The Best Man Read online

  I am getting ready; putting the finishing touches on my hair, trying to do something different with it. That never works. My hair is either in a structured ponytail or down cascading over my shoulders. I decide to put it somewhat up tonight with some tendrils hanging around my face. The red highlights really make my dark blue eyes pop. I have some make-up on as well. I really don't wear too much that often. When I do it’s usually just a little mascara, a nude eye shadow, blush and pink lip gloss—very natural. Chloe being my very own fashion consultant had purchased for me a make-up kit that contains everything I could need and then some. So, tonight I decide to put it to good use and use all of its contents: varying shades of eye shadow, blush, eye liner, everything. Chloe will be proud and amazed that I have actually taken the time to be a little more adventurous in my make-up choices. I mean, I’ve even got that smoky eye thing going and it looks really incredible. My eyes look so much more expressive, I just might have to use this kit a little more often than not. As I’m finishing getting ready, my phone alerts me that I have a new text. Shocker. I’m surprised she lasted this long. You and me both.

  You better be getting ready!

  Gosh she's so pushy. My fingers quickly reply.

  Yes I'm getting ready.

  U better b using that make-up I bought u.

  Yes, mom, I'm using the make-up.

  What r u going 2 wear? cause I know the perfect thing.

  I was going to wear that blue wrap dress you bought me.

  Good, that was going to be my suggestion. Finish up ;) c u in 15.

  For someone so small, Chloe can be very annoying. It must be that fiery red hair. But still I love her like she was my sister, Macy, too. Fifteen minutes later I hear a honk outside my apartment building. As I look out the window, I can see Chloe pointing to her watch.

  "I'm coming," I mouth to her; again with the being pushy. I grab my keys and head out the door. Usually we take a cab together, but not tonight. Macy is on the prowl, and Chloe is expecting a call later to meet up with Jason. So I follow them in my Convertible Mini Cooper. It’s a good thing too, I don’t want to drink too much and knowing I’m driving myself will deter indulging too much. Plus, I have work to do in the morning. Shocker.

  ***

  We arrive at the club. Chloe and Macy frequent this place regularly by themselves since I’m really not one for dancing.

  Or for going out.

  Thanks for the reminder.

  Just keeping it real.

  But these are my girls, and I would do anything for them, even if it meant embarrassing or injuring myself—two things I know they would never let happen. As we approach, the bouncer at the door just winks at Chloe, says "Ladies," and opens the door. There are a few hisses from the long line that has formed. My girls are regulars, VIPs almost, so it is no surprise to me that we are so quickly allowed in. Although the way the bouncer eyes Macy something tells me they know each other intimately, and he would allow her in the club anytime she wanted, VIP or not.

  The music is energetic, while the lights flicker and bounce around the dance floor. It’s actually pretty cool, I have to admit. We approach the bar, and Macy immediately catches the attention of the bartender. She catches the attention of every male within a five mile radius it seems. That’s just Macy, she’s absolutely beautiful, like Victoria Secrets’ model beautiful.

  "Two Cosmos and an extra dirty martini," she requests with a lick of her lips.

  Macy knows how to get what she wants and always gets it quickly; no one ever hesitates when a request comes from her. Upon getting our drinks, Macy pays the bartender not only with cash but also with a wink and sexy grin. She really knows how to play to her audience. She catches me shaking my head and mouths “What?” full well knowing what she’s done and does. She flashes me her mega-watt smile before bringing her drink to her mouth. Chloe seems obliviously to it all or maybe she’s so used to it, it’s become second nature. The two of them polish off their Cosmos and start to head towards the dance floor. I continue to sip my delicious martini hoping they forget that I promised I would dance. Fat chance.

  "You coming," asks Chloe.

  "I will; let me finish my drink and I will come and find you guys in a bit," I reply trying to get of dancing.

  "You better get your ass on that dance floor in five or I'm coming and dragging you out there, got it?" Chloe goes all militant on me.

  "Yes, Ma'am," I say with a salute; again with the pushy.

