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https://mbblissett.com/2020/05/11/nothing-keeps-me-anywhere-by-dahlia-bliss/

CHAPTER 7

‘I’d like to continue talking to you.’

She gave a pinched smile. Her arms wrapped around my middle. Our wet bodies fitted well together, and my fingers raked through her dripping hair.

We left the water only when we pruned.

We found one another during the hours before dawn again. My fingers stroked her to a gentle orgasm that made her cling to me and swear into the night air.

It was around six before she woke me with coffee. She had showered and was in her uniform. As she passed me the cup, she asked what was wrong.

‘It’s strange seeing you like that.’

She frowned as she blew over her coffee.

‘You should see me fight.’

I nodded.

‘When are you fighting?’

She shook her head as she took a long sip of her coffee.

‘Don’t. I like you, but don’t say things you don’t mean.’

My smile was a challenge to her.

‘Try me.’

She got out her phone.

She gave me the date and my expression remained unchanged.

‘What time?’

She shook her head.

‘You’re so full of shit.’

My smile widened as she frowned, unsure of how to read my intention.

‘Try me.’

She told me the time. There was space in my schedule and seeing her again appealed to me.

‘I want to hang out with you again.’

She grinned as she shook her head. I watched the colour come to her cheeks again.

‘You’re so, so full of shit.’

Then she turned and kissed me with her hand against my chest as she put her cup down.

She got a condom from the chest and came back to me as she reached beneath her skirt and tugged her underwear down her full thighs.

She looked at me, gave me a grin that made my cock throb with want.

‘I want to feel you real close before I have to take you back.’

She squatted over me as she reached between her legs and placed me inside her.She was already wet and we fucked through the tender soreness from last night. My fingers grabbed her hair, but she touched my face and shook her head.

‘Not in the uniform.’

Our orgasms made us close our eyes to one another and her fingers bit into my shoulders. The stolen urgency was rocket fuel to our nervous systems as we shuddered together. We were a languid, soft eyed knot of tangled underwear and tender flesh.

 

Chapter 8

She dropped me off outside the hotel before she drove around to the staff car park. Ben sauntered up the steps beside me. He had an affable grin and his t-shirt was inside out.

‘Good night?’

There were black circles of fatigue beneath his eyes. He nodded.

‘Is she working today?’

He nodded and then smirked at me.

‘I didn’t sleep.’

A clap on his shoulder and a grin made him stand up and smile at me.

‘A gentleman keeps it to himself.’

He nodded as he looked through the hotel. He rubbed his stomach and suggested breakfast.

Terry omitted the bruise at his temple as he sipped his coffee. A cold, hard stare and then he turned and made conversation with one student.

 

CHAPTER 9

My phone pinged with notifications that people had placed orders for the additional materials and courses.

‘Thought you’d LEFT.’

She brought me over coffee.

‘I’m in no hurry.’

She grinned.

‘It’s strange to look at you and not get to touch you.’

She shrugged as she shook her head.

Something came to her and she was about to speak when a customer caught her eye and she rolled her eyes for my benefit. A quiet glow of pleasure went through me as I scrawled a brief message on a napkin and folded it beneath the plate. Our eyes met across the room. She gave a slow wink before she carried on taking the order of the elderly couple who peered at the menu with a fragile intensity.

Packing was brief, resting my case on the undisturbed bed as the sunlight reflected off the water glass with the napkin still artfully arranged inside it.

Terry was arguing with the receptionist as I set the key card on the counter. He looked me up and down before he shook his head and returned to jabbing his index finger at the receptionist again. She had a resigned expression on her face and a pang of sympathy went through me.

‘Namaste.’ I said.

It’s amazing how even spiritual sentiment can sound like fuck you if you intend it accordingly.

With his left hand below the field of vision of the receptionist, he raised a hand.

‘John. A moment of your time,’ he said.

I shook my head again and walked outside.

He hurried towards me and as we stood outside; the cigarettes came out.

‘I didn’t really feel you were present with the guys this weekend.’

Inhaling the smoke as Andrea’s observations returned to me, then a brief nod to acknowledge the statement.

‘I’ve been refining things a little. Trying to make it less about me, and more about them.’

He winced and shook his head.

 

‘These manlets don’t pay to make it about them. We validate them, your -’ he pointed his index finger at me. ‘personal brand, my personal brand is what they pay for.’ he said

‘Then tell them to spend their money on a good pizza and a fleshlight if that’s really what you think.’ I said.

He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes as he sucked on the cigarette. He patted me on the shoulder and I bit back the flinch that came to me.

‘John, has the little tough girl got inside your head? Thought we’d trained that out of you?’

My eyes narrowed as I turned to face him.

‘Terry. I defend you to the hilt,’

He smirked and my hands balled into fists. Terry was tall and lean, with overlong grey hair and a beard so he could appropriate that fuckable swami look. A vision of his beard matted with his blood flashed before my eyes, but it passed before it seduced me.

‘John, all that matters is what you produce. You’re sleepwalking through this shit and it hurts all of us.’

My eyes narrowed.

‘You know her?’

His eyes widened and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed like a Yoyo.

‘Who?’

A slight crack in his voice.

‘So, did you fuck her or try to fuck her?’

He raised his eyebrows and clapped me on the shoulder again.

‘John, the problem with sleepwalking is that you’re never sure of where you might wake up. That attitude is a direct path to the land of wind and ghosts.’

My grimace at the casual, lazy appropriation he used did not sway him.

‘Hey.’ He grinned. ‘You’ll come back, no matter what barriers you put up.’

He lifted his arms to hug me, but my expression stopped him.

‘Namaste, Terry. See you soon,’

He lowered his arms and flicked his hair back as he nodded.

‘We will see, John. A lot can happen between one moment and the next.’

He walked back inside, the cigarette stub still lit where he had tossed it aside. With the heel of my shoe, I ground it out, finding a grim measure of satisfaction in it.

Sympathetic magic, but it occurred to me that sometimes you can confuse the heel and the cigarette.