Close To You: Part 1 Read online

  CLOSE TO YOU

  Part 1

  ~

  Toni Lee

  Copyright, Toni Lee

  CLOSE TO YOU: Part 1

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright Toni Lee 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this work may be reproduced in any form without the express permission of the author.

  Edited by Laurie Laliberte

  http://laurielaliberte.blogspot.com

  CLOSE TO YOU

  Part 1

  ~

  1.

  Things had been better. Scarlet picked through the clothes on the floor to find something that wasn't either screwed up, wrinkled as a dishrag, or in need of a wash.

  It was true she'd not caught up with her laundry lately (or her ironing for that matter) but she'd not had the spare change to feed the machines at the LAUNDROMAT down the street. When it came down to eating or doing the laundry, having a nice fresh top to wear out for the night was the least of her priorities.

  But tonight was different.

  She needed it. Scarlet had rinsed the last dregs from her bank account, collecting together what she needed for one final night out. A blow out. It'd be head down, back to finding a job after that. No more wild nights.

  It's what she swore to herself every time, without fail.

  Knuckle down, save the pennies, get herself back out of the red. The negative balance on her overdraft was like red quicksand. Once you got stuck in there, it was nigh impossible to pull yourself back out.

  But at least she'd have tonight, and she'd forget all her problems and worries for a couple of hours. At least that was the plan, and it was one she intended to stick to.

  "Ah! There you are!" she said happily as she found a white dress with the tag still on that was bundled inside a market bag. Something she'd got from a second hand shop and chucked under the bed. It'd never been worn, and she'd managed to get it at an absolute bargain price. Scarlet got up, held the dress out in front of her in admiration. "Finally, something goes my way."

  Scarlet checked the clock, then got in the shower with the bathroom door wide open. She had the stereo going full pelt in the living room, blasting tunes by the Black Eyed Peas, heavy with base. She lathered her body with soap, shaved her legs and washed her hair. She felt renewed, refreshed, and reinvigorated.

  "The three r's," she said to herself as she switched the shower back off and stepped out onto a towel. Scarlet wrapped another towel around herself and sang along to the music pouring out of the stereo as she got ready.

  The apartment was only a one bedroom but she still seemed to struggle in keeping it clean and tidy. Maybe it just wasn't in her nature to be domesticated like that. Some women were just born to be mothers. They were literally mothering, stay-at-home material.

  Scarlet knew she was far from the obedient housewife type, and was under no illusions that that would ever be the case, either. She lived for the night too much. For going out, drinking and dancing. Occasionally picking up a man and letting herself go, along with her clothes and underwear.

  That was what she liked. Sometimes there was nothing better than pulling some random in a bar or club and enjoying a good fuck. No entanglements, no expectations of anything other than what was on offer.

  Sex.

  Scarlet sat on the edge of her bed, reapplying the nail polish to her toes.

  Three months ago she'd lost her cosy job as a receptionist at a dentist's and she'd struggled to find something -- anything -- to replace it. Now the last of her savings had fizzled away like flat lemonade and a kind of creeping panic had set in.

  How will I eat? How will I pay the electric bill? How will I afford to go out?

  Maybe tonight's a bad idea, she allowed herself to consider for a moment before pushing the thought aside.

  No, I need this more than I care to admit.

  Scarlet used her blow drier to dry her toenails then went to work on her hair, in front of the tall mirror that stood on the floor by the foot of the bed, leant back against the wall. No time to find a hammer and nail to hang it with. She brushed her locks through then straightened them, pleased as ever with her ability to make her hair look fabulous with a little work. Her silky chestnut bangs fell past her shoulders. She'd never been tempted to cut them.

  Scarlet checked the clock again. Already the light was fading out in the street.

  Better get my arse in gear, she told herself as she slipped into her panties. She always had clean underwear. You didn't need a laundrette for cleaning those. That's what sinks were for.

