“Red,” he says, my eyes spring open and he’s watching me greedily. “Leave them open.”
I do as he commands not arguing with him. I argue with everyone, but for some reason, the reasoning part of me that screams to do the opposite does nothing and sits dormant at his request. Like she knows he’s about to give me what I want. What I’ve wanted for a long time. And just as I move forward, he holds me still, pushes into me hard and I leave my eyes open as I come. His eyes don’t leave mine, and I wonder what I look like right now. Is my red hair a mess falling over my face, I can feel it has come out of its bun on my head and dangles down my back. Is my eyeshadow smeared over my face?
Then I realize, I don’t really care.
Because what he’s doing to me right now far outweighs how I look. Even if how I look is a big part of who I am and what I do. I like that he makes me not care about that. I bet it’s because I’ll never see him again, so that part of me which would usually care doesn’t. I love it.
I see it in his eyes when he comes, I feel it as well. And I know without a doubt, he will be a man I won’t easily forget. I’ll compare this blond man to every other man that touches me from this moment on. And that’s okay because we all have someone in our mind for that. Before it was Matthew, now it’s blondie. Whose name I really don’t care to know. I want to keep him in my head just the way I see him now. Disheveled and fucked. And he looks damn good. He pulls out placing me carefully on the floor. I find the heels I kicked off, and slide them on as I stand pulling my dress back down.
He’s pulling the rubber from his cock before he tucks it back into his pants when he looks up at me. He’s smiling, so I smile back and open the door, but as I do his hand captures mine before I leave. “What’s your name?”
It’s a simple question, maybe one that should have been asked before we fucked. I smile pulling my hand free and walking off. He doesn’t follow because he’s still trying to finish dressing. I may have torn a few buttons from his shirt just to see his chest earlier, and I smile as I reach Mel who automatically starts pulling me to the door.
The minute the cold air assaults me, and we get into a cab she drills me. And my smile doesn’t drop.
“Who was that? Tell me he was good? Was he the best? Oh my God, you had sex. Where though? Tell me?” She grabs my arm and squeezes it.
“In a small room and Mel…” she looks at me with big eyes, “… he was a ten.”
She fans herself.
“A ten? We’ve never had a ten. I mean you didn’t even class Matthew as ten, and you loved him.” She’s right, I didn’t.
“He was more than a ten, trust me, Mel. Men like him aren’t made, they’re dreamt about. And that’s where he will stay in my dreams.”
She places a hand up to my face. “Are you telling me you met your ten, and you didn’t get his number? Tell me you got his name at least?” Her hand drops from my face as the car slows down arriving at my house. I pay the driver who’s watching us and get out.
“A ten, Stormi. You got his name? Please, tell me you got his name?”
As we enter the house, I laugh and know she will flip her shit when I tell her I didn’t.
“I didn’t.” Her eyes go wide and she walks back out the door pulling me with her. “What are you doing?” I ask pulling my hand back while she starts waving down another cab.
“We’re going back to get his information, you silly girl. You don’t let a ten walk away from you.”
A cab driver slows down and I wave him off, walking back to my house.
“No, Mel, he’ll stay ‘blondie’ to me. The way he should be.”
“You’re insane. You know that, right?”
“A man shouldn’t be that perfect. He’s bound to have some major skeletons. I want to stay clear of them. Keep him perfect in my head.”
She shakes her head at me. “You’ve lost it, I’m going to check you into the looney bin. You need to go visit, and stay there until you realize how stupid you sound right now.” She walks away then mutters, “A fucking ten.” I laugh at her as I walk to the bathroom.
That’s when I see it and scream. What the fuck.