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CHAPTER SEVEN
I wrapped my hair in a towel and decided to let the rest air dry. I laid across the bed, and reached for my vibrator. When I slid the switch to the right... nothing.
"Why a dead battery tonight?" I yelled at it, and pitched it across the room.
I startled when the phone rang. Sharona. I pushed ignore.
I wondered if he'd gotten my text.
I untwisted the towel from my head and began untangling the knots. My head was starting to ache from the alcohol, so I dug in the dresser for a bottle of Aleve. I ran out to the kitchen to get some water. I leaned against the fridge as my glass filled. I felt chilled, and shuffled back in the bedroom, grabbing up my pajamas and stumbling into them before crashing onto my comforter. I swallowed the Aleve with a couple gulps, and reached for the lamp.
When the phone rang again, I almost turned it off without looking, but I saw it wasn't Sharona this time. It was Chris.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She answered sweetly, "You got my message, huh?"
"Yeah. I got home without any further incident. I'm glad there's a door to the basement. Otherwise, I'd have to explain why I walked home with shrubbery in my hair." I was also glad to have my own shower down here. I really needed it tonight.
"If it wasn't for her, I would have let you stay. But that probably would have been a bad idea."
I couldn't disagree. "You're right, you shouldn't trust me. I'm a pothead who got kicked out of college, lives in his parents' basement, and breaks sundry laws for fun. "
She giggled. "So naughty!" She was an incorrigible tease. "And cute too!"
"You're old enough to know better than to encourage someone like me. I shouldn't have smoked you up tonight." Or kissed her; I could still taste her- a hint of tobacco and the faint tang of lemons.
"You needed some excuse to kiss me. You showed a little self-control." She was right about that one.
"I'm hardly a gentleman, though. But I can try to be one tomorrow night." And I would, even if she kept torturing me. "What time do you want me to pick you up? But don't make it too late- we're recording a demo tomorrow night."
"How about a late lunch instead? But I want to come.... hear you play again." Was I imagining the pause?
"We could use an audience, but you might be too much of a distraction."
"OK we can pick up Sharona from work too."
"You don't have to be hostile!" I half-joked.
"Why do I think you'd like it that way?" she was definitely flirting with me "Or are you just a lion on the stage, and a kitten in bed?"
"Keep that up, and you'll find out a lot sooner." The ache in my groin had returned. Damn her, when I was trying to use some manners for once.
CHAPTER NINE
I could hear the strain in his voice. Maybe I was still stoned. I was sure still horny. I was fighting the temptation to invite him back over. "OK, I call a ceasefire. At least until tomorrow afternoon."
"As you wish. I'll be over around 3, if that's OK."
"Yeah. So is this a fancy place?"
"Naw, just my other hangout."
We were both quiet a few beats, unsure what else to say.
"Well, it's getting late..." we said simultaneously. 'Bizarre,' I thought.
"That was freaky," he said, laughing.
"Very. But I need sleep if I'm going be pleasant company tomorrow."
"Of course. See you around three. Sweet dreams."
I thought they certainly would be, as I drifted off.
CHAPTER TEN
Insistent knocking interrupted my reverie. "Chris, I need you to cut the grass." My mom knocked louder. "You getting up?"
"Yeah! Just give me a minute!"
When I came back in, smelling of exhaust and slaughtered grasshoppers, I checked my phone. Marley had called; I listened to his voicemail message.
"Hey, man, I was wondering if you could watch Amber a little bit this afternoon. Call me."
I did, hoping it wasn't anything major. No way I'd break a date. "I'll ask Erin to watch her for you. I've got a lunch date with Maggie."
"Well, good for you! I guess she didn't mind the surprise visit. That was wild, man!" he was laughing.
"Her friend wasn't so welcoming. Especially after she walked in on us."
"Oh, sabotage! Hope you were prepared."
"We didn't get that far. Don't confuse me with Devin. I prefer my women conscious and willing."
"She wasn't?"
"Oh, I'm sure she would have been, but the mood got ruined when her friend effectively evicted me. She sent me text as I was walking home. So I called her back, told her if she let me take her to lunch I'd behave myself. At least till I bring her over here to chill before you assholes show up."
"Be careful, bro. That's how they get you."
"Ever the optimist. I'll drop Erin off then you can go duke it out with Nekana again. That's what you're doing, right? Or is she taking you back again cuz she's a lonely bitch?"
"One or the other. Either way, it's bound to be expensive."
