I have a fancy new website!! Join me over at...
http://alisongbailey.com/
.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Saturday, March 22, 2014
It's My Birthday & I'll Do What I Want.
.jpg)
Tweet left me high and dry today for our interview. I got a voicemail saying how sorry she was, but her and Noah had some celebrating of their own to do. What happened to the heartfelt adage, "Chicks before di...?" Anywho...
A few days ago I started writing my third book!!!! That sounds crazy but it's true. I want to thank everyone for making this possible. You've given me a new life and career. If you ever wonder whether or not you've had an impact on someone's life, the answer will always be yes. Each of you who have read my books, sent me notes, commented on my various social media pages have all impacted my life significantly.
Below is a little bit of an extremely rough, unedited, and subject to change draft of Presently Perfect, the third and final book of the Perfect series.
Presently
Perfect
By
Alison
G. Bailey
Tweet was standing on the first step at the other end of
the pool in a red string bikini that barely covered her fun girl parts. Her hair
fell down over her really soft looking shoulders. Her usually dark hair was a
different color in the summertime. Streaks of lighter brown mixed through the
darkness. I don’t know if she went somewhere to have that done on purpose or
not. I didn’t care. All I knew was she looked hot no matter what her hair color
was. I swallowed so hard I heard it thud in the back of my throat. Every part
of my body froze except one. She began walking down the steps slowly—sexy smile
hinted across her lips, her chin tucked slightly to her chest, and her gaze
fixed on me through long dark lashes. The look in her teal eyes was intense. The
weight on my chest was getting heavier the longer I stared at her. I watched as
her shapely legs disappeared little by little into the water. Her boobs jiggled
slightly with each movement. I loved when they did that. God, I wanted to touch her. She stopped at the last step. The water
gently lapped against her skin at mid-thigh. I cleared my throat, wanting to
say something, but nothing came out.
Bending over slightly, she cupped her hands together,
scooping up water and mimicked my movement from earlier. The coolness poured
over her, wetting her hair and skin. I followed one large droplet as it slid
down her neck, over her collarbone, and slipped between her boobs before
vanishing into her bikini. My eyes shot up to meet hers. Raising one hand, she
crooked her finger in my direction inviting me to come closer. At first I
didn’t think I’d be able to move. I had had boners before but this was the
granddaddy of all boners.
Now is not the time to think about
old man boners. Not that there’s ever a time to think about old man boners.
Stop thinking about old man boners. Hot Tweet, hot Tweet, concentrate on hot
Tweet.
Adrenaline
pumped through me at record speed, causing my entire body to vibrate from the
inside out. As inconspicuously as possible, I lowered my hand into the water to
adjust my rock hard business. I didn’t want Tweet to think I was a perv. Slowly
I swam toward her, dunking my face in the water in hopes that it would calm me
down before I lost complete control and attacked her. I emerged from the water
hotter and more turned on because of her closeness. Our chests were only an
inch a part, almost touching with our heavy breathing. My gaze connected with
hers and I got disoriented for a minute, with no awareness of anything but the
beautiful girl in front of me. I don’t know how long I stood there disappearing
into her.
I
sensed movement out the corner of my eye. Glancing away I caught the sight of
Tweet’s fingers making their way toward the thin string of material draped over
her shoulder, the only obstacle between me and paradise. It would take just one
slight tug and my fantasy would be complete. She tilted her head to the side
away from me, pushing her hair off her neck to reveal the bow that held her
scrapes of material up. The edges of her pale pink lips curled up a little more
as her fingers came together, the string resting between them. My gaze darted
back and forth between her eyes and her hand a few times before the hand won
out.
I
watched as she pulled down, the string slowly untwisting from itself. I had to
touch her now. The tingling sensation in my fingers was achingly painful. My
breath was coming out in quick short spurts. Every part of my body throbbed. I
leaned in toward her neck. My mouth slightly opened, tip of tongue sneaking
between my lips, ready to taste her. Finally the string broke completely away
and fell. I couldn’t wait to feel her nipples rub against my chest. I stepped
in closer. The heat from her body radiated across my lips. She ran her
fingernails down my chest and stomach, applying just the right amount of
pressure to scratch the surface of my skin. Tweet’s hand slipped under the
waistband of my swim trunks and continued to travel down. My heart was pounding
so loudly I could hear the echo all around me. The breath caught in my lungs as
her long fingers curled around my…
“Noah!”
Pound. Pound. Pound. “Noah!”
My
eyes shot open. I was disoriented for several seconds. I heard the knob to my
bedroom door clicking back and forth and I knew I was in my room.
“Noah
it’s time to get up. I have breakfast ready,” Mom’s muffled voice came through
the door.
My
chest caved in disappointment. Clearing my throat, trying to sound unaffected,
I said, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Are
you okay? You sound funny.”
“I’m
fine. I just woke up.”
