Frayed Silk(23)

“Time to hang out, friend.” He grabs my hand and leads me through the paint-chipped doors to the stale smelling interior. It’s dead quiet with no one around besides an old man behind the ticket booth who looks to be reading a weathered mystery novel as we approach him. “Hi,” I say as Jared scans the choices above on the worn-out board. The man holds up a knobby pointer finger, a silent request for us to wait a minute. I glance at Jared who bites his lip and widens his amused eyes at me.

“Sorry,” he finally mutters, putting the book down. “What can I get you?” He sounds tired but nice enough. Jared asks for two tickets to a new action movie that’s just come out, some popcorn, and sodas. We wait as he gets them, Jared looking around at all the vintage memorabilia in the theatre.

“I love coming here,” he randomly says.

I turn to face him. “Why’s that?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t have the best of times as a kid growing up on the streets, but me and my brother, we’d always sneak in here and hide out behind the seats. Some nights, we even slept here.”

Well, shit. I knew he was from a rough part of the city, but I’m starting to realize that there’s still so much I’ve yet to learn about him.

“Where were your parents?”

He smiles, but it’s not a nice one. “High, probably. We didn’t even have a house. They just carted us from place to place, to whichever of their smacked-out friends would take them in next.” He shakes his head. “Half the time, they didn’t even remember us. We had to find them until one day, we just stopped trying.”

“How old were you when you stopped trying to find them?”

“Twelve. We were thrown into the system soon after, and that was that.”

We grab our food and drink from the old man when he hollers at us, before returning to his perch and his book behind the counter. Once inside the musty old theatre, I sit down and tell myself to forget about it. Not to ask any more questions when it’ll likely only make things worse. But the burning curiosity gets the better of me.

“You have a brother?”

He nods, throwing a handful of popcorn inside his mouth and mumbling around it. “Yep.”

“Does he still live in the city?” Even in the dim lighting, I notice his eyes darkening. His chiseled, stubble coated jaw hardening a little.

“No. He’s in jail.”

I almost choke on my popcorn. “For what happened? With stealing cars?”

He nods again. “Enough about me. How’re things at home with …?”

I notice how he doesn’t say it. The word husband. But I answer anyway. “The same, I guess.” His eyes narrow on me and I turn to face the crackling screen as the movie begins. We watch in silence for a while then his arm is looping around my neck, and his hand is drawing soft circles on the bare skin of my arm. I should tell him to move it, to stop it, but I get lost in the feeling of being relaxed. His presence, despite not being the man I desperately want, is somehow soothing.

About halfway through the movie, I check the time on my phone, knowing I’ll have to leave soon to pick up the kids on time. “You want to stay? I’m going to have to go back to my car in a minute.” I shift in my seat to ask him.

He drags his eyes from the screen to me. “I’ll walk you.”

I give him a nod, grabbing my purse and drink as he rises from his seat. I follow him out of the aisle, and he waits, wrapping a hand around my waist before we start the walk down the steps of the abandoned theatre. Just as we near the bottom, I hear a moan come from the movie still playing above us. My eyes fly to the screen, seeing the male lead with a half-undressed woman as they make out heatedly. I swallow thickly, so aware of Jared’s looming presence and his touch as we round the corner that goose bumps rise on my arms and a wave of heat overtakes me.

He must sense it because he stops, pulling me into the alcove right behind the closed doors to the theatre. He grabs my drink, tossing it in the trash can behind him before he moves quicker than lightning for my lips. I gasp loudly as his tongue instantly invades my mouth and touches mine, the taste of him overwhelming me beyond reason. He picks me up; my legs wrap around his waist, and my dress gathers around my hips as his hand snakes its way inside my panties.

My head rolls back against the wall with a moan as his finger tests my wet entrance before sliding inside to his knuckle and twisting as his tongue and teeth travel over my chin and the underside of my jaw. My thighs quiver and my breathing picks up when he groans into my ear. “So fucking warm. You like that, Blondie?”

I whimper as he continues to fuck me with his finger, making my head spin faster and faster. Then he presses his thumb to my swollen clit. “Oh, my … yes,” I croak.

“Coming so soon? And I thought we were friends, babe.” He snickers then removes his hand, and I cry out from the loss. I was so close I could taste it. I growl, glaring at him. He just laughs, pecking my lips and dropping my shaky legs to the dingy carpeted floor.

Then my panties are gone, and he’s on his knees, lifting one of my legs over his shoulder and swiping his tongue over my folds as he parts me with it.

“Holy …” My eyes slam shut, and I bite my lip to stop from crying out again when his finger re-enters me while his tongue flicks softly over my clit.

“Come on my tongue, Blondie,” he demands.