"We get this demo finished and sent to that guy, I don't think any of us will have to worry about shit like that."
"Hey don't jinx it, man."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
My doorbell rang. I glanced at the clock. It was only two. 'it better not be him!' I grumbled as I opened the door. Sharona stood there. She'd brought donuts. A peace offering.
"I'm sorry about being such a bitch last night. I'm just PMSing, and I thought I'd come over so we could ruin our diets together."
She brought them into the kitchen, where I was hunting my keys. I held up with relief. "There they are. I always forget where I put them when I'm drunk." I straightened up the counter, and shoved the bills in my desk drawer.
"You goin' somewhere? Or is this your semi-annual cleaning streak?"
"I clean every other weekend! And yes I am. He's taking me to dinner." I turned around "You say one word, that's gonna be a bloody donut!"
"Easy, I said I'm sorry. Besides, what could happen at lunch?"
"I invited myself over to hear them play tonight too." I saw her roll her eyes "Oh yes I did! But don't worry, he'll be busy, and the band will be there. They'll be recording a demo."
"And when they're done, they'll probably go home. Then what?"
"I can't wait to find out!" and quickly added "But he said he'd try to be a gentleman."
"Ain't just him I'm worried about. Promise me you won't drink at lunch."
"He doesn't drink, so neither will I. I can enjoy myself without being drunk. Now get out of here; I still need to shower before he shows up."
She gave me a hug, "Be safe, girl. A bad boy may seem sexy now, but you know what can happen."
I sure did, but as I headed for the shower, I pushed the thought from my mind.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I was hoping to catch her early, and I pulled in her driveway at ten till. I stashed my one-hitter in the ashtray and went to her door. I pressed the doorbell repeatedly.
"You're obnoxious!" she answered, from behind the door.
"And you're half naked."
I sat down on the couch, watching her walk back to her bedroom. I could see her panties just below the hem of her shirt. I didn't know if I could resist her now, never mind making it through lunch.
"I thought you declared a cease-fire last night?"
"Hate to disappoint you," she said, from in her bedroom, "but you're the one who showed up early. I expected you to be late."
"A gentleman never arrives late. If I have to behave like a gentleman you should act like a lady."
She came out, wearing some barely-there shorts. "Would a lady do this?" she said, and straddled me.
"Certainly not." I shifted, but the rubbing made me more uncomfortable. "Please get off." Way to go, Freud, I thought to myself.
"Think you can make me?" she whispered before nibbling my ear. I could rise to that challenge, but I fought the urge.
"You're not playing nice, Maggie" I mumbled into her neck, smelling the flowery shampoo in her hair.
I sighed and kissed her, and her moan threatened to trigger my animal reflexes. I pulled back. When she tried to kiss me, I shook my head. "No more. I don't want to start it out like this. You're making it very hard... for me. I want you to meet my non-cocky side."
She stifled a smile, but climbed off my lap. "Only if I get to meet both tonight" she said, pulling me off the couch and towards the door.
Ouch, she really needs to learn some patience. For her own sake, too.
Locking the door, she said "At least you didn't pick me up in the van."
"Wouldn't want you to misinterpret my intentions," I said holding her door open.
"Thank you, sir." tacitly agreeing to another cease-fire.
Not that I wasn't smoldering inside, so I sang along to the radio on the way to release my nervous energy. An ad came on, and I flipped stations.
"You have a beautiful voice."
I glanced at her. "Thanks. You have a beautiful smile. Among other things." That earned me a laugh.
"Are all good musicians blind?"
"Only to our own faults" I said as I pulled in to the lot.
"Then I must be blind too, because you are fucking adorable."
"Interesting choice of adjective." I intoned, holding the door for her.
She paused beside me for a moment, "Excuse me, I'll try to be a lady. " I barely heard her as she added, "But it'll be hard."
Sure as hell would be. As I pulled the door open for her, I warned her, "I need to behave here, this is my dad's place."
"Classy digs, I feel overdressed." she laughed when I glared at her. "I'm kidding. I love Willie Nelson." she leaned in to add, "But don't tell anyone I'm a redneck. It's a secret.."
"Consider it forgotten. You want a drink?"
"No, thanks. Water would be a lady's choice." She answered with a grin.
"Dad, this is Maggie."
He turned around, drying a glass. He smiled and held his hand out, "Pleased to meet you, Maggie. I hope my son hasn't been stalking you. He told me about installing your fridge yesterday."
"She showed up at the bar last night, I wasn't stalking her."
