My intention was to wait until the closing and ask her if she wanted to go to dinner, but I don't make it that long. I went home after Elsie left my office and stared at the walls, listened to the silence, and thought about how much I had enjoyed my night with Claire in the elevator, how much I wanted to repeat it-not just the sex, but the company. The lure of her mint green eyes, her infectious laugh, the glow of her skin, Jesus, I'm in way over my head.She had mentioned that night she worked late hours for her father; I hope tonight is one of those nights, because I would much rather show up at her office than on her doorstep, like some stray dog.When I pull up in front of Weston Wealth Management, I see an entire floor of lights still on and pray it's her. I push the button on the intercom at the door and wait for a reply. When I don't get one, I push the button again, holding it longer this time. When I release it, the speaker cracks at me, then the cold voice. "Yes?""Prin
Brilliant, Shelby, just fucking brilliant. You pissed around waiting on Jack so he could bail on you like he always does. One of these days, you're going to get it through your head he's no good for you. As usual, you make plans based on what he tells you he's going to do, and lo and behold, at the last minute he doesn't follow through. And suddenly, you're asking yourself why the hell you've wasted two years on this douchebag.The dialogue continues in my head as I try to gather as much as I can from my apartment and load it into my car. My mind becomes more confused as the unanswered questions plague my thoughts. Having no idea how long I'll be gone makes it difficult to know what to pack. I do know I'm running out of time if the news channels are correct about when the storm will hit.The Governor of South Carolina ordered a mandatory evacuation of Charleston yesterday, and the hurricane is getting closer and closer. Each advisory shows the strength of the storm building and
You have got to be fucking kidding me. About thirty miles outside of Mount Pleasant, we slow to a snail's pace. It takes two hours to go another seven miles. Five hours later, total gridlock.Somewhere between Monk's Corner and Orangeburg, I'm stuck on a desolate stretch of highway with a million other people trying to escape the storm. Unfortunately, the roads weren't designed to handle this kind of volume, and the Governor was too stupid to allow evacuees to drive on the opposite side of the highway coming out of the coastal towns.People have run out of gas, which has caused even bigger problems as they abandon their cars on the road. They're out of their cars talking to other travelers around them, throwing footballs, playing Frisbee and hacky sack; the Charleston hippies are out in full force.The rain has let up, and passengers sit on the hoods of their cars having picnics and sharing food with strangers. It's like they're out for a Sunday drive and not trying to avoid the
Settling in my driver's seat, I make sure Mr. Kitty is comfortable next to me. When I start the car, I realize I'm sitting dangerously close to empty. The likelihood I will make it to the next exit before running out of gas is slim to none, but I pray like hell the gods are smiling on me; being stuck out here would be a nightmare. There's no one I can call, and they couldn't get to me even if there were.Traffic is moving, but it's incredibly slow. I don't think I've broken ten miles an hour in the last fifteen minutes. The one bad thing about my car is there's no gaslight, so I have to calculate the miles I can go on a tank of gas. That's fairly easy to do when you're driving on the highway or in town, but not so much when you sit idling for hours on end. When the needle is touching the E, I know I'm in desperate need of a gas station, and thus far, there's no exit in sight.Seventeen minutes later, as the car starts to sputter, I pull over on the side of the road and coast as she
It's a modest house from what I can see in the dark. I glance at the clock, noticing it's almost midnight. An everyday ranch style home sits in front of us. Nothing special from the outside, but the yard looks like it's well cared for, and there's two rocking chairs on the front porch. The neighborhood looks like any other middle-class American community would.As I continue to take in my surroundings, Mason comes around to my side of the SUV, opening my door to help me out. Escorting me inside, he tells me to make myself at home while he goes to get our stuff from the car.I've never understood what people really mean when they say make yourself at home, so I kick off my shoes and stand awkwardly in the foyer while waiting for his return.The door opens and his smile warms me from head to toe. He has Mr. Kitty under one arm and our bags in the other."Baby, you look lost."As I shrug my shoulders, he motions for me to follow him down the hall. In what appears to be a guest r
He stops. "I don't want to hurt you." There's something similar to fear in his eyes."I want you to." I smile in an attempt to show him I'm not afraid of him."I haven't been with anyone in a long time. I like things really rough. If I don't keep it slow, you could end up with bruises from the neck down.""I'm willing to take that chance."Pushing up, he tries to pull away. "I'm not."Grabbing his arms, I plead with him, "Mason, look." I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling. He mistakes my hesitation for indecision. "Listen, please. I've never attempted to put this into words, and honestly, I've never trusted anyone enough to try-so bear with me."Nodding, he lowers his body back to mine, and I notice he gently moves inside me, likely in an attempt to stay hard. I take a deep breath to clear the confusion clouding my mind.Ensuring I maintain eye contact so he can see the truth in my eyes, I start my stream of consciousness. "I'm wired differently than most p
Rolling off me in a not so graceful fashion, he lands on the floor next to the bed. I can't help but laugh at him. Physically speaking, he is perfection. Clumsy would not have been an adjective I would have used to describe him.Peeking over the edge, expecting to see his bruised ego, he catches my hand and pulls me down with him in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. His grin radiates, causing the appearance of a dimple in his left cheek I haven't noticed before.Cradling my fall with his arms, he tucks me into his side, essentially pinning me between him and the floor as his other arm comes around, finding my ribs vulnerable. I can't protect them quickly enough, and he's on them, tickling the shit out of me. Writhing under him in an attempt to escape this ridiculous torture, the hysterical laughter turns to tears, as I can't catch my breath."Mason..." I plead for him to stop, but it's muffled at best. "Please. I'm going to pee on you."The fits of heavy breathing and inability
The sound of the phone ringing startles me. Waking up in a strange place, staring at unfamiliar walls, it takes me a minute to realize where I am, and more importantly, who is lying next to me. It dawns on me it's not my phone ringing.As I nudge Mason, he opens those gorgeous, brown eyes, and I have to admit, I love being the first thing he sees. It doesn't take him any time to realize where he is, and he instantly focuses on my face, rewarding me with a grin."Your phone keeps ringing." It stops as I finish my sentence.He raises his eyebrows at me, like somehow I wasn't being honest or I was the one calling his phone. When it starts again, I raise my brows in return, and he busts out laughing as he rolls off the bed.Digging his phone out of his pocket, he answers on the fourth ring. "What's up, B?" I'm assuming that's Brian on the other end. After a series of yeahs, uh huhs, and one final all right, he says later and hangs up the phone.Turning to me, he gives me the gist