“Let’s go for a walk.” He steps away from me over to the door.
I center myself, attempting to shake off my convoluted anger mixed with the absolute determination to seduce Trevor tonight.
It’s time.
It’s about fucking time. Plus, it will show that Lukas! I don’t need him! I seriously don’t! I want him to feel my nails as they dig into another man’s back as he fucks me!
Take that, Lukas Fucking Thorn!
Chapter 2
The sun is down. The night is thick but comfortable. The clouds have moved on temporarily. Tourists flock around Collins Ave.
As we walk, I link my arm through Trevor’s. His biceps are thick. I squeeze a little. He doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t push me away, so that’s a start. A devious and dirty plan comes to life within me.
“Where are we going?” I say in my best little girl voice, jumping up and down with a big squeaky smile without letting go of his arm.
Trevor glares down at me with a confident look worthy of a movie star. “Dinner. I’m hungry.”
I jump up and down. “Please, pretty please, can we get a hamburger? Please, please, please!”
I know this is going to get to him. Trevor hates extravagances. “God, what is wrong with you, seriously?”
“And I don’t want to eat out. I want to bring it back to the Redmond Apts.”
He shoots me another evil look, then says “Come here.” I scream as he locks me in a wrestling neck hold and scratches the top of my head. I play-scream and then he pushes me away from him, walking ahead of me.
I run to catch up with him and impale myself on his arm again. I skip as we go, giggling and laughing some more. Just like I used to do when the ice cream truck would drive through the neighborhood, and I’d beg him to buy me a Fudgsicle.
“Oh, look,” I say, “what a perfect name for a liquor store!” The sign reads I <3 Liquor. “Can we go in, please? Can we, please? Can we, please? Huh?”
“You know, I know exactly what you’re doing, and it isn’t going to work.”
“Yuh-huh!”
“Nuh-uh!”
I break from him and run into the liquor store. I grab a bottle of his favorite Jameson, some club soda, and a bottle of Pinot Grigio for me. By the time he arrives inside, I’m already in line. He falls in beside me, shaking his head. I giggle and blow him a kiss.
There is a girl ahead of us wearing jeans that barely cover her ass. I can’t help but stare. She’s a little big but nice and round.
Trevor notices, looking down at me. “You’re funny,” he says.
“How am I funny?”
His eyes gaze into mine with that look that launches my longings again. “Just funny.”
“Can I help you?” says the gorgeous black girl behind the counter. I can’t help but stare at her stunning eyes and luscious pierced lips. Yeah, I’m fully activated. I want to throw myself at those lips right now and flick that piercing with my tongue.
Trevor takes the bottles from me and places them on the counter. This time I let him pay, with another giggle.
Once we’re back out on Collins Ave, I link up with his left arm and say, “I know what you want.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” I drag him left at Lincoln Road, past the creepy guys who hang around the bus stop.
“Shut up, Smudge. Don’t go there.”
“I know what you want,” I sing in an up-and-down musical tone.
“It’s not going to work,” he says.
“What’s not going to work?”
“Whatever you’re doing. I know you. You want what you want. You always get your way, being the youngest and all. It works with your dad, but it will never work with me.”
I stop in front of the TD Bank at Washington and face him, pressing my breasts up into him. “What won’t work?”
“Convincing me to go to some fancy restaurant. They’re all way to pricey around here, and most of them suck.”
I squint while looking at him and point behind me. He smiles. “You’re not serious.”
“Why did I drag you one block? Think, Trevor, think!”
I watch his eyes as they fixate on a spot behind me. “I can see why.”
I giggle, turn, and run against the Don’t Walk sign across Washington and into Trevor’s favorite restaurant of all time.
Just as he arrives behind me, I say to the cashier, “Three hamburgers, two Filet O’ Fishes, a large fries, and a small fries. To go.”
I swipe my debit card again. Thanks, Zander. I’ll pay you back, I swear, I promise.
“You know you’re fucking ridiculous, don’t you?” says Trevor when we’re back out on the street, McDonald’s bag in hand, crossing over to James Ave and back to the Redmond Apts.
I lean up into his ear. “Yeah, well guess what?”
“What?”
“I think you like fucking ridiculous.”
Chapter 3
We’re on the couch watching TV, stuffed with fast food, and somewhat drunk. Or at least I am.
The talking heads babble endlessly about Donald Trump, who is apparently the only subject allowed on television tonight. I don’t pay much attention to politics, even though I have a sense of where I stand.
“That’s a funny sign over the door,” I say.
“What sign?” says Trevor.
“Redmond Apts. Not apartments. Just apts. That’s what I’m going to call it. The Redmond Apts.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I resemble that remark.” I fall into a fit of giggles.
“Hey, this place is semi-famous. It was in an episode of Miami Vice.”
“No way.”
“Yeah, Crockett and Tubbs came through that door and yelled, ‘Freeze!’”
“Didn’t they do that in every episode?”
“Yeah, but once right here.”
“And you know this how?”
“I was here, watching them shoot it. I stood off to the side out front. Back in those days, there was no courtyard or hedge. They widened the sidewalk, so back then this window behind us was right on the street.”
“You’re boring, you know. A boring old man.”
He puts me in another headlock and scratches my head while I play-scream. When he’s done, I use it as an opportunity to snuggle closer to him on the couch. He doesn’t move away from me, which tells me my plan is working.
We watch the talking heads blather about Donald Trump some more.
“I hate his toupee,” I say.
“It’s not a toupee,” says Trevor, play-hitting me.
“Yes, it is! Look at that… thing.”
“There was an episode of The Apprentice where he was standing in a windstorm at a construction site. No toupee would have ever survived this wind. You’re delusional.”
“Oh yeah? Well, you’re a moron!”
“Oh yeah? Well, Smudge, you’re a whiny brat!”
I squint my eyes and do my best Robert DeNiro. “You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me?” Trevor laughs and falls off the couch. “So much for your ability to handle Jameson, tough guy.”
“Shut the fuck up, Tweedle-Ditz.”
“Oh no! No, no, no! You promised never to call me that again! For that, you get punished!” I leap onto the floor and attack Trevor, throwing slaps and punches this way and that. “Tickle fight!”
It’s all a bunch of fantastic laughs until . . . oh my God . . . until . . . he pulls me onto his face and kisses me.
This time he means it.
Yes! Success!
He claws at me as I spread my legs across his thick muscular torso. I expertly undo his shirt and get my hands all over his hard naked chest and down to his abs.
Oh God, they’re solid!
A new wave of ravenous yearning sweeps over me. I press my crotch downward over his thickness while licking his neck and drawing a line down to the tattoos I know so well.