"I thought that's why the police showed up last night, that or something about you being on campus, and that you were delivering something there. I didn't know Home Depot was still open at that time." The way he said it told me he knew it wasn't that kind of delivery.
"Sorry about that, The bar was just too close to the college for their liking."
"You could lose your license if you get caught. You know not all the judges are sympathetic."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Does he mean your driver's license?" I asked, wondering if I should have let him pick me up.
"No, my license to carry."
"A gun?" I hoped he wasn't the type.
"This." he said, opening his case on the table.
He pulled a card out of the top, and showed it to me. It was laminated, and had a photo like a driver's license. But it read 'Medical Cannabis Patient License. State of California.' It was signed by him, and some doctor.
"I heard about Proposition 420, but I didn't know they passed out cards. How do you get one?"
"It's allegedly for security, although the government can access the records. But I got a prescription from my shrink."
"For what? Doesn't it make you crazier?"
"The good kind though. Antidepressants made me psychotic. This relaxes me. Enough to sleep without nightmares."
I wondered if that explained his strange behavior. "About what?" I was curious, but it made him uncomfortable.
"I'll tell you someday, just not tonight. It's not polite dinner conversation."
Well, that settled it. Neither of us said much. I'd ordered the BBQ ribs, and I thought they were the best ones I'd had in years. "since I visited New Orleans for Spring break" I told him, licking the sauce off the bone. I was hoping he'd notice.
"They must be, or you're just trying to tease me." he answered, so I knew I hadn't ruined the mood.
"Sorry. I swear I wasn't doing that on purpose." Or maybe I was.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I watched her suck sauce off her fingers, then grabbed her other hand, and sucked on her thumb. Then I licked her fingertips. "Thought you could use a hand."
"You are so punny! Get it? Punny." she laughed.
I slid around the bench, put my arm around her, and whispered, "Keep laughing, and I'll find a way to shut you up."
"Tee hee hee. Oops. Me sorry for laughing at you." she giggled.
"I told you sarcasm is a big turn on for me. Keep it up and I'm taking you home."
"Then take me." she whispered back, and though I wanted to, I wasn't about to do anything here.
"Do you have to make double entendres? You were supposed to behave."
"Nonsense. You're just a pervert." she was staring me down.
"You've been flirting with me since yesterday afternoon. A man can only take so much torture."
"I can make it worth your current discomfort."
I didn't doubt it but I decided to play it right back to her. "So can I. Let's go," I said, adjusting myself as she stood up.
"I hope we have time to stop at my place first."
"They won't be over till around six." I saw it was only four. "Gee, what could we do for two hours?"
"You could fuck me."
Jesus, did she have to be so direct? "If you promise not to hate me tomorrow."
"If you're that bad, then never mind. You seemed to know what you were doing with my lips."
"I know what to do with the other set too." She tasted so damn good, and I wanted to taste more of her.
When we got through the door, she was ready to strip me down, but I pushed her down onto the couch. She kissed me as I pulled her shorts down. I started rubbing her mound through her panties. She was already wet and the smell made me want to yank my own pants off and... instead I knelt on the floor and pushed her thighs apart. She started moaning as I kissed up to her pantyline. As I pulled them down, I said, "You need this more than I do." She leaned back, and I nuzzled my face in her curls. I darted my tongue in between her lips. She tasted salty and sweet. She began to rock her hips and moaned. I flicked my tongue over her clit, pushing on it, and circling it till I could feel it throbbing.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Oh, god, Chris!" I called out from the unexpected orgasm.
He looked up, and licked his lips. He slid my panties up, than sat beside me. I kissed him gratefully. I could taste myself on his lips.
"If you're that amazing with your tongue, what else can you do?" I asked, stroking his crotch.
"You really want to know?" he kissed me again.
"Yes. Right now," I said, fishing under the cushion for a condom. "How convenient!" I said.
He looked at it, and handed it back. "Not really. I'm allergic to latex."
"Then let's go back to the cave, Batman. Or will someone be home?"
"The basement is entirely sound proof."
"Good." I said as we walked back out to his car.
He insisted I put on my seatbelt even though we weren't going far. He whipped into a cul-de-sac, and hit a button on the visor. The door was barely up before he pulled into the garage. I follow him down to the basement, closing the door behind me. It was covered in foam, as was the stairwell. The floor was covered in cables, snaking to huge amps,
"I should probably get things ready. I had to drop off my sister to watch Amber."