As
I heard her footsteps fade down the hall my eyes moved around the room. My
comforter was hanging off the edge of the bed, my sheets and pillow case were
soaked in sweat, and my dick was reaching for the sky. It was just a fucking dream.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Inside My Head
Today Alison and I are strolling along the brick path surrounding Waterfront Park in downtown Charleston. Looking out over the harbor, the sky is a mixture of blue and gray with a weak sun trying desperately to peek through the clouds. A cool breeze of sea mist brushes across my face. There's a stillness in the air. We are almost alone except for an occasional passerby. Alison seems deep in thought today, not her usual chatty self. I'm concerned that something is wrong.
Tweet: Everything okay?
Alison: (nodding her head, she gives me a slight smile). Mmm...hmm.
Tweet: This is going to be a very short Q&A if you're going to answer via guttural noises. (I smile. She knows I'm just teasing her.)
Alison: Sorry. I've got a lot on my mind.
Tweet: Now I'm curious. What's got you all up in your head?
We approach the huge pineapple fountain, water spurting from the top, and sit.
Alison: Well, for one thing my next book. Scenes and dialogue keep popping into my head, but I haven't written any of it down. The thing about writing is, it's hard to turn it off. You don't just write while sitting in front of a computer screen. I'm always writing in my head. It's very consuming for me. Also, I have a special project in the works for Present Perfect and Past Imperfect that's occupying my time along with the continued promoting and business aspect of writing. I'm not a multi-tasker, so sometimes it's overwhelming.
Tweet: Being a writer isn't just something you do, it's who you are. You started writing Present Perfect January 2013. You've got two books completed and a third just beginning. Have your goals changed since starting this new career?
Alison: The goals for my books haven't really changed. I want to write stories that impact the reader. I want them to feel the emotions of the characters, get invested in the lives of the characters, and learn something from the characters. I want to continue to choose subject matters that are unique, shine a light on situations that people need to be aware of.
My career goals have certainly changed. When my first book was released I didn't even think in terms of this being a career. I figured if I had one story in me then so be it. At some point between Present Perfect being out and Past Imperfect being written I started to look at this as a viable career. Reading it such a personal thing and I've been given the opportunity to reach people in that way. Do I care about numbers? Sure, to a certain degree. There is a business aspect to writing, but the numbers aren't the end all be all. I want to inspire others to go after their dreams no matter the situation. I had help getting to this point in my career, it's my job to pass that help along to another. I'm not trying to be better than the next person. I'm just trying to be better than I was yesterday.
Alison turns her gaze toward the harbor. By the look on her face there is no doubt that the scenes and dialogue for book 3 have started swirling around her head once again.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
"Thank you and goodbye".
It’s a gorgeous day in Charleston. The sun is out and the
temp is a sweet 75 degrees. Alison and I decided to meet at her home today for
our little chat. I find her sitting at the pool enjoying the spring like
weather. She doesn’t notice me
approaching. Her head is down and her focus intense. As I walk up I clear my
throat a couple of times trying to get her attention.
Tweet: Helllooooo.
Alison (startled): Oh hi. Sorry I didn’t hear you come up.
I pull a chair over to the table
she’s at and sit.
Tweet: Whatcha got going on there?
I tilt my
chin toward her lap.
Alison: It’s my new Kindle Paperwhite. I lurve it!
She holds
the ereader up proudly and smiles.
Tweet: What book has your undivided attention today?
Alison: The Sweet Gum Tree. It’s really good so far. It
starts off with the two main characters, Alix and Nick as children.
Tweet: I always love stories like that.
We
exchange big grins.
So, are
you ready for today’s question?
Alison: Shoot.
Tweet: There are a lot of quotable lines in both Present
Perfect and Past Imperfect. One of the lines that gets quoted a lot is, “Everyone
deserves a thank you and goodbye.” Where did the idea of that line come from?
Alison: That line is directly related to my father, Dreher Gaskin.
It’s unfortunate that when we have great parents that we don’t always fully appreciate
them until we are adults. I was very blessed to have parents who were my
parents while I grew up. Later on they became my friends, but as a kid they
were strictly my parents.
My dad
was a big guy, standing 6’4. He played football in high school as well as in
college and was drafted by the Detroit Lions. I always looked up to him. No
matter how old I got I looked to him as the one person who had all the smart
answers. He was honest, reliable, funny, and loved his family more than anything.
I always felt bad for him. Here he was this big athlete and he ended up having
two girls. It never bothered him, though. My sister ran track and played
basketball, so he did have an athlete in the family, just not a football
player.
I, on the
other hand, was as un-athletic as you could get, but my dad still found ways
for us to spend time together. We would go fishing and during the holidays he’d
take me to the local Christmas parade. He wasn’t a huge fan of the holidays, so
the fact that he endured a parade speaks volumes. One of my best memories of
him was when I got sick and had to have blood transfusions, which took all day
and was extremely boring. He would always take me to the Dairy Queen for
supper. Back in the 70’s people didn’t go out to eat like they do now, so it
was an extra special treat. We went there so many times during one holiday
season that I collected eight Santa glasses that I still have today. These are
real glass glasses with Santa painted on them. I’m sure the paint used was
loaded with lead, but back then lead was good for you. Ha-ha.
