Nerd Girl (9 page)

“I didn’t say I was going to the party with Derrick and, if I did go, I’m perfectly capable of finding my own dress. So, thanks, but I don’t need Libby’s or your help.”

“Do you have any idea of the importance of this event for Derrick’s career?” Lifting my chin, I stare her down. She’s not going to intimidate me. Bring it on sister. I only look sweet and innocent. Ben and GG Jenkins didn’t raise a wishy washy girl. “If you’re going to be on his arm for the evening, you have to look sensual and sophisticated, not embarrass the poor guy. My services usually come with a hefty cost but because it’s Derrick, I’ll assist you free of charge.” Continuing to make her call, Mitzi books me an appointment with Libby at some French sounding boutique. At least I think its French she’s speaking. I only took two years of French class in high school, so the most I understand is the basic greeting or how to ask where the bathroom is. Fluently speaking into the phone, I have no idea what she’s telling the girl on the other end. Probably to find the most hideous looking dress on the discount rack. Ending her call, Mitzi’s focus is now back on Derrick.

“Well then, since today is your day off, I assume you have plans?” Fishing for information Mitzi? The look on her face is blank, but her eyes flash outrage. She’s not happy with the current situation. Oh, well!

“I was going to take Amy home so she can freshen up and then I thought we’d go to the aquarium for the day,” Derrick tells her, his eyes on mine. I nod my head yes, but he has not escaped my wrath. Next time he needs to do a better job of wrangling her in. I won’t put up with her crap. Supposedly he needs her, but I don’t. Clicking her way across the floor in a pair of fuck me red pumps, she places a lingering kiss on Derrick’s cheek and flashes me a devious smirk over his shoulder. Yeah, Mitzi, I get your meaning. Right now, he’s mine though.

“Alright, darling, enjoy your day I’ll call you tomorrow when you’re not otherwise engaged.” Turning on her heels and grabbing her purse, she makes her way to the door.

“Hey, Mitz?” Riven says stopping her in her tracks.

“What do you want?” She barks at him.

“I was just wondering if the color of your shoes and the color of your lipstick are supposed to match the color of your teeth.” Riven scrunches up his lips, pointing to his teeth. “Red is a good color for you, but you might want to do a last minute check of these things before you leave the house.” Leaning in, I take a closer look and, sure enough, Riven’s right. Her teeth are dyed red from her lipstick. I have to bite back my smile. Riven just goes ahead and laughs in her face and Derrick has his hand over his mouth trying to hide his smile. Gnashing her red tinged teeth and then covering her mouth with her hand, Mitzi snarls at Riven and stomps out the door. Queue the laughter. It takes a good couple minutes of belly laughing to calm us down enough for speech. Riven looks incredibly proud of himself for getting one over on Mitzi. I must say, I appreciate it.

“Way to piss her off, Riv.”

“Oh come on, Derrick, she backhandedly offended Miss Kitty and you stood there with your thumb up your ass.” Thank you, Riven. Derrick looks at me nervously.

“I’m sorry, baby, I know she’s a bitch. She’s one hell of an agent, though. That was actually her being nice.” Nice? Oh yeah, well I’d hate to see her in a rage. Derrick walks over, wrapping me in his arms and kissing the top of my head. “She has an eye for fashion and Libby is a fabulous dresser. Please consider keeping the appointment and putting up with Mitzi for the few hours it’s going to take to get you a knock out dress. I’d love to have you on my arm that night, my good luck charm.” Psht, good luck charm? Yeah, right. More like Messy Marvin does the launch party. Guess I have to practice walking in heels and get Layla to do my hair and makeup. A month should be long enough to get some practice in, so I don’t embarrass Derrick by breaking an ankle in high heels. It would appear Mitzi is taking care of my wardrobe. Hopefully, this fairy tale with Derrick continues long enough for me to make it to the party. I just don’t understand why Cinderella got a Fairy Godmother, Sleeping Beauty had three, and I get stuck with the Wicked Witch of the West. Karma, you rotten bitch, this better make us even.

