Beth Michele - Scarred Beautiful

“Decent company, huh?” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So…I think I’ll take the stairs in the morning,” I say with a hint of laughter, “wouldn’t want to get stuck on the elevator again.”

Matt digs a fist in his pocket as he glances down at the carpet. “Oh, I don’t know, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No,” I reply, smiling, “it wasn’t bad at all.” On my last word, Matt’s eyes climb to mine and he inches closer. I falter at his sudden proximity.

I watch his hand heading toward my face and my breathing picks up as he smoothes a finger over the arch of my brow, the angle of my cheek, and finally my bottom lip, sending my pulse racing and my stomach into an unfamiliar dance. I realize in this moment that I want him to kiss me…but not because I’m trying to forget, simply because I want to remember.

His nose glides down my cheek and his lips follow, a dance across my skin, and my heart skitters in my chest. Warm breath prickles my flesh, little bubbles of happy rising to the surface. “Goodnight, sunshine,” he whispers, his lips brushing my skin, before he backs away all too soon and pins me with a gaze that’s so unnerving, mostly because I can’t figure it out. It isn’t hungry the way other men look at me, it’s like he’s searching. I wish I knew what he was searching for, because suddenly, I want him to find it.

“Goodnight, Matt,” I call softly, touching my cheek, but he’s already gone.

After I manage to get my head out of the clouds, I make a quick stop to change into something more comfy, stride down the hall to Peyton’s room, and knock loudly on the door. She opens it with a face full of runny black mascara, a red nose, and puffy eyes, not a state I’m used to seeing her in.

“What’s going on? You look dreadful,” I say, trying to lighten the grim atmosphere.

“Gee, thanks a lot,” she replies, putting a bunch of tissues to her nose and blowing it. She perches at the edge of the bed, throwing the used tissues into a pile she’s accumulating on the carpet.

I sit down next to her and hook my arm over her shoulder. “That’s really gross, you know.”

“I know,” she says with a snort, “but I don’t care.”

“So what’s going on? I’ve never seen you this upset. Ever.”

“Well, first off, my sister called earlier today. She said she was so hurt that I didn’t come to celebrate her promotion. I don’t know, I know I was doing it to spite my mom but I didn’t really think about how it would affect her. I didn’t even think she cared that much. I guess I was wrong and now I feel horrible.”

“Okay, so when you get back, you can make it up to her. Take her out to dinner. I’m sure she’d really appreciate that, you know?” I squeeze her arm, pulling her closer to me. “But, what else is bothering you?”

She escapes my grasp and lands back on the bed with a thud, a fresh batch of tears brewing in her eyes. “It’s Caleb. We…we slept together this afternoon,” she mutters through her sobs, hiding her face with both arms.

“Wow, was it that bad?” I joke, lying down next to her.

“HA!” she laughs, a tear sliding down her neck. “It was beyond amazing. The guy’s got mad skills. The way he touched me, the way he held me, I swear I didn’t want to leave his bed.”

“So why did you?”

“Because.…” She releases a harsh breath. “I panicked. He’s got one of those personalities that kind of grows on you…like a weed.” She giggles slightly. “He’s addictive.”

I yawn, the drain of the day finally getting to me. “So what, Peyton? So be addicted for the next couple of days. You’re thinking with your brain. Stop thinking with your brain and just have fun.”

“Listen to you, Dr. Phil.” She turns on her side to face me. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert on relationships.”

A bitter laugh makes its way up my throat. “I’m anything but an expert. All I’m saying is don’t overthink it. Just enjoy it. Live a little.”

She wipes her eyes with another tissue, lobbing it over the bed and onto the Kleenex mound. “Speaking of fun, how was your day?”

I can’t help the grin that turns up my lips. “It was great. We had a good time. Matt took me for a ride on his motorcycle and then cooked for me. He’s…a nice guy.”

“What kind of a ride?” she says, her voice laced with sexual undertones.

I smack her in the arm and she whines, then rubs it. “No, a fully clothed ride, so get your mind out of the gutter.” I hesitate, before adding, “But there’s something about him that tugs at me just a little bit and I can’t put my finger on it.” I sigh, recalling the almost kiss, my skin still warm from his lips. “He almost kissed me and I find myself wishing he had.”

“Well, sweetie, if you ask me, you need to be kissed, and you need to be fu—”

I put my hand over her mouth, thankfully muffling her next words. “Don’t even say it. I’m removing my hand now and I don’t want to hear one word.”

“Fucked.” She clutches her belly as laughter spills from her mouth.

At least she’s not crying anymore.

I wake up with images filtering through my brain like a movie reel on repeat: Fran on my motorcycle, Fran in her wet tank top, Fran with her arms wrapped around me, Fran and her full lips inches from my mouth. Fuck. My whole body is blanketed in sweat and my dick is hard, tenting the sheet that’s covering my body. I scrub my hands over my face. What the fuck am I doing?