  I'm a mess, she thought to herself as she surveyed the state of her apartment. The clutter and mess everywhere. It wasn't filthy in there, nothing like that. But it was an obsessive-compulsive's worst nightmare.

  Scarlet looked at herself in the mirror. Slim physique, not one pound heavier than she had been at eighteen . . . and that was ten years ago. Her breasts were always her best asset. Not too big, not too small. Just slightly larger than a man's hand. She'd always been pretty and aging hadn't yet diminished her looks at all. She'd been lucky, really. When she ran across old school friends in the street, she was always amazed at how aged and weathered they looked.

  No I'm not a mess, she corrected herself. The apartment is. Me? I'm one hot piece of arse.

  That made her laugh out loud. She grabbed the white dress and pulled the tag free from the label at the back. Usually she'd be going out with her friends, or at the very least, meeting them somewhere. But not tonight. This one was a solo mission, no wing-mate. Not even her best friend James.

  "Just you and me tonight, baby," she said to the dress. "And we're gonna do some damage."

  2.

  He picked her up before midnight in a bar called MICKEY'S. They got talking – as much as you can above the din of the music – and he bought Scarlet a drink.

  "I'm Liam, by the way," he said as she finished another drink. The room was starting to turn, everything around her getting comfortably hazy. "Do you want another one?"

  He moved to take her empty glass. She laid her own hand over his. Their eyes met across the little table. The music boomed.

  "I don't want another drink. I want to go home."

  She didn't have to explain what she meant. If the way she said it didn't make the subtext apparent, the look in her eyes did. He led her out of the bar, his hand confidently around her waist. They signalled a taxi and she gave the driver her address. The city lights buzzed past as they made out in the back of the cab, the driver making occasional glances in the mirror to watch. They pulled up outside her apartment block and she watched as Liam paid the man, pulling two tens from a wallet fat with notes.

  "Shall we?" he asked her.

  Scarlet led the way up the stairs, holding his hand. She opened the door to her apartment but didn't bother to throw on the lights. Liam shut the door behind them.

  "Do you want anything?" Scarlet asked him.

  He answered her by moving in, cupping her chin in his hand and pressing his mouth against hers. His tongue explored the warm cavern of her mouth, his hands moving to hold her hips, her hands brushing over his shirt. She started unbuttoning him, revealing the smooth skin beneath. Liam pressed her against the wall, their tongues still entwined in a long, deep, passionate kiss.

  Scarlet reached down for his belt buckle, the leather strap pulling free of the metal, then her fingers tugging on the clip at the top of his trousers.

  Liam pulled away from her and before she could ask him if anything was the matter, he asked, "Where's your bedroom?"

  3.

  They fell onto the bed and kissed for what seemed like an age, their hands wandering across each other's bodies.


  Liam's hand found her thigh, then slid up her dress. Scarlet grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand up, against her cotton panties. He took the hint, pulled her briefs aside. His fingertips ran down the warm, wet fold of her vagina, back and forth.

  "Hold on."

  Scarlet hiked her dress up to her waist, parted her legs for him. She arched her back as he held her panties away and went to work on her with his mouth.

  He was good, maybe the best she'd ever had. Some men didn't like giving oral, but Liam obviously loved it. She could tell. He licked her up and down first, the tip of his tongue playing across the edges of her lips before plunging in amongst the wet, musky centre of her cunt. She sighed, grabbed handfuls of his short dark hair as he brought her to orgasm.

  Scarlet looked up at the ceiling. Orange street light poured through the gaps in the blinds, and she heard a car rattle past outside. Liam didn't stop, and she could feel the wave coming again. She couldn't keep her eyes open as it hit her, a strong orgasm heightened by his tongue flicking across her clit. She groaned, grabbed his head and rammed it down against her, hard.

  The second it passed she sat up. Liam stepped back off of the bed and watched her as she yanked his trousers down. He slipped out of his shirt as she freed him of his boxers then massaged his stiff cock.

