Authors: N Taylor
By N Taylor
To Mum, Nikki & Anne
Thank you for your continued support
I did it for you x
“What the… ouch, shit my head hurts,
what have I done this time?” Still drunk I arouse from a comatose state trying to find some familiarity through the haze of blurry eyes and pounding hangover, as to where I am.
, I can’t feel my arm…Oh my God…Oh my God!”
I start to panic
, thinking someone’s sawn off my arm like some kind of horror movie. Taking a look up, I see I’ve fallen asleep with my arm above my head and entwined with the wooden headboard. All the blood has run out of it leaving it numb. I lay my head down and breathe a sigh of relief. I look up again; laughing at my hysterical thoughts and, like a brick being launched off the top of The Eifel Tower, my arm comes smacking down to earth and wallops me in the face.
Fuck!” I start breathing rapidly through my mouth, trying to curb my urge to scream and cry. “Shit! oh wow that hurts, fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
Looking around the stark white room I can’t see anything familiar
, but boy, does my head hurt and now, so does my nose! I lay my head back down as the four inches I had it levitated was like pure torture, and the taste of blood is now running down my throat. Ok ceiling, do I recognise you? Not my ceiling…ok body we need to get up and see where we ended up last night. I sit myself up, wow its bright in here, I have to squint to try and see through the brash light streaming into the room from the balcony doors. Cupping my nose with my good arm I realise I am on a bed but it’s not my bed. I’m fully clothed and that’s a good sign, my angelic side pats herself on the back but my devilish side is still asleep.
Using my one functioning arm I shuffle to the end of the bed so
that my feet are grounded, with my left arm hanging limp by my side. Slowly standing up towards the light, minding my now bleeding nose, I rub my eyes and groan in a whispered breath;
Can today get any worse? Well, lets face it it’s” - glancing at my watch, “6:25am, so yes its early. I have a day of cack-handedness, butter fingers and falls to look forward to.”
ing with a slight shake I realise where I am and looking on the floor I can see some familiar faces still unconscious from the night before. Stepping over numerous blonde and brunette ladies in burlesque clothing I find my way to Lucas who is sleeping on the couch. He has become a dear friend these past few months and I love him to pieces but there is no excuse for his current sleeping position - one hand down his white suit pants, while the other is half way up some poor blonde’s skirt!
I lean over to grab
my bag from beside him and take out my phone, as you never know when a picture of this class could be used, well, for me to rip it out of him later anyway. Poor blondie she’s going to wake up, exchange numbers and expect a call from him but I know Lucas all too well. He’ll string her out for the next week thus, making their working relationship awkward and, I’ve told him before, dating your backing dancers is not healthy work ethic but he’s carefree. I envy him.
Lucas has the looks of a Greek god with his olive skin, emerald green eyes, square jaw lin
e and dimpled chin. His hair is dark and is always perfectly styled to the side, very Sinatra and he has a voice like him too. The women swoon over him constantly offering sex, which he rarely refuses.
Lucas is the headline act in the nightclub
‘Hooch’ owned by notorious playboy wannabe and troublemaker Jerry Fines. Hence the party last night; we had a few too many and all bundled back to Lucas’s apartment to drink more, once Lucas had finished his set with the dancers. I can only assume I passed out on the bed and the others got down and dirty together which does not surprise me, I have witnessed Lucas’s orgies on many occasion but never wanted to join in.
Taking a quick snap of the loving couple
; with a little giggle, I tiptoe to the door and slide myself out, making sure not to disturb any of the sleeping beauties. Closing the door behind me with a gentle click as the latch catches, I cup my nose one last time as it is now starting to throb.
I’m not that far from home but walking around Broadway apartments before 7am on a Monday morning is not a great idea, the owner for one
- the same Jerry Fines - is not a force to be reckoned with. On a Monday he is always moody and doing the rent knock before the suits leave for work. My uncle always says Jerry has small dog syndrome and I’m not supposed to really be near him, as Jerry knows some bad people. He’s about 5 foot tall with a god awful dyed black perm and he carries more jewellery on his hands and neck then the average pawnshop sells.
I also would like to get home before
the streets are heaving with the suiters and booters out to earn a crust, because right now my head’s booming way too much to be making my way through the bustling crowd and my bleeding nose won’t look great.
Walking fast down the corridor with the elevator in view I start picking up speed, dreaming of a nice hot bath and
bed. Attempting to walk in a straight line I have my eyes fixated on my destination, so much so I do not see the figure stepping out of their door and into my pathway.
BANG’ - like a steam train to a brick wall - I smack into them. I’m not exactly sturdy in my current condition and now I can feel myself flying backwards and then I land, oh so lady like, on my backside.