  As I stand at the bar swaying to the music, enjoying what is a very delicious extra dirty martini, I can't help but over hear the conversation that is going on next to me—we are packed like sardines at the bar.

  "No, I'm not from around here…just visiting," he answers.

  "Oh, too bad. I hope you can make it a long visit," she purrs.

  "It could be," he replies.

  "You have great hair," she purrs again as she reaches out and runs her fingers through his hair.

  "You should see it after…"

  "Oh please," I say as I turn to walk away from a conversation that is leading to something I don't really want to hear. As I walk away, I can swear I hear him say "What?". Seriously, was that conversation happening? Was that girl being that needy? And was he actually using that line on her about his hair? Obviously, she has no brain or is a little too intoxicated to know any better. Sure, he is good looking from what I saw, actually, extremely good looking. And I really can't blame her for wanting to touch his hair; in all honesty I probably would have, too. But really, "You should see it after…" please, I can only imagine how he was going to finish that line.

  I make my way to wait in line for the bathroom before going to find Macy and Chloe on the dance floor. What is it with there always being a line for the ladies' room and not the men's? It's really irritating. As I stand there waiting, I still can't stop thinking about the line that he was trying to use on that girl. I did hear her giggle before I walked away, but I really hope she didn't fall for it. He did have really nice hair, the kind of hair you could really grab a hold of when he’s between your legs bringing you to the brink of ecstasy with his talented tongue. Your fingers weave into his luxurious locks and hold on for dear life…Is it hot in here? Why am I going there? Oh, maybe because we only have intimacy with BoB for the last…I don’t know…Forever! I roll my eyes at my inner self. You know it’s true. It’s sad because it is true. My thoughts continue to wander, images of him flash in my head making me feel a little hotter and there’s definitely a growing ache between my legs. We so need to get some. Hush.

  "Hey it's your turn, you goin'?" the girl behind me in line asks pulling me back to reality. What the hell was that? I shake the image of "sexy hair guy" and make my way into the crowded bathroom.

  Finally, I am making my way for the dance floor when this random guy just plows into me and keeps walking with no "excuse me" or nothing. "What the hell?" I yell. Turning around I notice it is sexy hair guy—fucking figures. I quickly turn around shaking the images that are suddenly bombarding me at the moment. Images of him and I hot and sweaty and naked. Very, very naked. His tongue licks across my stomach…Oh, my God I need another drink.

  No, you need to get some.

  No I need to forget about “sexy hair guy” because if he used that line on her, he’s probably used that line on a bazillion other girls and probably has a permanent spot in line at the free clinic.

  Fine. Keep being like this. Eventually our vagina will dry and shrivel up and fall out. So it won’t matter if we get some now, will it?

  I ignore my inner self’s rambling. I don’t need people looking at me like I’m completely nuts.

  Truth hurts? And if you don’t do something soon, that will be our future. Oh, and add the cats too.

  Still ignoring.

  You can try.

  As I attempt to ignore my inner self, I spot Macy bumping and grinding on some rather large, athletically built guy. Think the Rock. Leave it to Macy to find him. Macy is nothing like Chl
oe. Where Chloe is all stunning and petite, Macy is ethereally beautiful—it’s like she’s a combination of all the best parts of Hollywood’s finest. She can have any guy she wants, and she usually does. Macy is never without a man, and tonight is no exception. As for me, that is a different story, but I don't mind. If that were to change, it would be okay, but I am not actively seeking my next conquest—that I will leave to Macy. I am really busy at the law firm, and a "relationship" just wouldn't fit right now. I am not actively seeking it; if it happens it happens. Besides I always have BoB waiting for me at home. Me and BoB go way back and he never disappoints. Yippee.

  By the way things are unfolding on the dance floor this guy is already putty in her hands. He really didn't stand a chance. Most guys are drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and like the moth, they usually get burned. That is just Macy, and I love her in spite of it and her ways. So I guess I am calling my best friend a slut, but she will be the first to admit it. Actually, on several occasions she has referred to herself as such.

