Short Story Series: Story 5 – No Reservations

January 2018

It’s the end of January already and Short Story time!  How is everybody feeling in the first 30 days of the new year?  If you made any resolutions, have you given up already?  If you follow me on Social Media, you know that I’ve been posting a new resolution each day for this month.  So far, I’m doing pretty good with them.  I think it’s because I see resolutions as more goal-oriented.  Small, achievable steps or intentions, to get me where I want to go in the big picture.

Website Update

Speaking of big picture, if you are familiar with my website, you’ll notice the setup has changed.  It wasn’t intentional.  I loved my previous theme, but for whatever reason, the WordPress Gods decided to change it in an update and it screwed everything up.  So for now, there is a temporary, simple theme in place.  I’m hoping to have a new and improved one functional by February’s post.

Story Background

Since February is nearly upon us and it is known for its special holiday, Valentine’s Day, I decided to give you guys a little romantic treat!  I don’t write romance in the sense that it is my sole genre, but I do love me some naughty bits thrown in to every story I write.  This one is a scene out of a concept I am developing into a novel, once my WIP Conjoined is complete.  It’s entitled No Reservations, and is the scene where my two Main Characters meet…in a shall we say…unique way?  Enjoy!

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No Reservations

The crowd cheered as the acoustic chords of the band’s most favored song rang out. The collective energy was palpable by the time the lead singer sang his first words. Hundreds of LED lights sprang up around the room. Back in the day, it used to be lighters raised in celebration whenever a band’s beloved ballad played. Nowadays, everyone had an electronic gadget on them that could do the same thing in a much safer way.

Rose closed her eyes and took a long pull off her drink, a gin and tonic, light on the tonic, and swayed to the beat. She was familiar with the song, but this band was not her genre of music. Her youngest sister, Lily, was responsible for her witness tonight. She raised her arms, cup in hand, and slowly twisted her hips forward and backward reminiscent of her mother’s hippy generation. Rose had always favored the music and style of that freer time, and she was excited that flared denim and Boho Chic were popular again.

Tonight, she celebrated that style with a backless linen halter-top that exposed her petite waist and strong back. While her snug fitted, well-loved denim jeans showed off her other assets. Rose was not particularly short, the tallest of her sisters at 5′ 7″, but she still loved a good pair of heels, which she often wore, even when she probably shouldn’t. Concerts were one of those occasions that required Jimmy Choos in a strappy stiletto. She had decided to wear her shoulder-length hair in a messy upswept style because the humidity in August was brutal in this part of the country along the riverfront.

A slight breeze was blowing through the crowd, off of the water. A particular gust had just rushed by catching a few loose tendrils around the base of her skull, skittering shivers down her spine. The sensation caused her nipples to tighten and rub erotically against the coarse texture of the linen. She pursed her lips but smirked as she abandoned any sense of modesty and let herself be swept up in the scratchy baritone voice of the singer.

“There you are,” grumbled a deep voice in her right ear. The warmth of unexpected breath against her skin sent more shivers down her spine. Strong arms wrapped around her and a warm firm kiss was planted in that spot on her neck – the one where your shoulder meets – the one place that drove her absolutely mad with desire.

She tensed, for she was not here with a man. Although her sister did encourage her to come along for the ‘amazingly hot guys’ and a chance to get her world ‘rocked’, she had resigned herself that she would remain single for the rest of her miserable existence. Deciding right then that she would enjoy the closeness of a strong male figure until the end of the song, she went with it, for his actions seemed to mimic the words being crooned. Once the melody was complete, she would tell her accidental admirer that he had the wrong person. After all, from behind, she could be half of the women there. There was nothing about her in particular that set her apart, especially from behind.

Her mysterious partner began swaying with her while whispering the lyrics along with the singer in her ear as if each word were meant just for her. Abandoning her stoic façade, she let the moment take her where it would. She leaned into the taut body of her companion and answered his movements, turn by turn. It felt too good to let the closeness end when the song finally finished.

“I love that one,” the voice came. His arms tightened around her midsection and their bodies continued to sway even though the beat had changed to something much more tribal. Her conscience reminded her that she had something to say to this person, that perhaps she should not be allowing this contact to continue. What if this unassuming man’s real date came along and found him with her? How would either of them explain? It was only fair to this poor sod that she be honest and send him on his way. But then he moved just right, sliding his thick, muscled thigh between her legs and pressed himself into her backside.