***Derrick***

The next few weeks pass in a blur. There’s so much going on in my life at the moment, I’m surprised I can see straight. Between my work schedule at the gym, phone conferences about Fitnexx and Mitzi booking me a photo shoot for a new book cover, I’m getting worn out. The launch party planning is almost complete and I’m trying to fit time in to see Amy. I make the time to see her even if it’s just for a little while. I just enjoy being around her and she makes me laugh. It doesn’t hurt matters any that she is incredibly sexy in the most unassuming way. She alternates wearing her contacts or glasses depending on her mood. I prefer the sexy librarian with the glasses. Her eyes light on fire when I touch her; her body craves my touch and I can’t seem to get enough. She’s stayed at my place a few times since that first night. We’ve explored each other’s bodies more but have yet to have sex. If she were any other girl, I would have sealed that deal by the second date. Amy is different. The feelings I have for her scare me a little. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone in my life that matters. I just hope I don’t fuck things up.

Our second sleep over, or rather, night of passion, was the following Friday. I had just finished up a late personal training session with Mr. Simms. Those thin mints didn’t do him any favors; packed on all the weight he lost. I worked him hard that night. So hard, the poor guy threw up. Hey, no pain no gain. Amy and Layla were just finishing up their pole class; damn shame I missed that. Amy’s getting good on the pole and her flying cupid is pretty damn hot. When she thinks no one is looking, she struts a little more, shaking her glorious ass and sticking out those delicious breasts. She makes my mouth water. She’s reluctantly agreed to wear the appropriate attire but is still self-conscious about showing so much skin. We had our first fight over her wearing the spandex shorts and top. Her argument was that she felt uncomfortable wearing such skimpy clothes. My argument was that she looked frumpy in the nylon shorts and t-shirt she insisted on wearing. I also reminded her of what happened the last time she didn’t wear the proper attire. She called me an asshole I called her a brat and we ended up making out. All’s fair in love and war. Just being reminded of those kitty cat panties got me all stirred up. I’m talking ripped shorts, clawed backs and bite marks left behind kind of making out. She had no choice but to wear the spandex then.

She came back home with me later on and we took a nice long bath together. The bubbles made her body all slick and glossy. I got her off by caressing her breasts and tweaking her nipples with one hand and fingering her pussy with the other. She’s so incredibly tight, I just knew she was going to strangle my dick once I finally did get inside her. She rode my fingers hard and fast while grinding her ass down on to my stiff cock behind her. Gripping the edge of the tub and reclining on my chest I tipped her chin up and twisted her face around so that I could devour her lips. Her mouth dropped open from the ecstasy I gave her and she panted into my mouth. Licking the shape of Amy’s lips and whispering words of encouragement got her even more excited. Once her orgasm hit, she trembled in my arms while the inner muscles of her core clenched around my fingers, coating them with her juices. I’d keep her in bed for a week if I could. I love nothing more than watching and making her cum.

Amy believes in being fair in all things and my insistent cock poking her in the back had her concerned. I told her not to worry about it, but that hard on wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. With a determined look, she pulled the plug on the tub to drain enough water so that my dick crested the surface. Gaining her knees, she stroked me with tentative hands. Hey, if she wants to take care of my big, hard problem, I’m all for it. Her wet hair was covering her face as she leant over and took me in her mouth. Bunching her hair up in a tail with my fist, I watched her giving me the best head of my life. For a first timer, she was fantastic! Her novice tongue licked me from balls to slit, like she was licking her favorite flavor lollipop. Swirling her tongue on top she sucked off the pre-cum collected there. She started to get really into it and sucked me in deep with intense, hard pulls. I arched my back giving her more access and spread my legs as wide as the tub would allow. I was just about ready to explode when she cupped my balls in her hand and rotated them around.

“Baby, if you don’t stop now, I’m going to cum in your mouth.” Glancing up and giving me a cheeky smile, she took me in deep again, silently telling me it was okay. No sooner did my dick hit the back of her throat, I went off in her mouth. My dick cumming in spurts down her throat. Like the angel she is, she drained me dry. It’s only a matter of time before I’ll finally get the chance to make love to her with something other than my mouth and fingers. I want that time to be special for her. Since Chad didn’t do it right the first time, it’s now up to me.