When I was diagnosed with aplastic anemia and my parents found
out the bone marrow transplant was the only hope, my dad moved the family to
Seattle. The Fred Hutchinson Medical Center was one of only 3 places they were performing
the BMT on people. One of the main physicians was at The Hutch, so that’s where
we went. My dad was out there with me, my mom, and sister for as long as
possible before he had to return to Charleston and his job. I don’t know how
many trips across country he made during the 4 months we were out there, but
there were a lot. That was my dad, though. He’d do anything for his family. We
were never a family who went around saying “I love you” all the time, but I
always felt the love through actions.
In Jan 2011 my dad got sick. He was in the hospital for
three and a half months before he passed away. Me, my mom, and sister were with
him every day and into the night. During those three months I connected with my
dad more than any other time in my life. See, I knew how to be a patient. I had
had a lot of practice during my life. I was never as proud of my dad as I was
while he was sick. His strength and humor was incredible.
On April 11 at 9:30 am, my mom and I were just pulling into
the hospital parking lot when the call came that daddy was having trouble
breathing. Now we had gotten this call on four other occasions and he pulled
through. By the time we reached his room he had passed away. I never got a chance
to say the words “thank you and goodbye”. He knew how much we all loved him
through our actions, but still not saying those words haunted me for a long
time. Somehow I ended up being the one
who wrote his obituary. There was a lot of talk about including his sports
career—his college football records, being inducted into the South Carolina and
Clemson Sports Hall of Fame. I, of course, included his sports accomplishments,
but he was so much more than that. I wanted people to know the man, the father,
and the grandfather he was. It was my chance to give him his “thank you and
goodbye”.
.png)
My dad, Clemson 1953
My wedding 1995
Saturday, March 1, 2014
And the answer is...
Butterflies are swirling around inside my stomach as I enter
the Sweetwater Café in downtown Charleston. I’m so excited to see her and to
start our new project. I spot her immediately sitting in a booth all the way in
the back of the tiny café with a pitcher of dark fizzy liquid, Diet Pepsi, and
a piece of chocolate cake. I linger at the door for a few seconds and watch as
she pokes the fork into the top of the cake drawing back a sizable amount of
frosting. She pops it quickly into her mouth, no doubt trying to hide the fact
that she’s eating her cake like a 4 year old, frosting first.
As I
approach, the corners of her mouth curl up and her eyes slant as a huge smile
appears.
Tweet: Hey Alison!
Alison: Hey girlie! How are you?
Tweet: I’m fantastic. How about you?
Alison: I got Diet Pepsi and cake…what could be better?
Tweet: Point taken. Thank you again for letting me interview you.
Alison: You’re more than welcome. I hope folks won’t find me
too boring.
Tweet: Oh I’ll make you sound interesting.
We exchang
quick smirks. The waitress walks over and places an empty glass in front of me.
Alison graciously, albeit reluctantly, pours some of her liquid gold from the
frosty pitcher. I take out my notepad and pen, kicking it old school, and begin
the interview.
Tweet: So, I figured since March was our birthday month, we would spend each Saturday getting to know
you a little better.
Alison: Sounds good.
Tweet: I’ll be asking you one question each week because let’s
face it, people are interested in you just not that interested.
Alison: Smartass.
Tweet: I do my best. Okay, let’s get started. The question
this week is…
It says in
your bio that as a child you used to make up additional scenes in your head to
TV shows and movies. Why did you start doing that, was it something that just
came naturally?
Alison: I guess in a way it came naturally. When I was 7
years old I was diagnosed with the blood disease aplastic anemia. Basically, my
bone marrow had stopped working, no longer producing red blood cells. For a
year the only treatments available were to put me on steroids and have blood
transfusions when my counts got down low. My immune system was pretty nonexistent.
Running around playing with other kids the risk of getting cut or bruised was a
big concern of my doctor. Seeing as how my body wasn’t producing red blood cells
I couldn’t afford losing even the smallest amount of blood. Not to mention the
risk of catching something even as minor as the sniffles could have landed me
in the hospital. Plus, the steroids caused me to puff up like a balloon, which was
uncomfortable and awkward. As a kid you just want to blend in and be like
everyone else, be accepted.
I had one
friend, Beth, who was allowed to come over to my house and we played like any 7
year old girls did, but TV was certainly a constant companion. My favorite show
at that time was the Bionic Woman. I loved her. I know a lot of people leaned
toward Wonder Woman, mostly guys. Let’s face it, the only reason they liked
Wonder Woman was because of the outfit. Guys couldn’t have cared less about her
superhero powers. What I loved about Jamie Summers, The Bionic Woman, was the
fact that she was a pretty lady, wearing regular clothes who could kick anyone’s
ass. She didn’t need gold bracelets or a magic lasso. So, I started coming up with
extended scenes with me playing The Bionic Woman. I also watched Happy Days and
cast myself in the role of Pinky Tuscadero when I went through my Fonzie stage.