"Who's Amber?" if he already had a kid, that would explain his reluctance.
"Marley's daughter. She's four." he was moving things around, and plugging things in. I had no clue what most of it was. But it all looked expensive. How could he afford all these electronics with the job he had?
"So he's married? Sharona's going to be disappointed."
"He and her mom are separated, but he had to go meet with her this afternoon. I know he'd like to make it work between them, but frankly, she's a ho and he's better off raising her himself. He's done well so far."
"That's a rarity. Most of the time the mother gets custody. My coworker Linda is single mom, and she's always taking sick days when her kids get sick. I don't know how she does it. I barely make enough to pay my own expenses."
"So quit being a wage slave, and go find a rich man to marry." He was typing something unreadable into a computer. The monitor flickered, and what looked like a mixing board popped up.
"No chance, I'd rather marry for love, as lame as it sounds."
"Romance isn't lame, it's what makes a marriage last. My dad still takes my mom out on dates, and they've been together twenty two years this June. Sometimes they hold square dances at his bar. They both get crazy drunk on cheap beer, and my sister avoids coming home those nights."
"She still lives here?"
"Mostly on weekends. She goes to the community college part time, and dances a few nights a week. Devin keeps going there and bugging her but they don't kick him out. He's there so much he pays their bills. He's a one-man STD epidemic. He'll either join the 27 club, or die sooner like Amy Winehouse."
"That's a pretty cynical opinion of your friend. Is he really that bad?"
"He is, and he's my half brother. His dad left my mom, didn't want anything to do with her then. He's some low-level politician in Sacramento." He said all that without a hint of malice, while clicking the mouse a few times.
"I would have blackmailed him."
"Well he was only a month old when mom and dad met. He accepted us both without objection, and they got married the month I was born. They were younger than I am now. All their friends who got married as young as they did have gotten divorced, so I feel pretty lucky." He took a guitar from the stand next to him, and began tuning it.
"Yeah, since happy marriages are the exception today I'm glad my parents are still together. My dad's not romantic though. They're just Catholic."
He stopped plucking the strings, and spun the chair around. "Did they send you to Saint-holy-someone for school? Just curious."
I bet he was. "No, I went to public school so don't go imagining me in one of those stupid uniforms."
"Furthest thing from my mind." he said, resuming his plucking and knob twisting. One of the strings snapped. "Dammit. Now I need a new G string." As he reached in a desk drawer, he added "On my guitar, so kindly refrain from commenting."
I laughed anyways, and he handed me one end of a string "Hold this end," untangling it, added "I want to play a Korn riff."
"Like to play loose, huh?"
"I prefer mine nice and tight." He wound up the excess string with a complete poker face. "But if I wind them up too much, they tend to break." His finger was twirling the handle of peg winder, and he grinned at me. I can play just as dirty as you, honey- so don't start what you don't want me to finish."
It would be a battle of wills- and I was hoping my lack of any would win out.
He tossed the peg winder in the drawer and kicked it closed. He resumed plucking the string, twisting the pegs slowly. Satisfied, he put that guitar back on the rack and picked up the one next to it. It had eight strings instead of the six the other had. By my calculations, he'd need both hands to hit the chords. What would he strum it with?
"So you've got a whole studio down here? This must have cost a fortune to set up."
"It's pretty basic- just what I could throw together from pawn shops and software pirating. You should see my CD collection. Takes up a whole wall of my bedroom."
I stepped inside his room, and saw almost as much equipment. There were speakers mounted above the headboard. The wires passed behind a veritable art show of psychedelic posters. The closet and floor were a mess, but the bookcase beside it was neat. I turned around, and saw the rack of hundreds of CDs. These he had grouped by genre, then alphabetized.
Cranberries, Fiona Apple, Melissa Etheridge. "You listen to chick music." Well, there was Black Sabbath, Korn and White Zombie too.
"I'm a closet fag." he shouted from the other room.
"I don't think I believe you," I said, coming back to the door.
"I hide it well." he was wrapping up a length of cable, and smiling at me.
"You do a lot quite well."
"Thanks," he mumbled, kissing me lightly. He leaned in and flipped the switches by the door. The bright white light was replaced with a black light fading on. The posters all glowed. "Look up." There were glow-in-the-dark constellations on his ceiling.
"Awesome. You going to give me a personal tour of the bed now?"
"You are being very bad" he growled "but you have to be patient. They'll be here soon, and I don't want to rush things. If you want to stay after we finish recording, and you're not passed out by then..."
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