I’ve also given her three more beads to add to her bracelet. She received a red bead that represented passion after our first night together. A yellow bead because she makes me happy and a silver bead for patience, because I know I’ll eventually screw things up or say something stupid and she needs to be patient with me. With each new bead I gift her, I can feel our bond growing stronger.

It’s now about ten days until the Fitnexx launch party. Amy is scheduled to go dress shopping with Mitzi today. Luckily, I’m the guest of honor and can invite whoever I want. Riven, as always, is going as my wingman and he’s bringing Layla. At least Amy will have Layla as a buffer between her and Mitzi. I know Amy and Mitzi had a rough start. But since the morning she crashed our breakfast, Mitzi has been the perfect agent. She’s been supportive, helpful, encouraging and almost pleasant. All this wouldn’t have come together so quickly if it weren't for her.

“Dude, you about ready to do this? Our appointment for tux fittings is in an hour,” Riven announces as he comes trudging into my room. Picking up a throw pillow off my floor, he tosses it in my face.

“You’re such an incredible ass, you know that, Riv?” I throw the pillow back, hitting him square in the chest. Sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I run my fingers through my stiff hair. I guess I can’t stay in bed all day thinking about Amy. Time to get up. “Give me ten minutes to shower and get ready.” Stretching my arms above my head and turning toward him, Riven starts laughing at me. “Something you want to share with the rest of the class, Riv?”

“Is that a kielbasa in your shorts or are you just glad to see me?” Looking down, I observe morning wood poking through my boxer briefs, made stiffer by thoughts of my sweet girl. “I’m sorry, but lately you’ve had more pussy than I’ve had hot dinners…and that’s a lot! She must be great in the sack if you’re sporting a chub just thinking about her, again. Do you make Miss Kitty purr?” He asks, teasing me as usual.

“Riv, shut the fuck up. Mind your business about my sex life,” I bark at him. “Does Layla know you’re this obsessed with me? Poor girl. You should tell her, let her down easy.”

“Ha, if it wouldn’t hurt Amy’s feelings, Layla would most likely give us her blessing. That girl exudes confidence and nothing seems to phase her. Sometimes I wonder if it’s for real or show.”

Riven has no idea Amy and I haven’t had actual sex yet. If he knew that we’ve only been messing around, I’d never live it down. Riven can usually close the deal with a chick by winking at her or just smiling.

“Beat it, ass wipe! I need to shower and then we can head out.”

“Got it! Go take care of Donkey Schlong. I’ll wait downstairs.” He turns to leave and I yank my black boxer briefs off and shoot them like a sling shot, nailing Riven in the back of the head. Cupping the back of his head where I hit him, he turns back around giving me a ‘what the fuck’ look. “Dude that’s disgusting I don’t need your brand of extra hold gel for my hair, I’m naturally handsome.”

“Oh yeah, you’re a real heart breaker.” Ignoring his arrogant smile, I head to the bathroom. Just as I cross the threshhold he nails me on the back of my head with something. Looking down, I notice my discarded underwear. Turning around, I find Riven busting a gut laughing, he’s cracking up so much, he needs the wall to hold him up.

“Dick!” I exclaim and slam the bathroom door on his last comment.

“Go rub one out Captain Underpants.” He yells through the door. You know, sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with Riven. They say you can’t choose your relatives, but you can choose your friends. What the hell was I thinking when I chose him as my best friend?

Chapter #11

Nerd Girl Problem #111

Bitches and boutiques and bugs. Oh my!

