We Shouldn't and Yet... Read online

  I put a small pillow under my head and settle myself on the couch. Aideen’s words replay in my head, beating the tempo for my headache. The girl is opinionated and while it’s maddening and usually I’d have told her to fuck off in no uncertain terms, this time around I find it both puzzling and captivating. There’s just something, something in the way she speaks, the way she sees me for who I am, instead of just a bachelor who’s not fit to be a father, that catches my attention. And it shouldn’t.

  Hal is fucking infatuated with her. I can’t forget that.

  But she’s gorgeous and my dick stands at attention whenever she’s around.

  “Still alive?’’

  I start and shoot upright suddenly. The room spins and I clamp my teeth closed to prevent nausea. I groan and bring a hand to my sweaty forehead. My vision clears up and the first thing I see is Aideen’s extended hand, palm open, with a couple of pills. I let my eyes wander up her bare arm and up to her face. There’s a small smile, stretching her lips upward. I can’t look away from her soft looking lips and their rosy color, so delicate and appetizing.

  “Jensen?’’

  I shake my head and frown. “Shit.’’ I close my eyes for a second.

  “Take these and drink the water.’’

  She gives me the pills and the tall glass full of water. I swallow the Advil and force the water down my throat, past the nausea and my dark need for more alcohol. As soon as the glass is empty she takes it from me and turns around for the kitchen, dismissing me without another word. And I watch her walk away, giving myself that little reprieve. After all, nobody has access to my thoughts and that’s good because even with this headache from hell I’m thinking of taking her on any and all surfaces available here. And fuck if it doesn’t sound good.

  “Thank you.’’ The words are difficult to leave my mouth, but I can’t keep on being a jerk to her. She’s a nice girl and if she’s going to be with Hal…I need to make an effort and be an adult. And mostly, I need to stop the onslaught of carnal thoughts with her featured as the headliner. “I’m sorry you had to, you know.’’ I wave at myself and slouch further into the couch.

  She comes back and leans against the wall, her slender arms crossed over her chest. “Don’t mention it. I know that we all cope differently.’’

  I flick my tongue over my dry lips and chuckle without humor. “It’s not coping, it’s called being a coward.’’

  “You keep giving me openings to question you, you know.’’

  I let my eyes brush over her body. The flare of her hips is, in itself, enough to make me want to worship that tiny scrap of bare skin. But her breasts, a handful, behind her crossed arms aren’t far from my mind either. It makes it all the more difficult to focus. I need some space or else I’m going to make the wrong move and I won’t be able to hide behind the fact I’m drunk because now I’m just hungover, not drunk. Mostly.

  “You too. Does that mean you want to talk about what happened to you?’’

  From here I can see her stiffen. Her hasty answer isn’t a surprise.

  “No. There’s nothing to tell.’’

  I nod and cock my head to one side, supporting it against the back of the couch. “You have your answer then.’’

  “You’re very different from the man I pictured you to be.’’

  I smirk at her, amused. What, so she didn’t think I’d be a fucker with a drinking problem who is obviously very much into casual sex and reckless driving on a classic bike? I arch an eyebrow at her and run a hand along my square jaw. “I hope you find me sexier.’’

  ***

  AIDEEN

  I gape at him. Mouth inelegantly open, eyes round like saucers. And as if it wasn’t enough, heat is fast invading my face, probably coloring me a harsh shade of red. I bring both hands to my cheeks and at this point I can’t exactly play it cool or composed.

  “Hm… I mean…’’ I stutter lamely and clear my throat. “You look… Hm…’’

  “I’m pulling your leg.’’

  I giggle nervously and it sounds pretty hysterical. Damn it, kill me now. Please. “I better, uh, go to my room.’’ I gesture to the staircase and force a smile on my still hot face.

  “Aideen, calm down. I’m just…’’ He groans and mutters something under his breath as he looks away. “I guess acting like a dick around you is second nature.’’

