Drunk In Love: The Complete Series: BBW BDSM Erotica (2 page)

Leaning up from the table, I went for it, pressing my lips against Brent. Scared and excited, I did it, closing my eyes, not wanting to see his reaction.

I felt his lips press back, and then... nothing. He pulled away, still with my leg in his hand but far enough away that our lips could no longer touch.

“What the hell, Samantha? What was that?”

I couldn’t read his face to see whether he was disgusted or not.

“Sorry. I read you wrong... I’m just...” The words wouldn’t form together. I wasn’t sure how to explain, and I wanted to cry and evaporate away.

As I tried to find the words, his lips met mine again, pressing hard this time with him dropping my leg and bending down on the massage table with me.

The musk of his post-workout body filled my nostrils, intoxicating me with his scent. His hands were everywhere. I wanted to pull his clothes off, but I wasn’t sure what to touch first. His arms were hard as rocks, but tender like a cushion. I wanted to hold him, but was this real, or maybe I was in a dream.

I opened my eyes to make sure this was happening. Sure enough, with his eyes closed, Brent was on top of me.

I slammed my eyes shut, moans escaping me as his tongue played with mine. My body felt like a furnace as his hands slid up under my shirt.

This was happening. It was really happening.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he let the revelation slip from between his lips.

Shit, are you serious?!
I wanted to scream at him. All this time, all the cues that I saw were true. For once in my life, I was right about something, and this time it was a piece of male perfection that was steaming hot.

“Brent... I want you too.” I grabbed for him, pulling him close. I’d become bold now that I knew that he also wanted me.

Brent lifted my tank top away from my body as we panted against each other’s skin. I was pulling at his shirt when we both heard something beating against the locked glass door.

The sounds came in soft taps at first, followed by what sounded like fists at the door. Hard, frantic knocks on the door that interrupted us. Knocks that we couldn’t ignore.

*****

“S
hit,” Brent said. “It’s probably my boss.”

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I scrambled to find my shirt, grabbing it and running towards a machine as Brent wiped off his face and headed for the door.

Pulling my shirt over my head, I started to hit random buttons as I began pumping my legs as fast as they could go, adrenaline causing me to move fast at a feverish pace that I had never done before. I felt like our parents were at the door, and we were teenagers that were caught fooling around.

I listened, waiting for someone to come in. Hopefully they would leave quickly, but my ears perked when I heard a woman’s voice.

“Brent, babe, when are you getting off?” some female voice whined.

“Uh, I’m going to be a little while,” I hoped it would be longer than a little. But wait... was this his girlfriend or something?

“But babe, you said that we were going to be together tonight!”

Shit. She
was
his girlfriend. Now I felt like throwing up.

“I know, babe, but I’m just finishing up. I’ll call you when I’m done.” He must have been trying to get rid of her, but I couldn’t be another man’s second choice.

Dammit! I’d messed up. I never even thought about the possibility that Brent could have a girlfriend. Of course he had someone—he was gorgeous; way too gorgeous for me.

My legs felt like paperweights, now decreasing in speed with every thought of the flaws in my stupid plan.

“Why don’t you hurry up and train these fat bitches so we can go?” she tried to whisper, but I heard loud and clear as if she’d yelled it through a bull horn.

I needed to leave. I jumped off the machine, my legs feeling like Jell-O, my pussy wetter than the ocean, and my self-esteem even more deflated than when I’d arrived.

This wasn’t the best guy to execute my Trevor-provoked revenge on. I would only be hurting myself if I stayed here and fucked Brent. I would probably be better served going to a bar and drinking until I couldn’t see, then hoping someone called me a cab. The reason that Trevor loved liquor so much was becoming more evident to me every day. At least bottles didn’t talk—or have girlfriends.

As I came out from behind the wall, I saw the offender that was talking about us “fat bitches.” She was a twig, to say the least.

“Oh, Sam. I’ll be back in a moment. You can start on the treadmill now,” Brent’s eyes were wide as if he were begging me not to say anything.

The twig looked me up and down like I was a homeless person begging for food. I tried not to look at her too long.