  I make my way through the crowded dance floor to where Macy and her random guy are dancing, glancing around trying to find Chloe. The three of us always stay together when we go out, but she is nowhere to be found. Macy notices me looking around.

  "She got a call from Jason and left, all smiles," Macy says with a wicked wink and goes back to grinding on her random guy. I just nod and smile and go about dancing on my own. I am not the most elegant or graceful dancer in the world; actually, I have two left feet. But on a crowded dance floor in a poorly lit club, I don't mind and no one really cares. Occasionally, Macy will look at me and giggle because I look more like a new born calf trying its legs out for the first time than a dancer. As I am attempting to move to the pulsating rhythm, someone bumps into me. No big deal; it is a very crowded dance floor. But then another bump and this one hurts just a little. And then another bump and I roll my eyes and think if this asshole does it again, that's it! Than a fourth bump, and this one nearly knocks me over.

  "What the hell?" I spew, turning around to see the asshole that keeps bumping into me. As I turn, I see the "sexy hair guy" right behind me. You've got to be fucking kidding me?

  "Well?" I scream as I began to see red.

  "Well what?" he easily says with this smirk on his perfect face. And damn is it perfect. Perfectly kissable. Perfectly lickable. Perfectly perfect.

  I shake my head from the sexy hair guy induced haze. "What do you mean what? You just nearly knocked me over after bumping into me for the fourth time!"

  "Hey, you're the rude girl that bumped into me by the bathrooms without saying excuse me, so I guess we're even," he says, still with that damn grin on his face, running his hand through his oh so touchable hair.

  Stop it Kassidy.

  "Are you kidding me? You're the one who keeps bumping into me. Maybe you need to lay off the Heineken. It's fucking with your perception of reality and equilibrium, asshole!"

  "At least this 'asshole' knows how to have a good time. Maybe you should have a few drinks so you can get an idea what that's like," he replies back to me with that damn smirk on this face.

  "You are such a dick!"

  "Are you sure you know what a dick looks like? Because the way you're overreacting to this leads me to believe you haven't seen a dick in quite some time," he matter-of-factly says, still with that damn smirk.

  All I can respond with is "Ugh!" and I storm off the dance floor.

  Did that just really happen? Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell did "sexy hair guy" know I wasn't getting some? Do I have a huge neon sign above my head signaling "single girl not getting laid; currently dating BoB"? Unbelievable. I need a drink, and not because he said I did. My inner self just smiles, with her arms folded, shaking her head.

  I make my way back to the bar still confused by what just happened between "sexy hair guy" and me. He seriously thinks I am the one to apologize. Is he fucking kidding me? I order my extra dirty martini and begin to calm down; I think it’s a combination of the vodka and the distance I’ve put between myself and him. All I can think about, and this is really starting to bother me, was that smirk on that perfect face and the way he ran his hand through his hair. He really was god-like. Perfectly chiseled features, strong jaw and as I yelled—screamed—whatever at him, I noticed he had the most unbelievably piercing green eyes. They were the kind of eyes that could see deep into your soul.

  Get a hold of yourself, Kassidy.

  I continue to calm down and again sip on the most delicious extra dirty martini (I must remember to have this bartender make my drinks all the time), when Macy comes bounding up behind me.

  "I'm taking off with Chad."

  So muscles has a name she actually remembers.

  "Really, Macy? Be careful with this one; it looks like he could break you. And I'm impressed you actually know and remember his name."

  "Silly Kas, you don't understand, I think this one could be the one. There's something different about him. He's like my hunky muscle man the way he was dancing with me."

  "You go have fun, I'll be fine. Be safe."

  "You know I will, and I will call you with details tomorrow."

  "I look forward to it." Cue eye roll.

  "You gonna go soon?" she asks as Chad pulls her away with his massive hands.

  "Just gonna finish up my martini and then it's home."

  "Love ya and mean it."

  "Right back at ya, Macy."