  I deflate and the heat in my face is slowly receding. I’m an idiot for reacting so extremely to his teasing. Yes, I do find him sexy and hot and I wasn’t expecting it when I walked in his house for the first time yesterday, but it’s nothing any other woman would say. Why do I need to react like this? I know I’ve been like a hermit for the past year, but I still have eyes. I didn’t go blind after Yann, but it’s the first time that I… I don’t know, feel a stirring inside me? It sounds ridiculous when put it like that, but it’s pretty much what it feels like.

  “I shouldn’t have been all flustered. It’s ridiculous.’’

  “We need to adjust,’’ he rasps and discreetly adjusts himself. I can’t keep my eyes above belt level and my stomach twists. “I’m not used to living with people and even less with a woman. I’m not sure I’ve fully processed the idea of having a son.’’

  I walk to the couch and slowly sit, as far away from him as I can. “I’m not staying for much longer. I have more visits lined up tomorrow. I don’t want you to feel uneasy in your own home.’’

  He shakes his head and his fists clench on his lap. His big calloused hands look threatening and yet, another thrill courses through me.

  “I’m uneasy everywhere. You being in my house doesn’t change that, but at least it distracts me from my usual mess.’’ He turns to me, his head against the back of the couch again. “And stop telling me you’re not staying. I get your need for independence, but you don’t have to rush anything.’’

  I lose myself in his brown soulful eyes, in the curve of his unsmiling lips, in the angle of his jaw and the width of his shoulders. This man is truly confounding. It can be easy to peg him as only a troubled man, but there’s more to him. After all, there’s more to anybody than what meets the eyes.

  I lean closer to him, just a tiny bit, and I sigh. Tension deserts me and I let my head fall against the back of the couch, my hair a little wild around me. I breathe in Jensen’s cologne mixed with the alcohol he drank earlier today and that little something that’s all male and dark. “Who are you really?’’ I whisper.

  His pink tongue traces his lips again, quickly and I don’t miss even a nano second of it. “Don’t look at me like that.’’

  I glance back up and his eyes are even darker now. Intense. “Like what?’’

  “Fuck. Don’t play that game.’’

  I’m about to tell him I’m not playing when his face gets close to mine, so very close that I can count his thick lashes. And I can’t talk. I’m mute. I drop my gaze to his parted lips and I bite on mine, my teeth only adding to the mess inside me, enhancing things I don’t want to face, things I shouldn’t be feeling and even less while looking at this older man, the father of my best friend.

  Then, his hooded eyelids close and I jump back, as if electrocuted back into action. I gasp and he leans back, away from me, almost as if he’s trying to mold himself with the couch itself. We stare at each other and I can’t take it any more. I jump to my feet and hightail it to my room, ignoring him when he calls my name in his raspy voice, huskier than usual. But it’s harder to ignore the fast rhythm of my heart in my chest and the shivers running through my body.

  ***

  JENSEN

  “Fuck me.’’

  I punch the pillow next to my hip and bite back the growl forming deep in my chest. I need to hit something harder that offers more resistance if I want to get this out. This…This fucking lust for the very wrong person. A person I made run out of here with my not so smooth move. She must think I’m a sick bastard, hitting on a young woman like that. She’s sixteen years younger than me for Pete’
s sake.

  I push on my legs and stand up, swaying a second or two until the room stops swirling and making me want to hurl all over again. I run a hand on my face, still sweaty, and I take a few steps toward the kitchen, ready to grab the cheap tequila in one of the cupboards and drink enough to push me into a deep sleep that would be akin to a coma. I just need to fucking stop feeling, thinking and I must put an end to this hard-on that never goes away.

  My fingers grip the bottle neck, the cold glass raising goosebumps on my almost feverish skin, and I straighten up with my prize in hand, heavily leaning on the counter in the small kitchen. It shouldn’t take much to take me out.