Pinky & The Fonz
At 8 years
old my parents found out a few medical centers in the country were starting to
perform bone marrow transplants on people. It was still in the experimental
stage but, I found out much later in life, it was my only chance of surviving.
My sister was the closest match for me and became my donor. The aplastic anemia
was cured, but I continued to have a lot of health issues, having partial
rejection of the transplant. I had to remain fairly isolated due to the danger
of infection. TV remained my best friend. As I got older I watched shows like
All In The Family, The Odd Couple, and MASH. I started paying attention to the
smart, clever, and funny dialogue and how it could be intertwined with compelling
stories. This is probably why my books are heavy on dialogue. It’s my most
favorite thing to write.
Tweet: So something great can come from watching too much TV.
Alison: Absolutely.
Tweet: Thank you Alison for sharing a part of you today. I can’t
wait to get together again next week.
Alison: My pleasure. I do have one question for you, Tweet.
Is Noah as good as I imagine him to be?
I lean in
toward the table sporting a huge grin.
Tweet: He’s even better.
Alison: Wamfu.
Friday, February 7, 2014
SNEAK PEEK: PAST IMPERFECT
Synopsis
In Present Perfect, Brad Johnson was sexy, cocky, rich and a complete Smurff**ker. He could afford anything he wanted and could charm any girl he set his eyes on. Everything was laid out in front of him, all for the taking except the one thing he craved and needed. A tragic event forces him to reevaluate his life. When he tries to change, will the people in his life let him move on from his past or will they constantly hold him to the life altering mistakes he’s made?
Mabry Darnell is intelligent, ambitious, beautiful, and sassy. Secrets from her past haunt the present causing her to question her actions in order to shield her heart and protect her life.
From the moment Brad and Mabry met, their connection was strong, intense, and electrifying. Both knew they had found the one person who could satisfy what the other ached for. When their pasts collide with their present, will it prevent them from having a future together or will love be strong enough to conquer their demons?
Brad
I’m sitting in front of her as she leans back on my desk, proofing a letter for me. Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun, exposing that spot right at the nape of her neck that drives her crazy when I run my tongue over it. As usual her makeup is light and natural, except today she’s wearing a deep red lipstick, making her lips look extra pouty. She raises the pen she’s holding and slips the tip of it into her mouth. My dick immediately twitches. My eyes roam down her body admiring the way her light gray dress glides over every curve so smoothly. I wonder if she’s even wearing panties. I shift uncomfortably in my chair. Looking down I recognize the sexy black heels with the strap around the ankle. They were draped over my shoulders and digging into my back a couple of nights ago when I had Mabry on the edge of the dining room table, my face buried between her thighs. I look back up, trying to control the urge to shove her dress up and have a repeat performance of that night. My eyes stop at the wide black leather belt around her waist. Fuck me. We’ve used that on occasion too. No matter what part of her body my eyes land on, my dick reacts. I know she feels my gaze because her nipples are hard and straining against the material of her dress. I take in a deep breath and let it out quickly.
“You sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable sitting on my lap?” I smirk up at her.
The corners of her mouth curl up into a sexy grin. The pen she’s holding is aimed in my direction. “We agreed. No funny business at work.”
I run my hand up her thigh and feel the shiver that moves through her body.
Sweet baby Jesus! I think I feel a garter.
“Sweetness, the business I’m thinking about engaging in would definitely not be funny. I hope it wouldn’t be anyway.” I start easing out of my chair, inching my way up her body as I say, “That’d be quite a blow to my ego if you were to laugh as I bring you to the ultimate height of ecstasy.” I flash her the smile as I cock my eyebrow.
We’re face-to-face now. My hands planted firmly on either side of her hips, caging her in. Her chest rises and falls a little faster than normal as she looks directly at me. My lips skim down the side of her face heading towards her mouth, and I nibble lightly at the corners. She’s so caught up in the moment, I’m able to take the letter from her and toss it on to my desk.
Moving my mouth to her ear, I whisper, “Let’s play hot secretary and bossy naughty boss.”
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
COVER REVEAL!!!!! Past Imperfect
.jpg)
Cover Designer: Robin Harper, Wicked by Design; photography by Abigail
Marie, NON`PA*REIL photography
Synopsis
In
Present Perfect, Brad Johnson was sexy, cocky, rich and a complete Smurff**ker.
He could afford anything he wanted and could charm any girl he set his eyes on.
Everything was laid out in front of him, all for the taking except the one
thing he craved and needed. A tragic event forces him to reevaluate his life.
When he tries to change, will the people in his life let him move on from his
past or will they constantly hold him to the life altering mistakes he’s made?
Mabry Darnell is intelligent, ambitious, beautiful, and sassy. Secrets from her past haunt the present causing her to question her actions in order to shield her heart and protect her life.
Mabry Darnell is intelligent, ambitious, beautiful, and sassy. Secrets from her past haunt the present causing her to question her actions in order to shield her heart and protect her life.