“No, I have an emergency. I need to leave,” I lied, but it was better than telling him that I felt like a complete idiot. Brent and his twig made me feel smaller than an ant, and that was damn near impossible.

Brent grabbed my arm, and an hour ago, the first thing I wanted was for him touch me. Now I felt sick thinking about how stupid I had been. I had been about to sleep with my trainer, and I had Trevor at home. Hell, I wasn’t even absolutely sure that he was cheating on me.

Pulling away from his grasp, I walked away from the negative energy. Brent and his twig could go straight to hell.

Opting for the stairs again, I took them two at a time, jumping down until I was at the bottom floor. Shaking, I tried to make a decision: should I go home, or should I hit the bar and get a drink?

Drowning my sorrows always worked best. I headed to the left, down the street. I knew there was some bar I could hit before calling a cab home. No one was there waiting for me anyway. What was the rush to lay in a cold bed, all alone?

*****

T
he cute guy sitting at the bar was hearing all of my night’s stupidity. The beer went down easy and made it effortless to spill my guts about the night’s events.

I’d made a new friend at the bar. I just so happened to sit next to him and started talking. I thought he would be shocked, but the guy didn’t bat an eye at my story.

“So you tried to fuck your trainer, and it turns out that he has a girlfriend?” I didn’t know his name. He had just seemed friendly when I came into the bar, and telling him this stupid story was better than crying.

“Yep, I think that about sums it up,” I told him, swallowing the shot with one gulp.

“When?” he asked, staring me down with his coal black eyes.

Actually, this started from the first time I’d met Brent. Months of flirting had now materialized into something. I had finally made the move, but it had turned out to be the wrong one.

“Tonight. Right before I came here.”

It was as if he was making the connection between my outfit, the same fitness attire, and the story timeline.

“Oh... I get it.” He looked down the bar to see if anyone heard our exchange, but the music and conversations around us drowned out our words. “We could leave together and I could take his place. But only on one condition,” I nodded, playing along with what had to be a joke. “We do it the way I want.”

I may have been drinking, but my thought process wasn’t that far gone. I thought for a moment about what that could mean. There was only one way to “do it,” right?

I was down for anything that could make me feel better, so I replied: “If you can handle me, we can do it whichever way you like.”

I swallowed the shot he bought for me, touching his thigh in a playful manner. This wasn’t going anywhere beyond this bar, so why not flirt until my heart was content?

“Okay then.” He winked, licking his lips at me.

Sober, I wouldn’t have been able to have this conversation, but when I drank, I became another person. Tonight, I didn’t need to be Samantha. She always got hurt and ended up crying. Drunk, I could be a bold vixen, even if it wasn’t true. I winked back at the nameless guy as he turned to pay the bartender for his tab.

Ten minutes ago, the ringing of a bell had signaled it was last call and almost time for the bar to close. In front of me was still a shot of tequila and a beer. I planned to finish both before I stumbled out of the bar.

Harmless flirting before I went home by myself wasn’t a bad thing. I had never seen this guy before, but he was cute. He was about six foot, wearing a baseball cap and hiding his hair from me. A thin guy, but he had more muscles than Brent. Still, at this point, I didn’t want to talk to anyone like Brent. He seemed nicer than Brent too, but hell, everyone was nice when you were drunk.

He was cute, at least cute enough with alcohol running through my veins and under the dim lights of the bar. Maybe he would look better in the light, or worse, but I would never see that. I had no intention of running into this guy again.

“I wish you were the guy I was trying to seduce. You would have gotten lucky tonight.”

He laughed as I drank from the half-full glass of beer.

“Let’s just pretend. At least I can pretend to have a lady like you.”

I felt my cheeks get hot. His words seemed genuine; his eyes seemed to sparkle with the truth and he was far more sober than I was. But I didn’t know this guy. How could I trust him?

“Okay, I can do that,” I smiled at him. It was fun playing this game that would go nowhere. “What’s your name?”

“Kyle.”

I liked that name. He shook my hand, sending heat radiating through my palm.

“Nice to meet you. Everyone calls me Sam.” I actually gave him a real name—well, my nickname.