  I glance at the clock. Hal shouldn’t take long to get his ass back home. I need to hurry and hole up in my room. I don’t want him to ever see my messy self like that, and I don’t want to lie to his face to the reason why I’m actually planning on using alcohol to fall asleep. For once, I’m not seeking oblivion because of my usual shit. No, this time around I’ve upgraded; I’m trying to forget how much I want to fuck Hal’s best friend. I scoff at myself and slowly walk to the stairs, psyching myself to climb the mean stairs and fall face first on my bed.

  Carefully, I take one step at a time and once I’m on the upper level, I take a healthy sip of tequila straight from the bottle. It’s my way of congratulating myself for not falling down and making a bigger spectacle of myself for Aideen’s entertainment.

  The liquid burns down my throat and I almost moan at the warmth already softening my edges. I let my bad shoulder support my weight against the wall and I barely feel the sting of pain. My buzz is already coming back with a vengeance and the pain seems like a distant thing, just out of reach but still there nonetheless beyond the alcohol fog. Now, if only my cock would take the hint and actually back the fuck down.

  I take another sip and my eyes land on Aideen’s closed door. I can’t hear a thing coming from her room, but I’m picturing her on her bed. Her hair all over her pillow, her eyes bright and drawing me in even more, her body naked under the sheets…

  Without meaning to, I take a step toward the door, and another. And one last one to finally knock loudly on the thin wooden-panel. At this point, I’m not thinking beyond what’s going on in my pants and my drive is the horrified look Aideen gave me just before she fled.

  “Open the fucking door, Aideen.’’ I knock again, louder this time.

  “Just go away.’’ Her tiny voice tugs at my balls. “Please.’’

  I put my forehead on the door, the tequila still in my hand hanging down against my my thigh. It’s a wonder nothing’s spilled over yet. “I didn’t want to scare you.’’

  From her side there’s a soft bump like she puts her head against the door too. “You didn’t.’’

  I pull away, just far enough to bring the bottle to my lips and drink some more. Now, I don’t even feel the burn of the liquor. I’m already hot all over. “The fuck you didn’t. I saw your face, Aideen. I’m a grown man, I can take it.’’ I sigh and recap the bottle. “But I don’t want you to be afraid ‘round here.’’

  “I’m not afraid. Stop it.’’

  “Stop what? Worrying because I’m losing my fucking mind around you? Blow a gasket because you actually ran away without giving me a chance to explain?’’

  She yanks the door open and my heart misses a beat when I see the look on her face. It’s not fear, not anger. It’s confusion. I straighten up and ignore how ill-balanced I am with the alcohol in my blood wreaking havoc on my tight leashed control.

  She pushes away some flyaway strands of her pretty hair and briefly glances at the bottle still in my hand. The distaste doesn’t sit well with me, but I don’t comment. As long as she doesn’t either, I’m good.

  “Can’t you get a hint? I don’t want to talk about this!’’ She’s breathing hard and fast. Her chest rises and falls, her breasts stretching the light fabric of her top, catching my attention and that’s when I see her nipples pushing through her bra.

  I wet my lips when my dick gets harder still. “Yeah? Too bad, because I want to.’’ I run a hand on my unshaved cheek and then tug on the neck of my shirt, trying to find some air, something to quench the fire burning me up.

  I take a step toward her, crowding her. I don’t know if it’s my fogged up mind or my dick doing the thinking, but I’d swear she stopped breathing for a second. I breathe in her sweet perfume, something feminine and fresh, just like her. I let my eyes caress her face, stopping longer on her soft full lips before I finally try to push back the walls in her eyes.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. You’re drunk and I’m not.’’

  “Then, why are you running in the other direction if there’s nothing to talk about?’’ My voice gets lower, raspier as everything inside me is coiling up, ready to strike if I glimpse an opening. Because I know we shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t, yet she’s there, gorgeous, hot and I’m craving a taste of her. Nothing else counts. It should, but I’m a fuck up and fuck ups don’t care about anything other than their base needs. I’ve never had to care about anything else before but to satisfy my damn needs.

  I get closer to her and she’s still not stepping back. She’s standing toe to toe with me. She tilts her head upward to look me in the eye.