From the
moment Brad and Mabry met, their connection was strong, intense, and
electrifying. Both knew they had found the one person who could satisfy what
the other ached for. When their pasts collide with their present, will it
prevent them from having a future together or will love be strong enough to
conquer their demons?
____________________________________________________________________________
Present Perfect (Perfect #1)
Purchase Links
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/present-perfect-alison-g-bailey/1116394694?ean=2940045203678
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Monday, December 30, 2013
HAPPY OLD YEAR!!!!!!!!
Things that made 2013 memorable, in no particular order.
1. All the emails, texts, messages, and posts that I received congratulating me on Present Perfect.
2. When I was told by another author that my book was the talk at the Naughty Mafia event in Vegas.
3. The passion, kindness, humor, and thoughtfulness of my readers.
4. Readers telling me they loved Tweet, they hated Tweet, they wanted to strangle Tweet, but they cried for Tweet.
5. All the Noah love.
6. My mom loving the book.
7. The incredible community of bloggers who supported me.
8. The amazing group of beta readers I have.
9. I got a fantastic agent in Amy Tannenbaum.
10. Moms telling me that their high school or college age daughters also read the book. Thanking me for giving them something to bond over.
11. My 18-year-old niece loving the book.
12. The mother who wrote me, telling me her son had gone through the same thing as Tweet, is happy and in college now.
13. The nursing student who asked my advice on working with patients.
14. My name being in the same sentence as Colleen Hoover,
15. The generosity of readers and bloggers, including Present Perfect on their best of/fav of 2013 lists.
16. Jax Teller and SoA (The list wouldn't be complete without him.)
17. Present Perfect broke into Amazon's top 100.
18. My incredible new contact lenses that not only improved my vision, but my quality of life.
19. Starting my second book.
20. All the lessons that I've learned, personally and career wise.
Thank you everyone for making this year one of the best of my life. Cheers 2013! It was a helluva ride!
I wish health and happiness to you and your family in 2014.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
.jpg)
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Past Imperfect by Alison G. Bailey
Past Imperfect
by
Alison G. Bailey
Copyright 2013 Alison G. Bailey
(unedited and subject to change prior to publication)
Chapter 1
The
Present
I’ve
rented the private patio at our favorite restaurant in downtown Charleston, the
Peninsula Grill. I had them remove all the tables except for the one we will be
sitting at. The area is secluded and away from the noisy activity of the
restaurant and street. Small white lights snake up and around each palmetto
tree that surrounds the area. In the center a table for two is dressed with
white linen, crystal champagne flutes, and pristine silverware. In the middle
of the table there’s a crystal vase with a dozen orange tiger lilies and some
sort of purple flowers. Being a graduate of Clemson University, her favorite
colors are orange and purple. Tiger lilies are her favorite flower. I just told
the florist orange tiger lilies, purple, and make it look perfect.
Checking my watch for the five
hundredth time in the past ten minutes, I steal another glance towards the
entrance. I can feel my breathing speed up and my palms feel as if I have dunked
them in water. If she doesn’t get here in the next few seconds, I’m going to be
a hyperventilating-sweaty-impeccably dressed mess. Just as I let out a deep
breath I hear her soft voice float through the air.
“Brad,” she says breathlessly with
just a hint of surprise in her tone.
God, I love the way my name sounds coming
out of her mouth. Her incredibly talented mouth that’s surrounded by her full
pale pink lips. The bottom lip is slightly more plump than the upper one. When she’s
concentrating hard on something, her teeth graze across that bottom lip as it’s
sucked into her mouth. There is no better sight in this world than Mabry
Darnell concentrating. Whenever she is thinking
hard, I get hard. I can’t help it. It’s as if her mouth and my dick have this
synchronicity. In fact, everything about us feels in synch.
From the moment she walked into my
dad’s law firm, she grabbed my attention. We are both first year lawyers which
means we are low on the food chain in the firm. Even though it’s my father’s
law firm, dear dad doesn’t believe in playing favorites, especially where I’m
concerned. Mabry and I have spent a lot of late nights together preparing for
cases. We flirted, got to know each other, and I asked her out. She kept
refusing until she could no longer resist the charming masculinity that is Brad
Johnson. We’ve kept things casual, but I knew from the second I laid eyes on
her, my reaction was different. It was more than lust at first sight. I’ve fallen
for this girl and need her in my life.
I’ve been with a lot of pretty
girls, but Mabry is the first beautiful woman for me. When I say beautiful, I
don’t just mean on the outside, although, the outside is mouthwatering.
Everything about her holds my attention.
She stands about five feet six inches on shapely toned legs that lead up
to her perfectly round ass, small waist, and one of the all-time best racks the
good Lord has ever created. I’ve seen a lot of racks, so I consider myself an
expert. Her shoulder length chestnut
brown hair frames a well-defined, but soft square jawline and when she smiles,
smirks, or grins her straight little nose crinkles up in the most adorable way
causing my heart to skip a beat every time. Her azure blue eyes pop against the
backdrop of her creamy pale skin, and are captivating. The outside is
effortlessly beautiful and sexy, but what drew me in and has held me is what’s behind
those eyes.