M
ost girls dream about being the center of attention at a fancy dress boutique. Having a fashion consultant flittering around you, bringing you dress after dress to try on, making you feel like a princess for a day, and just sucking up to you. I guess that’s true in movies, or if your name is Mitzi Decker. When your name is Amy Jenkins, you get the blue collar treatment and side glances with not so silent whispers behind your back. I knew I should have brought Layla on this dress hunt. I just thought I’d be able to handle Mitzi’s attitude like a big girl on my own. To the outside person, she appears to be supportive in a very stuck up sort of way, but I know better. Her little comments or not so subtle insults are aimed directly at me and there’s no amount of ‘just kidding’ or ‘just saying’ that can cover them up. Layla refused to come along. She said I was crazy for even humoring Derrick by swallowing my pride and going with Mitzi. I don’t think the place we are going to is Layla’s style anyway. She’s more cutting edge or vintage flair. There are a few thrift shops she frequents that always have something she can make her own.

Mitzi and I arrive at Exquisite for our appointment with Libby. Mimosas and a plate of different cheeses and grapes awaited us as we entered our private dressing area. One curtained alcove was designated for Mitzi and the other for me. I assume Libby already made her selections for Mitzi because her area was overflowing with different colors and fabrics. Gorgeous gowns, seductive cocktail dresses and a collection of unique shoes. My area is empty save for the tape measure hanging from a hook. With a clap of her hands, a chic looking brunette wearing a black pencil skirt and royal blue silk blouse, glides into our room on a pair of killer pumps. Following closely behind her is a short, plump, blonde girl in a grey and white polka dot dress. Making a beeline for Mitzi, the two classy women speak French to each other and share a joke. With a chin nod in my direction, Mitzi indicates me to the brunette woman. Here we go.

“Emily, so good to meet you. I am Libby. We will find you the perfect dress, oui?” She greets me with a fake smile and a cultured French accent. What the hell, is my name that difficult to remember?

“It’s Amy,” I correct her. “And yes, I hope we’ll be able to find something appropriate for a cocktail party.” I shake Libby’s hand and she yanks the tape measure off the hook. Turning me this way and that way, measuring me. Once she finishes, Libby rambles off a few orders to her assistant and the girl goes running.

“Well, I’ll leave you in Libby’s capable hands, I’ve got to find my perfect dress as well.” Mitzi waves me off and closes herself in her dressing room to try on her selections.

Over the next two hours, Libby’s assistant, Brie, the short, blonde girl, is run ragged going back and forth fetching dozens of dresses for me to try on. Unfortunately, none of them seems to work with my height, shape, hair color, or complexion. I’m just about to give up hope when I spot a champagne colored, strapless cocktail dress in Mitzi’s discard pile. Running my hands over the delicate lace and beaded overlay, I quickly scoop up the dress and bring it into my dressing area. I quickly wiggle into it and adjust my ample C cups into the sweetheart neckline. Not believing my eyes as I look in the mirror, I look stunning. The dress hugs my curves in all the right places and showcases my long legs with its short skirt. The amount of cleavage I have shown is a little more than I’m comfortable with, but I simply glow in this dress. Libby and Brie come bustling into my dressing room with armfuls of more dresses. They both take one look at me and are rendered speechless.

“Oh, Emily, oui, magnifique!” Libby complements and poor wearied Brie just smiles her first genuine smile of the day.

“My name is Amy and yes, I think this is the one,” I inform the two gaping women. Just as I turn my back so Brie can assist me with the zipper, Mitzi barges in and sees me in the dress.

“Well, look at you,” she takes me in and does a full body scan. “I’m not so sure if champagne is your color, Amy, we wouldn’t want you appear washed out. Perhaps a more bold color would do you justice. There’s a stunning mauve go-,” I interrupt her suggestion because I’ve already seen the mauve gown and it’s hideous, flat out ugly.

“Thanks for the suggestion, Mitzi, but I think I’m going to get this one.” Scrunching up her nose and rolling her eyes, she’s obviously not happy with my choice of dress. Well, tough noogies, you brat.

“That’s fine, that dress wasn’t my taste anyhow I went with classic black, I’m sure that one will be fine for the party. Libby dear, can you lend a hand picking shoes that match that dress for Amy?”