The drumbeats weighed heavy in her chest, ramping up her desire and drowning any logical thought. For the third time, she let go of reason and concluded that there was no harm in dancing one more song like this. Was this really any different than finding a stranger on a dance floor at a club?

Then his hand slid under her top. You know, the one with no back? The one where you couldn’t possibly wear a bra with, without looking gaudy and foolish? Yes, that top. And just as the drummer had reached his stride in ramping up the tempo and the crowd, a calloused thumb grazed her nipple. She gasped in surprise and pleasure. Faced with one more decision to let this go on, she wrapped her arm up around his neck and pressed him closer, writhing to the staccato of the drums. Feeling encouraged by her reaction, the man’s other hand snaked between her legs and began to rub her in time with his other hand.

“I told you you’d have a good time tonight, didn’t I baby,” he mumbled, running his nose along the curve of her ear before nibbling just a little on the lobe.

She moaned, feeling so wanton and exposed, yet not giving a damn whoever stopped to watch. It had been years since she felt this sexy, this wanted by anyone, and she wasn’t about to let some misplaced guilt ruin a fleeting moment of pleasure.

His strokes matched the beat of each strike of the drum and before long she reached her peak. She gasped and rode out her high on his leg. Her mind blanked and all that she was aware of was their combined heat, the racing of her heartbeat, and his encouraging response.

Once the song was complete, he turned her around to kiss her and stepped away in horror. His handsome face paled and his large hand shot through his hair.

“I’m incredibly sorry. I thought…”

“You mistook me for your date. I know, and I should be the one apologizing. I don’t know what came over me. Perhaps it was the music, or the atmosphere, or even a little desperation on my part,” Rose rambled, stepping forward and reaching her hand out at an attempt at an apology.

He took her offering and pulled it to his lips. Just before they were to graze the back of her hand, he turned it over and placed a searing kiss on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m Cain Hawkings,” he supplied, a wry smile forming as a further introduction.

Rose shivered at the contact and stood there speechless for a second too long.

“This is where you reply with your name and reassure me that you are not going to call the police and have me arrested for assault.”

Rose snapped to attention and pulled her hand away. “Oh my god! No!” she gasped in horror, clutching her throat. “I mean, not that I make a habit of letting strange men get me off at concerts, but it really was my fault. I knew the moment you whispered in my ear that you had the wrong person, yet my desire for intimacy outweighed the logic of my brain and I needlessly let you continue.”

“Mr. Hawkings?” a sizable man dressed all in black wearing an earpiece like the secret service people wore, interrupted their awkward little bubble.

Cain’s head snapped to the attention of the approaching security guard. “What is it?” he barked, annoyed at the intrusion. The woman in front of him fascinated him. Not only was she a natural beauty, but her self-deprecating reasonings had him instantly intrigued.

“I’m sorry sir. But there is a situation that needs your immediate attention.”

Of course, there was. It seemed there was a never-ending stream of things or people that needed his immediate attention these days. Such was the life of a small town real estate tycoon and owner of the present establishment.

Cain turned to apologize to Rose, who smiled a little too brightly in return. “Go! It’s fine. It was very nice to, umm, have met you, Mr. Hawkings.”

“And you as well, Miss?”

“Rose Mc – urm… just Rose.”

“Right. A pleasure, just Rose,” he winked at the double-entendre and turned to walk away.

“Holy hell, Rose. I leave you alone for like 15 minutes and you’ve already snagged yourself the owner of the place?” a familiar voice came behind her. This time she turned to face the unseen person speaking to her. Of course, it was her little sister, back from her most convenient of trips to the bathroom and apparently the bar.

“You know him?”

“Know of him. Lust after him. Want to be him,” Lily giggled, holding her cup of bluish liquid out for a toast.

Rose brightened at this information. “Tell me everything you know. Perhaps in a place slightly less noisy?”

“Later! This is my jam!” Lily squealed, as a new song began to blare.

 

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Well?  Is it a little warm in here, or is it me?

Don’t forget to leave me a comment, which automatically enters you into the chance to win a $5 Amazon GC!  Winners chosen at random.

~ K.T.

No Reservations © K.T. George 2018 | This post was seen first on ktgeorge.com