The times she’s dealing with a
colleague or client those eyes match the tone of the meeting, warm and kind, or
strong and serious. But, it’s in the quiet times, when she thinks no one is
looking that those eyes hold the most truth. There is something intriguing and
sad behind them during those unguarded moments.
“Hey Sweetness,” I say.
I walk over to her and pull her into
my chest. I close my eyes as the smell of vanilla hits me. I pull back slightly
and place a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth, letting the tip of my tongue
skim across the crease quickly. I have to watch myself. Things with Mabry can
go from zero to a hundred-eighty in less than five seconds. Pulling back I stare into her beautiful eyes.
I can’t believe I found her. She’s perfect for me. We have been ‘together’ for three months and tonight
is the night. I’m going to tell her how much I love her. I don’t know at what
point during the night I’m going to say it, I just know I’m ready to say it. I’ve
never said those words to anyone before, so I want everything to be special tonight.
We walk over to the table and I pull
the chair out for her. “What’s all this for?” she asks.
“I just thought it would be nice to
do something different, is all.” I sit
down across from her, taking her hand and lacing our fingers together.
“This is a little more than just ‘different’. It’s not my birthday,” she
says as her lips form into a straight line at the same time her head cocks to
one side. Then her eyes widen and her mouth goes slack. “Oh god, it’s not your
birthday, is it?”
“Sweetness, if it was my birthday
eating dinner with you would be the last thing I’d be doing.”Looking up at me through her long dark lashes, she asks in a sultry voice, “What would you be doing?”
I lean in close so that we are
nose-to-nose. “I’d have you spread across my bed tasting you.” I hold her gaze
for a moment before I look down and see the huge lump she is swallowing slide
down her slender neck.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I smirk.
“Say stuff like that to me in
public. You know what it does to me,” she says shifting in her chair.I lean back, happy with myself. I love to tease her and make her squirm. “Then you need to relax and enjoy. Don’t question it.” My voice now sounds slightly annoyed.
Mabry is very guarded. She’s less so with me now, but still questions every nice thing I do for her. I hate it and at this point don’t understand why she’s still like that with me. She’s suspicious that ulterior motives are attached. It strikes a nerve with me because I’m not like that anymore. I’m upfront and honest with people. I’ve learned my lesson the hard way.
“Fine. I’m sorry. I appreciate all
the trouble you went to. You know you don’t have to do this type of thing for
me.”
“I want to do this type of thing for
you.” We hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds before hearing her name from
across the patio.
He’s tall, dark, and has douchebag
written all over him. As he walks up to our table, Mabry gives me a tight smile
and squeezes my hand before pulling hers away.
“Hey
Ten,” she greets Sir Douche.“Hey, I thought it was you sitting out here,” he says.
“I’m surprised you saw me out here especially with the restaurant being so crowded.”
“I’d always be able to spot you no matter how many people were in the room,” he replies, staring at her a little too long.
Who
the hell is this guy?
I
clear my throat startling my date.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Ten this is Brad
Johnson, a colleague.” I cringe slightly at the reference. “Brad
this is Ten McGuire,” Mabry introduces.
We shake hands. “Tin? Like Rin Tin
Tin, the dog?” I ask.
He gives me a smug look, the motherfucker, and answers, “Short
for Tennyson. It’s a family name.”
“Does your family hate you?”
Mabry gently kicks me under the
table causing my gaze to snap in her direction. “Brad!”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Ten. Brad has a weird
sense of humor.”
Is
she actually apologizing for me?
“That’s
okay. I get that a lot.” Sir Douche throws another smug look my way before
focusing back on Mabry. “You were amazing in court today.” Every muscle in my
body starts to tighten.
I notice a slight blush creep over
Mabry’s cheeks. “Thank you, but I didn’t do anything, besides sit there.”
“The research you did for the case
was extremely well done and detailed. Maybe we can get together sometime and
discuss your future.”
Well,
fuck me. Fuck you.
“Maybe,” she says, with a slight
nervous laugh, glancing over at me.
An awkward pause takes over as his
eyes roam down, landing on her chest, before shooting back up to meet her eyes.
My fists and jaw clench tighter.
“I should let you two get back to
your business. Brad, it was nice to meet you,” he says, never taking his eyes
off of her. “Mabry, it’s always great to see you.”
He takes a step back and Mabry gives
him a slight smile just before he exits.
Turning back to me she looks over
with concern written across her face. “I’m sorry about that.” I don’t respond.
I’m trying to get my temper under control so I don’t blow the entire place
up. I feel her hand wrap around mine.
“Are you okay?”
“That’s incredible.”
“What?” she asks.
“The way Sir Douche can kiss your
ass so thoroughly while you’re sitting on it. What was that, Mabry?” I look
over at her.