“But of course,” Libby replies in that French accent. We spend the next half hour trying on all kinds of different shoes. Some strappy, some backless, some sling back, but all have super high heels. I wobble and stumble around in them. Yep, practice is in order if I’m to survive an evening in these death traps. Once I find the perfect pair, I feel just like a princess. I do a quick prance around the dressing area, admiring myself in all the mirrors and putting a little extra strut in my steps and wiggle in my hips. Those pole classes are starting to pay off; My posture is better, my confidence is growing and, with more practice, I might pass for elegant. Taking one more look in the mirror, I spot someone watching me in my reflection. It’s Mitzi and boy does she look pissed off. I can’t imagine why, though. The whole point of going out today was to find dresses. What did she expect? Me to purchase a pillow case to wear? She quickly leaves the room and returns to the main part of the boutique. With Brie’s help, I quickly change back into my street clothes and join Mitzi up front to take care of our bill. As soon as I pull out my debit card to pay for my stuff, Mitzi laughs at me. Why the hell is she laughing?

“Oh, Amy, how sweet! Derrick is taking care of paying for your dress. You are his date, so it’s only right he foots the bill.” No, no it’s not alright. I attempt to hand my card to the clerk again and the girl explains to me that my dress and shoes have already been taken care of. I guess I’ll have to take this up with Derrick and pay him back. Once our dresses are wrapped up and placed in garment bags, we’re given large, handled, shopping bags containing our shoes. With a charming “au revoir” from Libby and a wave from Brie, we’re done with our shopping trip. Not so very quick and painless, but I have a killer dress and I am going to knock Derrick on his ass when he sees me dressed for his party.

“Well, Amy, where are you off to now?” Mitzi asks.

“I’m having dinner with Derrick at his house tonight; he’s cooking for me,” I tell her. She gives me a vacant expression, but her eyes say something entirely different. She is trying to appear unfazed by this information, but I know differently.

“Well, enjoy yourselves. Tell Derrick I need to speak with him later about something, will you?”

“No, problem.” With that, Mitzi turns and leaves me standing on the sidewalk by myself. Yanking out my phone, I bounce a quick, one word text to Derrick. Earlier he asked me to send him a text with my color choice of the dress so he can match his cummerbund and tie to what I’m wearing.

Amy:
Champagne.

His reply comes back almost immediately
.

Derrick:
Elegant!! See you soon. Xoxox

Amy:
On my way now. Xxxx

Practically skipping to my car, I make a quick detour home. I want to drop off my dress because I want the night of the party to be the first time he sees it. I show GG and Pops my dress when I get home. GG is impressed with my choice and spends at least fifteen minutes gushing over how lovely I’ll look and that Derrick is such a considerate boy to pay for everything. I hang my dress in my closet and pack a small overnight bag just in case I decide to stay again with Derrick. Clyde pushes my bedroom door open and keeps me company while I putter around, packing essentials; tooth brush, extra panties, etc. I guess I have been neglecting him a bit lately. I get down on my knees in front of him and wait for him to nudge me with his nose. Those pleading eyes look everywhere, but at me. Poor baby!

“Hey, boy, you going to give me some love?” I pat my lap twice and wait for him to make up his mind. Eventually, he gives in and gives me the nudge. Using both my hands, I rub under his floppy, velvety soft ears. He licks my face and lifts his front paw to my shoulder. All is right in our world. I kiss his head and stand up so I can finish packing. He stays sitting on the floor, just watching me. “You be good, Clyde, and take care of Pops for me,” I tell him the same thing every time I leave the house. Shouldering my bag, I leave my room, kiss Pops goodbye and give GG a squeeze. I tell them where I’m going and that I most likely won’t be home tonight. They worry but know I’m 23 years old and have to let me live my life. As I go to open the front door, I hear the clicking of claws on the hardwood floor behind me. He doesn’t approach me any further he just sits and waits for me to say something to him. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Clyde. I love you.” His reply is a grunt and then he gets up and walks away from me. He always makes me feel so guilty for leaving him. Almost like he’s afraid I won’t come back. Crazy dog!