It didn’t matter. I would probably never see him again anyway. Bars changed, and people came and went. It wasn’t like this was Cheers or something; everyone didn’t know my name here.

“Likewise. Now, back to business. What about your boyfriend?”

He had to bring him up. I glanced around the bar, watching everyone leave, buying time to clear the tears from my eyes before Kyle saw.

“Don’t worry about him. That’s my problem,” I said, shooting him that same smile that I practiced for Brent—the one with a touch of seduction that was supposed to reel him in.

I swallowed my shot, first using the training wheels to ease the pain of the liquid, then licking the back of my hand, dousing it in salt, throwing back the tequila, and sucking on a lime for relief. It burned my chest as it went down, and I remembered back when I couldn’t stand this clear liquid.

“Wow, you are one hell of a lady. You’re not driving are you?” He looked down on the bar for car keys to snatch for my safety.

“Nope.” My speech was already slurred. I was officially drunk. “Call me a cab. I’m ready to go home,” I said as I pounded my fist on the bar.

“I’ll do that.” Kyle seemed nice enough. He stood up, putting on his jacket and helping me with mine. I followed him towards the door.

Outside, the cool air forced me to sober up. That made me start thinking about my safety. Being a female and falling down drunk was not a good idea.

On his cell phone, I heard Kyle ordering a cab. While he asked me my address to give to the cab company, my eyes wandered, checking my surroundings. I was about to rattle off my street when a mirage seemed to appear in front of me.

Trevor was walking down the sidewalk towards me. He was smiling, giggling as he walked. Some woman was at his side, her arm intertwined with his, wearing a similar smile with their faces way too close.

“Sam... What street did you say?”

“Wesleyan Avenue, near the University,” I told him, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes. Maybe my tequila was laced, or there was some hallucination-inducing drug in my beer.

Trevor and the woman seemed to get closer. Walking slowly and laughing in their own little world, the pair didn’t even look up in my direction.

“Sam, are you okay?” Kyle asked, but I couldn’t answer. “Are you ready?”

Kyle had his hands on my shoulders. The spark and heat of his hands moved through my body. I wasn’t sure if it was the tequila or what I was watching, but my skin felt like it was on fire.

My heart stopped beating. Trevor had just stopped walking and kissed the woman that was dangling on his arm. She kissed him back, and a few feet in front of me my boyfriend—or his clone, or some alcohol induced duplicate—was kissing another woman in front of me.

“
Trevor!
” I screamed, hoping that the two people would disappear and I could go back to my previous drunk state. Instead, Trevor turned to me, still with the woman’s saliva on his lips, first squinting at me, then widening his eyes in horror.

“Sam... Uh...” He didn’t know what to say, and neither did I. My legs moved involuntarily towards him. My fists seemed to work under their own power, pummeling punches and slaps down on Trevor.

I felt like I was in a dream as someone from behind me pulled me off of Trevor.

“Come on, Sam, it isn’t worth it.” Kyle’s calm voice danced in my ear, but I couldn’t stop yelling. Trevor scrambled away from me, holding his face as the petite woman he was with glared at me, trying to pull Trevor away.

I cursed at her, at the both of them. I wanted to jump from Kyle’s arms and beat the hell out of the happy couple.

Before I could think, I was being pushed inside of a cab. Kyle rambled off some words, and we were off. Looking at Trevor through the window, he disappeared as we rounded a corner leaving him and his “friend” in our wake.

“Shit, Sam... You went crazy on that guy.” Kyle laughed, but for me, it wasn’t a joke. My heart had bungee jumped from my chest and crashed on the pavement. I started crying, tears streaming down my face. My feelings were truly hurt.

“That was your boyfriend, wasn’t it?” he asked, now pulling me close to him and trying to hug my tears away. I nodded as I sobbed hysterically into his jacket.

“Where are we going?” The cab driver cut into my crying, not caring that I was in the middle of a life crisis.

“Uh, hold on a sec,” Kyle said, grabbing some kind of napkin from his pocket and giving it to me, “What’s your address again?”

“I don’t want to go to my place. Take me home with you.” I blurted it out so quick I barely heard my own words. I wiped my nose and face.