“A colleague coming over to say hi.”
“Is that all it is?” My voice is low
as I stare into her eyes.
“To me it is. Are you jealous?” There’s
surprise in her voice when she asks the question.
“Should I be?” My words sound colder
than I meant them to.
“No. I’m not like that.”
I look deep into her eyes, making
sure what she’s saying is true. It is. We’ve never discussed being exclusive, I
just assume we are. Of course, we’ve never discussed what this is between us. The
leg of my pants rises as her foot travels up and down it. My dick starts to
twitch and all thoughts of Sir Douche vanish.
****
I
fumble with my keys, trying to unlock the door to my condo, as I pin Mabry
against it. Our tongues take turns darting in and out of each other’s mouths
while she’s undoing my belt. I finally get the door open and we stumble into
the room, our lips never disconnecting.
I close the door by shoving her up against it. My hips grind into her as
my hands move to the back of her neck, my fingers tangling in her hair. Her
hands move underneath my jacket and push it over my shoulders, tossing it to
the side. She undoes my tie and quickly unbuttons my shirt using the same
movement as she did with my jacket. When her hand lightly grazes one of my
nipples a bolt of electricity runs through me and I almost come right then.
Next, she works the button and zipper of my pants. Her hand moves inside and she grabs my dick
releasing it from my boxers. I feel my knees buckle slightly.
I pull away in order to take a
breath. Staring into her eyes I see desire mixed with the sadness that is
always prevalent. I almost tell her I love her, but the words seem to stick in
my throat. Grabbing the hem of her
dress, I slide it up as my hands run over her smooth hips and torso. She lifts
her arms allowing me to peel the dress off her completely and then it finds a
spot on top of my shirt and jacket. My
eyes roam down her body. She’s wearing a black lace push up bra, a pair of black
four inch stilettos, and that’s it.
Fuck me,
I love this girl.
I
plunge my tongue back into its rightful place inside Mabry’s mouth. My hands glide over her ass as hers move up
and down my dick. The only sounds in the room are the moans coming from us and
the occasional thud as I push her against the door.
“Talk to me,” she whispers on my
lips. Her tits push against my chest with each heavy breath she takes. Mabry likes dirty talk and it just so happens
that I like to talk dirty. It’s a
win-win.
I kiss along her jaw until I reach
just below her ear. “I’m going to fuck
you, baby. You want to know how?” I
whisper in a raspy voice.
“Yes,” she moans.
“I’m going to take my tongue and
lick down your body, only stopping to suck on your beautiful tits.” I bring my
hand up and pinch one of her hard nipples through the lace causing her back to
arch. “I dream about your tits, Mabry,” I continue. “I’m going to lick all the
way down to between your legs. Then I’m going to suck you hard just before I
fuck you with my tongue.”
“Inside. Now!” she yells out.
I slip off my shoes as she slips her
hand into my pocket to grab the condom. Holding the foil packet between her
teeth, she slides down the door until she’s squatting in front of me, taking my
pants and boxers with her. I place my palms flat on the doorframe to brace
myself as I step out of my clothes.
Looking down I see Mabry tear the packet, slip the condom out, and on to
me, all the while looking up at me through her long dark lashes. She seems to
enjoy doing this and who am I to deprive her of any joy.
She starts slowly sucking and
licking her way up my abs and over my chest until she reaches my mouth. Our
tongues make another once around in each other’s mouths before my hands shift
behind her thighs, lifting her while pressing her against the door at the same
time. I can feel the heel of her stilettos pierce my skin as her legs wrap
around my waist. The slight jolt of pain turns me on even more than I already am.
Her hands find their way into my hair and she holds on tight. Two hard thrusts
and I’m buried deep inside her. Everything begins to speed up and intensify,
our breathing, my thrusts, and her moans.
She tightens around me in every way and we come together. We both shiver and cling onto each other like
our lives depend on it.
Still inside her, I carry her to my
bedroom and lay her back on the bed. I
begin placing soft kisses across her lips, down her jaw, and to the top of her tits.
“How is it possible?” I mutter as I
continue kissing everywhere my lips can reach.
“What are you talking about?” she
asks as her fingers run through my hair playing with the chunky style.
Looking up at her I say, “How is it
possible that it gets better every time? It was pretty awesome the first time.”
Tugging on my hair, she pulls me up
so we are face-to-face. “I’m trying to up my game. I think you just like my
choice of undergarments more and more.”
“You do have excellent taste in that
department. I like what’s under those garments too, and what comes out of your
mouth, and what’s behind those eyes.”
Now is the time to tell Mabry how
much I love her. I haven’t looked at, thought about, or wanted to be with another
girl since we met. Clearing my throat, I look deep into her eyes and say, “Mabry,
the past few months with you have been fantastic. Spending time with you is my
favorite part of the day. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing. All that matters
is I can look up and see you by my side.”
“Brad…”
“Mabry, I’ve fallen in…”
“I need to get up,” she interrupts
as she shoves on my chest.