  And with that she disappears. It is really something for Macy to say this could be the one. She doesn't ever say that about any of the guys she's been with. Maybe this will be the one to tame her wild ways. Miracles do happen. Hunky man, she kills me.

  I finish the last few drops of my martini and walk out into the crisp cool night; knowing the two martinis I did have, haven’t affected my ability to drive. Plus I’ve got a bottle of water waiting in my car. The air is invigorating compared to the alcohol-stifling atmosphere of the club. I give the valet my ticket and wait. I notice a couple against the lamppost getting into it. He’s practically eating her face. I quickly turn my head to avoid the show and thankfully the valet pulls up with my car. As I climb into my car, I feel relief to know that my girls are happy, and I realize I actually had a good time, with one exception…"sexy hair guy." Thank God, I will never have to see him again. After all, he did tell that girl he was just visiting. Oh I’m sure we’ll be seeing him again…in our dreams.

  You are so delusional if you think we are going to dream about him.

  Just wait and see. Wait and see.

  I pull away from the curb, and I am blocked from moving any further down the street by some car in the way. There is a guy leaning into the driver's side just carrying on a conversation and standing there like he owns the street. As I look on, I notice he has a really great ass, the kind of ass you just want to sink your teeth into. Oh my God if we don’t get something more than plastic, rubber and battery operated stimulation I am going to die. Just as I begin to chide my inner self, the wind blows his shirt up a little, and I catch a glimpse of what could only be described as the most perfectly sculpted abs, I have ever seen. Come back to Earth, Kassidy. I honk the horn, and the guy raises a long slender finger out of the car signaling to give him a minute.

  That is a nice finger.

  Keep it together Kassidy. Just ignore her.

  Just imagine what that finger could do?

  I mean…Shut up!

  A couple of minutes later my patience has grown thin, so I honk again, pushing down hard and long, and he ignores me. Seriously, what is with assholes this evening? Another car then pulls out, and I am able to drive around asshole and the stupid Camaro he is leaning into. As I make my way around the Camaro, I put down the window and yell "asshole" and instinctively shoot them a different version of a finger than he’s showed me earlier. I look in my review mirror as I pull away shooting daggers at his magnificent ass since his torso is still leaning into the damn Camaro. The guy finally stands u
p, and that's when I see it’s "sexy hair guy" Are you fucking kidding me? I am finally glad to be heading home knowing that I will never run into that asshole again.

  CHAPTER 3

  Instinctively, I twist my fingers into his luxurious, silky hair and pull him closer to me. My breathing accelerating, my heart pounding.

  "Oh God."

  "Kassidy, baby¸" he breathes into my ear.

  His lips caress my ear lobe, and then he gently tugs on it with his teeth. His tongue flickers down my neck to my collarbone. I can feel him in every pore of my skin.

  "Please," I moan. I am so not above begging right now.

  He reaches one hand and grasps my hair by the nape of my neck. The other hand, with fingers tantalizing, goes down toward my side to my hip. I gasp as he tugs at my panties, naturally finding his way to my sex. I can feel his breath warm on my neck as he groans my name, "Kassidy."

  His fingers caress my clit and then make their way inside, moving ever so slowly, releasing every ounce of pent up sexual desire I have for him.

  "Oh God, don't stop," I beg.

  He quickens his stroking while his teeth pull at my nipple, elongating and making it harder still. I beg again like a whore in a cheap brothel, "Please I need all of you. I need to feel you in me. I can't take it anymore." His fingers pull out of me and my body protests at the loss of fullness and contact. He reaches between us and I feel his tip at my aching, needy entrance. He enters so slowly it hurts. My body is on fire and needs him like yesterday. He fully enters me and I am consumed by him. My walls clench around him pulling him in deeper—needing him deeper. He fills me completely and begins to torturously move inside me. He breathes against my neck, bringing an onslaught of goose bumps to my skin. My body needs him, wants him, craves him. My fingers trail the contours of his muscular back, while I wrap my legs around him still needing him deeper—closer.