  "Suck it," he told her and she obliged instantly, thankfully. Some part of her ached to taste it, she knew. To have his cock in her mouth, Scarlet's tongue sliding around his shaft, up and down the length of it to the tip. She glanced up at him, half lit by the sulphurous street light from outside. He had his hands at his sides, his head thrown back, eyes closed.

  He looks like a porn star, Scarlet thought.

  She dipped up and down on his dick, her left hand cupping his balls and squeezing them gently, rhythmically, massaging them. Liam laid a hand against the side of her face, his thumb tracing the edge of her jaw line.

  Scarlet stopped. Liam looked down at her. "Huh?"

  "Don't cum in my mouth, okay?"

  He smiled, showing tidy white teeth. "Lay back on the bed."

  She did as she was told. Liam produced a condom, rolled it out on his dick. They fucked until they were both exhausted. A few hours later, with the first dim light of the sunrise creeping in past the blinds, he woke her for more. Scarlet turned on her side, sleepily. She lifted her leg for him, and he curled into her, his cock a throbbing exclamation point against her behind.

  "Go on," she whispered. "Fuck me from behind."

  He drew back from her and she lay there, listening to him fumbling in the dark for his trousers. For his wallet where she knew he had a stash of rubbers. Moments later he was back in the bed, his body wrapped around her as he guided his cock into her waiting pussy. She gasped at the way he pushed himself deep inside, roughly, followed almost instantly by a groan as he slid in and out. His hands gripped her right thigh, and his breath came hot against the back of her neck.

  She closed her eyes, one hand behind her on his hip as he pivoted back and forth. With the other she gripped the underneath of her pillow, his thrusting driving her to ecstasy. Liam moved his hand from her leg to her swollen breast, to her rock hard nipple. He squeezed and her pussy squeezed his cock like a fist a second later.

  "I'm coming," he said. "I'm coming."

  She turned her head, clamped her mouth against his as they both came together. Satisfied, he collapsed back on the mattress. Scarlet felt him kiss the back of her neck before throwing an arm over her and going to sleep. She pulled the covers up over her and drifted off.

  4.

  When she woke, Liam was already out of bed, buckling his trousers. She sat up and watched him.

  "Going already?"

  He offered her a smile and buttoned his shirt. "Yeah. Gotta get going."

  She ran a hand through her hair.

  "Do you . . . uh . . . wanna meet up again or something?" she asked him.

  It was always awkward the morning after. Especially when they didn't want to stay a while. Even more so when they didn't want to see you again.

  "Yeah maybe. I'll be in touch," he said. She frowned as he came around the bed and kissed her on the forehead. "It was fun."

  He headed for the door.

  "I don't have your number or anything," Scarlet said.

  Liam opened the door and gave the place a cursory look. "Listen, you might wanna tidy up in here. This place is a bit of a dump. Just sayin'."

  He shut the door after himself. Scarlet sat there, feeling as though she'd been slapped in the face. "Well, fuck you too . . ." she finally said to herself, though she had to admit he had a point. But still . . .

  "Jerk."

  5.

  Later that day, after she'd showered, James sent her a text to see if she was still meeting up with him for a coffee. She'd almost forgotten.

  James: Hey you. Are we still on?

  Scarlet: Yeah. Of course. What time?

  James: Make it 2 XO

  Scarlet: Ok. Meet you there. Usual place yeah?

  James: Don't be late, lady :)

  Scarlet: Cheeky. I'm never late ;) X

  James: Lol. I beg to differ!

  She threw on a pair of jeans and a blouse, tucked her phone and keys into a handbag and set off just after one in the afternoon. A few minutes walk from her apartment she slid her card into an ATM and checked her balance.