“What? Is anything wrong?” I ask
pushing off and out of her.
Sitting up, she moves away from me
and off the bed quickly. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she says as she walks
across the room, never looking back at me.
I watch as the door closes. I get up
and remove the condom, tossing it in the trashcan. I grab a pair of pajama
pants and slip them on. The door to the bathroom suddenly swings open and Mabry
comes rushing out wrapped in a towel.
Scanning the room she asks, “Where
are my clothes?”
“Excuse me?” I stand in shock with
my hands resting on my hips.
“I need my clothes. I didn’t pay
attention to where they ended up.”
“Why do you need your clothes?”
“Because, the authorities don’t look
kindly on public nudity.” She gives me a slight smirk that disappears in a
nanosecond.
“You’re leaving?” My shock is
starting to wear off and I’m getting angry.
“I have an early day tomorrow.
Besides, you know the rules. No overnighters.”
“What the fuck just happened here?”
“We had a delicious dinner, an
amazing fuck, as usual, and now I have to go,” she says walking out of the
bedroom in search of her clothes.
I find her in the living room
shimmying into her dress. I can feel my entire body tense up as I stand there
with my arms crossed over my chest staring at her. “I want to tell you something.”
She runs her fingers through her
hair. “Yeah, well, can’t it wait until morning?”
“It’s not business related.”
She stops the nervous gathering of
her things. Looking me in the eye she says, “Don’t get all hearts and flowers
on me, Brad. You knew what this was when we started.”
“Yeah, I knew what it was when we
started, but somewhere along the way things changed. I love you, Mabry.”
Azure blue eyes begin to fill with
water, fear, and anger as she steps back. “Fuck you.” Grabbing her purse, she
turns on her heels, and is out the door.
****
Mabry
I
keep moving. I don’t think or breathe until I’m safe and secure in my car. I
take several slow deep breaths trying to get control of my anxiety before it
swallows me up. I still feel on the verge of hyperventilating. Thank god Brad
didn't follow me. I fight to keep the picture out of my head of him standing
there looking vulnerable and sad. My throat starts to sting and my eyes burn as
I try to hold back my tears. I can’t lose it, not here. I start the car and
head home.
Things were going so well with us.
Why did he have to ruin it? The main reason I finally agreed to go out with him
was because I knew he had a reputation for being a player and he wouldn’t be
looking for anything serious or permanent, which was exactly what I wanted and
needed. I couldn’t have anything serious, not with Brad or anyone. He was supposed to be safe and uncomplicated.
What was he thinking telling me that?
Walking into my condo I’m a bundle
of nerves. I was able to calm myself somewhat on the drive home because I had
to focus on the road, but now it was too easy for the thoughts to creep in. I
have to do something to get my mind off Brad and what he said to me. Passing
through the bedroom I kick my shoes off, toss my purse on the bed, and then
make my way to the bathroom. I turn the shower on full blast letting the hot
water steam up the place while I undress. I focus on every little movement I
make, trying to keep my mind occupied. I can’t let the thoughts in. Once they
were in I wouldn’t be able to control myself. It would be too hard to make them
disappear without taking drastic measures and I’m trying not to do that.
I step into the shower and
immediately flinch when the scalding hot water begins to pelt my skin, but I
don’t move away from it. I focus on how the hot beads prick my flesh. It hurts
for only a few seconds before my skin gets use to the temperature. I scrub my
skin a little more forcefully than usual and do the same with my hair. The roughness
helps keep my mind focused. I step out of the shower, dry myself and my hair,
and put on a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants, before crawling into bed. I decide
to watch some TV to help distract. I need to stay focused on physical things to
keep from disappearing back into my thoughts. I’m reaching for the remote when
my phone chirps with a text.
I try to ignore it, pretend I didn’t
hear it, but then it chirps again. I know it’s him. I turn the TV on and try to
put the text out of my head. I flip through channel after channel desperately
trying to find something to take my mind off the damn text that I know is waiting
on my phone. I play this game for at least fifteen minutes before I cave. I
grab my phone with shaky hands and swipe the screen.
Brad:
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. Please let me know that you’re home
safe.
I stare at the words for a few
minutes. Pictures of his sad eyes flood my mind. I toss the phone as if it was on
fire onto the bedside table. I try to forget the text. I try to forget the
words he said. I try to forget his hurt. I try so hard, but I can’t keep the
images and feelings away. I have to do something to stop them from consuming
me. I run both hands through my still damp hair. I hesitate. I didn’t want to
do this, but I know it’s the only thing that will help me right now. I wasn’t
prepared for what he said to me tonight. Hesitantly, I scoot down until the
back of my head is in line with the edge of the headboard. My body
automatically goes into the ritual of preparing itself for the impact-eyes
close, fists clench, heels dig in, all muscles tense. I perform three rapid
slams to the back of my head. Relief immediately washes over my body, my mind
becomes clear, and my feelings numb.
******************
Add Past Imperfect to your TBR List
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)