  “Talking about this, you, is going to get embarrassing for the both of us. You’ll thank me once you’re sober. Believe me.’’

  “Right this second, Aideen, I’m very much cursing you.’’

  Gingerly, she takes the bottle from my limp fingers and brings it behind her back. And takes a couple of steps back. That’s why she didn’t put distance between us, then.

  “Maybe.’’ She eyes me from head to toe, her eyes bright and intense, but I can’t read her. This woman is a complete mystery and it’s maddening. “Go sleep it off.’’

  I don’t say anything else. I’m already the fool in the story. I turn around and open the first door in the hall; my room. I close the door behind me with more force than necessary, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m frustrated, my dick is still hard and the woman responsible for this denied me even a simple kiss. If she only knew that being drunk only made me bolder and more reckless, she’d realize that my craving for one of her kisses had nothing to do with liquid insanity.

  But I need to remember that she’s sixteen years younger than me, and Hal wants her for more than friendship. He wants in her pants probably as much as I want in hers. But contrary to me, his heart is in the game too when it’s obvious that for me, it’s all my cock’s doing.

  ***

  AIDEEN

  In my room with the tequila bottle in my hand, I sit on my bed. It caves slightly under me, but I don’t pay attention to my cell falling to the floor or the local newspaper I’m sitting on, the paper crinkling under my ass.

  I’m shaking, now letting go of my tight control. The tequila swishes in the bottle, my knees quiver now that I’m off my feet. And my heart is beating harder, but so very slowly, as if emphasizing all the beats, carving them in my ribcage. But my blood is boiling vividly in my veins, getting me hotter by the second.

  Yann used to get me hot and bothered when we started dating, but it’s been a long time ago and I was so young back then. Even then, I don’t remember feeling so alive and in tune with him. There is something so sexual, so carnal, so intense in the way Jensen looks at me. I know he’s drunk and alcohol for him must shed the very few inhibitions he has, but I’ve never met a man like him.

  My core is still clenching, begging for something, for a man, for attention. My underwear is slick, wet. So very much I’m flustered just thinking about it. My stomach is tied into knots. And my skin is hyper-sensitive, ready for any touch from that man across the hall. Even my breasts are heavy and sensitive.

  It’s been so long since I’ve wanted sex so much. And for once, guilt isn’t helping me cool off. If anything, it makes me want to get off more because of these few minutes with Jensen, I didn’t think about anything or anybody else, but
him and me.

  My blood pulses through my veins, drawing out the hot lust weakening me. I take a deep breath and I still smell him, Jensen.

  I look around my small room, but there’s no one. Yet, Jensen is in the house, just a few feet from where I am. God, what am I doing?

  I stand up and undress, biting my lower lip while my fingers get steadier and my clothes leave my burning body. Naked and standing in the room, I let my hands caress my hips, my flat stomach and up my ribcage on each side. I trace my ribs, my beauty marks, and then, I put my hands on my heavy breasts, weighing them, massaging them softly. But it’s not enough. The shivers running down my spine aren’t strong enough. It’s nothing like what I felt in the hall minutes ago.

  And I’m dying to feel that again. Just once.

  I pinch my nipples between my fingers, hesitantly at first, but with more assurance when sensations zip through my body from my flesh to the deepest parts of me, making my core clench more desperately.

  My breathing staggers and a moan almost escapes me. But I can’t make a sound. He can’t hear me, and that thought alone sends another wave of pleasure through me. I back up to the bed and lie down, the fabric of the bedsheets brushes my sensitive skin in a delicious way. Closing my eyes, I can picture his hands on me, rough and calloused and very exploratory. And I follow the lead of my fantasy.

  My right hand goes from my breast to my stomach, slowly, exploring my skin along the way to stop just above my wet slit. I open my legs, and close my eyes more tightly, afraid to let go of the pictures I’m conjuring up. I don’t want to feel insane, exposed, and most of all, I don’t want to consider my actions and wonder why and what I’m doing. For once, I’m just feeling. And it’s really good for now.