Hopping in my little red Hyundai, I drive the three towns over to Derrick’s town house. I was brought up with the rule you always bring something with you when you’re invited to somebodies house. Whether it’s a bottle of wine or a dessert, you always bring something. Derrick informed me I was to bring nothing but myself. He was taking care of the rest. I park my car on the street next to the front of his house and walk up to the porch, knocking twice before entering. Upon opening the door, my senses are attacked by the most delicious aromas. Following my nose and ears into the kitchen, I find Derrick hard at work chopping and dicing vegetables for what looks like a delicious salad. He glances up when he notices me come in, greeting me with a smile that makes me go weak in the knees.

“There she is.” Placing his chopping knife down on the counter next to the cutting board, he rounds the island, hauling me into his arms. He devours my lips with a kiss that says
‘I missed you something fierce.’
He must have been drinking wine because I can taste the tangy flavor on his tongue.
“Dinner is almost ready. I sure hope you’re hungry.” Giving one final lingering kiss, he returns to resume his chopping.

“What’s for dinner? It smells mouthwatering, by the way.” I take up my usual perch on the bar seat opposite him at the island. Taking in the open floor plan of his home I notice the dining room table is laid with fashionable looking china, crystal wine glasses, lit taper candles and linen napkins folded into…is that a standing fan? He’s been a busy boy. The whole atmosphere here is designed for romance.

“I made grilled salmon, fresh asparagus, angel hair pasta with lemon sauce and salad. For dessert, I made strawberry cheesecake.” Well, well, well, the boy sure can cook.

“Sounds scrumptious, I can’t wait.” I watch him put the finishing touches on our salad and place the rest of our dinner on a serving platter. Once everything has been transferred to the dining room, Derrick holds out my chair so I can be seated. Such a gentlemen. Pouring me a glass of Pinot Noir, we settle in for our delectable meal. Our conversation is easy and flows smoothly. We talk about the events of our day; how his tux fitting went, how my dress shopping was with Mitzi, the usual stuff. Once our bellies are full, we sit at the table sipping our wine and just relaxing.

“So where’s Riven tonight?” I’m curious because I haven’t heard anything about him from Layla other than he asked her to be his date for the launch party. He gives me an awkward look.

“Riven had a date tonight.” Huh? That’s weird because I know Layla had to work the late shift at her salon tonight. That’s when it hits me.

“Riven went out with some other girl tonight? Why would he do that? I thought he was interested in Layla.” I could have sworn he was serious about Layla, what the hell! You don’t date other girls if you’re interested in somebody else.

“Amy, Riv is interested in Layla. The problem is he’s not so sure she’s interested in him. She’s made no declarations about their relationship to him. She’s a complete enigma.” Derrick takes a sip of his wine and continues explaining to me why Riven went out with some other chick tonight. “Riven is the type of guy that wants a girl to lay claim to him, tell him he’s hers. Layla hasn’t done that and she’s very nonchalant about everything. Riven likes the idea of her being a take charge girl and that’s what he’s waiting for.” Now that he’s explained everything to me, I understand better, but I still don’t approve of Riven dating other girls while he pursues my friend. Derrick is right though, no promises have been made to either of them and so nobody gets hurt.

“You about ready for dessert.” Giving me a smoldering look I know he’s not talking about the cheesecake. I’m ready. I want tonight to be the first night we make love together. I’m nervous but excited. My first time was a disaster, this time I hope makes up for it.

“I am.” I respond to his question and get up from the table, holding my hand out for him to take. His hand trembles a little in mine. I guess perhaps he’s just as nervous as I am.

We walk hand in hand up the stairs while his other hand softly runs down my back to my rear end, giving it a light squeeze. Upon entering his bedroom, I notice the bedsheets turned down and candles lit on each of the nightstands. Downstairs was designed for romance, whereas the bedroom is designed for seduction. Standing in front of me, Derrick quickly, but methodically, removes my black t-shirt with “Love” ironically written across the front. I toe off my black ballet flats and he helps me remove my black cargo pants. Standing in just my panties and bra, he looks his fill at my body. Stroking me from my neck, down to my shoulders, over the curves of my breasts, and lower still to my flat stomach with his hands.