  YOU HAVE

  $0 FUNDS

  AVAILABLE

  Scarlet put the card back in her purse then checked the zipped compartment. She had a ten pound note and some change in there. She put her purse away and continued walking to the café, a lump in her throat at her suddenly dire situation. Maybe she could ask her parents for a loan, just to tide her over for another month or two until she could find something. Or she could hit the credit card, but neither was an option she really wanted to entertain. Her parents wanted very little to do with her, because she wasn't like her sister. Scarlet wasn't settled with a husband, comfortable in a regular job like Lois.

  She'd always flitted from one job to another, making ends meet however she could. She went out too much, sometimes drank too much. She picked up the occasional guy, something else her parents didn't agree with. However, she knew that if she rang them and explained her situation, they'd transfer money to her, no questions asked.

  But it was a last resort.

  She'd rather slap everything on her plastic (which she'd paid off a year before and swore to herself – in a moment of unusual maturity – that she'd never touch again) than ask them for a handout, beg for a loan from Mummy and Daddy.

  If only she'd been able to keep her job till she could find something else. But she'd had no choice.

  * * *

  The chief practitioner at the Dentist's was an older guy in his fifties called Raymond Kyle. Although he was married with three grown kids, it didn't stop Dr. Kyle getting a bit free and easy in the contact department. A pat on the behind as she walked in front of him, a hand squeezing her shoulder in a "shall I give you a back rub, darling?" manner. Asking her to stay behind later than normal to sort out the filing system, and propositioning her in the process. The final straw had been one afternoon in his office when he grabbed her tit.

  "That's enough," she'd snapped at him.

  It was different to picking a guy up at a bar and enjoying some loose sex, no ties. But to get harassed every day for it by a man much older than she, whom she wasn't in the least attracted to . . . that was a whole other ball game. It put her on edge. When he'd grabbed her, she had to resist the urge to throw a right hook at him.

  "Scarlet, there's no need to react like that, it's harmless fun," Dr. Kyle said with his perfect, straight smile.

  "I think there is," she snapped. "You've been doing it for a while, and I'm not comfortable with it. I work here, that's it."

  His smile started to fade. "Lower your voice."

  She glanced at the door to his office. It was open a crack, the waiting area directly outside. "No."


  Dr. Kyle took a step toward her. Scarlet pointed a finger. "Stay away from me you fucking pervert."

  It was like she'd slapped him in the face.

  "Scarlet. Please, keep your voice down. Can't we talk about this like rational adults? It was just a misunderstanding."

  "Fuck you," she said, aware now that if there were a line to cross that would result in you losing your job, it was probably when you told your boss to go fuck themselves. That usually sealed the deal. Scarlet backed toward the door, where she'd been in direct earshot of everyone in the waiting area and the other receptionist, Chloe. "I'm not going to fuck you. You're a married man, and I don't even find you attractive. What you've been doing to me, that's abuse. That's inappropriate. So stick your job up your arse, you fucking sex fiend."

  She wished she'd had a camera. The look on his face was a perfect mixture of disbelief, embarrassment and numbness she'd ever seen.

  As Scarlet walked out to the waiting area, Dr. Kyle's paying customers eyed her warily, some of them whispering to one another about what they'd overheard.

  Ha! Damage is done here, boy-o, she thought, proud of herself for finally standing up to his bullshit.

  She grabbed her bag from behind the front desk.

  "It's been lovely working with you Chloe, but I'm off," she said.

  "I sort of gathered that," Chloe whispered.

  "Don't let him do anything to you, okay?" Scarlet said. At that point Dr. Kyle had appeared in his doorway, his face bright red, no sign of his smile now. "The guy's a sexual predator."

  And that was how she lost her job.

  * * *

  Scarlet found James sitting outside THE CHERRY TREE, sipping a latte. He stood up when he saw her, gave her a brief hug and a peck on the cheek. She ordered a strong coffee and sat opposite him.

  He was her age with light brown hair and soft blue eyes. They'd been friends since high school, but their relationship always remained platonic. They'd never hooked up.