“Ssshhhhhugar….bloody hell that hurts.” I sob quietly
, but loud enough, to emanate my pain.
In my still drunken state
I scramble to my knees muttering all kinds of curse words. Not looking up I place my hands on my thighs and I’m trying to catch my breath, “Sheesh does no one look where they are going anymore? Don’t mind me, just bowl me over…and ouch my bloody nose!”
Cupping my nose once
again as I can taste fresh blood; I lift my upper body up, with my knees still firmly grounded, only to find I am eye level with a very nicely suited crotch. My mouth drops open and I am just staring. ‘What is wrong with me, come on woman, get up off the floor. Stop looking at this man’s well-hung parts.’ My devilish side whispers in my ear, ‘
Keep staring, at least if the face is nothing to look at you have this pretty image reserved for later should you need it!
There’s a cough from above my eye
level but I don’t want to move. The door the crotch appeared from opens once more and a voice says laughing, “Wow Trey, got them falling at your feet this early eh? Here, you forgot your phone.”
I look to the left to see the man at the door.
,” with that he chuckles passing a phone above my head and closes the door shut. I feel like I have been staring for about ten minutes but I think it’s only been about one, how do I break this moment without looking like too much of a perve?
There’s a cough from above
again. I slowly tilt my head back to see what was above the magnificent weapon in front of my very open, slack jawed, mouth. Well at least I now know the groin I was staring at has a name.
Breaking the silence
this deep soothing voice jests, “Normally I wouldn’t indulge in erm ….” he laughs, “Oral this early on a Monday.”
eyes catch his, I lost all use of my jaw muscles but they, as myself, finally regain composure and are now allowing me to bring my mouth to a shut.
His hand comes down and grasps mine
, pulling me up. As his skin touches mine it sends a wave of electrical currents through me, causing goose bumps all across my body, this makes me clench deep down inside. Is this raw sexual attraction I am feeling?
I’m now standing
in front of this godly creation, this beautiful man that radiates an astounding sexual essence that makes me quiver deep within. I close my eyes and my ‘angelic side’ mutters dryly in my other ear ‘
You’re hung over and you stink, how can you be getting turned on by this situation? Explain how you have possibly broken your own nose, go on see how attractive you are then!
She shouts the truth and I don’t know how
or why but standing there looking into the sparkling blue eyes, so blue it’s like looking into the depths of the ocean, I
getting turned on.
Taking a look over him
, I can see he’s wearing charcoal suit trousers that are hugging him in all the right places, a Cargo green tight sweater that caresses his upper torso, showing every inch of muscle on his arms. He has designer stubble all around his strong bitable jaw line. This is all flattered by a mop of mousey blonde hair on top, with perfectly trimmed short back and sides.
“Are you ok?”
Shaking my head trying to clear the unwanted thoughts of jumping his bones, I come back to reality.
“Are you ok?” Trey asks again, still holding my hand.
I cough to clear my throat, “I’m ok, I think.”
My devilish side is hammering at my ear yelling, ‘
No, no say you ne
d the kiss of life, faint, play dead, do something!
“You think?” He asks
softly, now stroking the back of my hand.
Sensing how hot and seriously turned on I am getting
, I pull my hand away and instantly my defenses go up.
“I was ok
, until you bowled me over,” Embarrassment now setting in and sarcasm in abundance, my face is going red, heart rate is quickening and I can feel my private area….well after years of no contact - its yearning.
“I bowled you over did I? I’m sorry I thought I was just leaving my friends apartment but…”
I can feel that the situation is getting more embarrassing and I’m not one for thinking before I
speak so with a deep breath I muse, “Apology accepted thanks.”
I flush ruby.
His face is so…so wow, I’m sure I have seen it before but I can’t place it.
My angelic side is standing with a clothes peg over her nose
, for the fumes of alcohol coming off my skin are immense and I’m shocked he’s not getting drunk from being so close.
His mouth opens in shock then turns to a wry smile
; I start to turn to head for the lift. Knowing I have left him speechless has got my inner devil giving me a standing ovation and angel girl too seems impressed. Seeing the stairs are closer I dart for them and as I reach the door he shouts, “I didn’t get your name and your nose is bleeding!”
What am I thinking
, how can I have just been so bold to run into him and then get him to apologise for it. I can’t help the nervous giggling as I make my decent down the steps, skipping two at a time.
I open the door to the lobby and peek my head around trying to see if Jerry is on the prowl. The lobby is mainly a cream colour on the walls and golden décor – trust Small dog to be so brash with the cash and taste, it’s not too bad
, but I’ve stayed in better motels.