I let out a frustrated moan before dragging my legs over the edge of the bed and managing to get up, surprisingly without my dick weighing me down. Jesus. I walk briskly into the bathroom, determined to get rid of the crazy thoughts consuming me. Turning the shower on and stepping in, I brace one hand against the tile wall, trying to get my breathing under control, letting the water drip down my hair, my back, my thighs…but she’s everywhere and I can’t get away from her if I tried. My thoughts jump to her breasts. I envision them, perfectly round and supple as I run my tongue over her nipples, flicking and teasing them until they become tight little buds. My hand goes to my cock, so hard it’s almost painful, and I begin to stroke myself slowly. I can practically smell the jasmine on her skin, see my fingers running down her spine to the soft curve of her ass, and hear her moan. I close my eyes and imagine reaching around to part her lips, sliding a finger inside, finding her soaked, then dropping to my knees because I desperately want a taste of her. The muscles in my jaw go slack and I start to groan with need while my hand moves faster as I visualize my face between her thighs, the sweet scent of her arousal intoxicating me as I suck on her clit and she clutches at my hair, pulling me closer, wanting me deeper. My breathing becomes ragged, my hips jutting forward, and as I picture my tongue licking her swollen pussy, my orgasm rips through me and I growl Fran’s name.

After standing under a hot stream of water for another few minutes and letting my breathing even out, I dry off so I can quickly dress, feeling somewhat better. It’s not the real thing, but it’ll have to do for now. I pull a pair of black pants down from the hanger and decide on a green dress shirt. The color instantly reminds me of Fran’s eyes and I smile, thinking about the glow she had just before I sprayed her. That was fun. But that leads me to thinking about her hardened nipples poking through the sexy little top she had on, and that’s where I have to stop. I can’t walk around with another hard-on all day.

I reluctantly shake off the thought and finish getting dressed, and while strapping my watch around my wrist, I notice it’s 7:45 a.m. I’m just about to give Caleb a ring in his room when I hear his voice through the door. When I open it, I find him leaning against the frame, his jacket over his shoulder, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Hey, man,” he says, still wearing the same smile.

“Hey, come on in, and what’s with the face? Should I take it to mean you had a good day yesterday?”

He lays his jacket on the couch and takes a seat next to it. “You can take it to mean I had a great day, that Peyton is like a sex goddess.”

I chuckle at Caleb’s unique way with words. “Sex goddess, huh?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what happened. Things were going really well, yet afterwards, she got all weird and took off. I tried to talk to her, but she said she had to go.”

“Actually, come to think of it, she called Fran saying she was upset, so we came back so Fran could check on her.” I finish putting on my shoes and take out my briefcase to sort through some notes.

“Maybe I was too hot to handle,” Caleb says with a laugh that’s quickly followed by a frown. “I don’t know, we were having a good time. I’ll ask her again when I see her today. So what happened with you?”

“Just another day in the life,” I say nonchalantly. “First I got stuck in the elevator with a gorgeous woman, and then we went for a motorcycle ride and I cooked her dinner.”

“Wait, back up,” Caleb orders, a stunned look in his pale blue eyes. “You cooked? No Chinese takeout? And when was the last time you even rode that motorcycle I’ve been begging you to sell to me?”

I drop a stack of papers on the bed that suddenly don’t seem all that important, and take a seat on the couch. “There’s something about her Caleb. She makes me want to step outside myself. It’s like…I don’t know…like she’s one big dare to who I am. And you know how I respond to dares.”

“Well, she’s definitely fiery,” Caleb agrees, before standing up and sliding on his suit jacket. “It’s good for you. You need to break out, stop alphabetizing all your shit.” He chuckles and I sneer at him. “Before I forget, do you want to drive over to my parents’ after the conference for a little bit? My mom called me last night and she’s ready to divorce my dad. He’s exceptionally crabby still and she’s having a hard time. She hinted at having her sons over.”

I love the fact that Caleb’s mom refers to me as her son because for years I’ve considered her a second mother. No one can ever replace mine, but Mrs. Brody definitely comes close. The amount of times she’s been there to hold my hand and offer a hug or advice, starting when I was a gawky sixteen-year old until now, means that I owe her my life. This is the least I can do for her.

“Absolutely,” I reply, “and why don’t we stop and pick up one of those apple pies your dad likes from that bake shop over on Beverly Boulevard, maybe that’ll put him in better spirits.”

“That sounds good. Thanks.” Caleb makes a beeline for the door. “Let’s get out of here. I want to seek out my sex goddess.”

And I want to go find my little spark.

The Los Angeles sun glows brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows in my room and I don’t want to open my eyes. I know it’s time to get up even though my alarm hasn’t gone off yet, but my dream about Matt was too good and I don’t want it to end. I lift his t-shirt to my nose and inhale, still smelling his fresh scent. My fingers go to my lips, recalling the way he kissed me…in my head. I let out a frustrated sigh and stretch my tired muscles. I’d give anything to stay in bed just a little bit longer and daydream about Matt.

I’m showered, dressed, and ready to head down to breakfast in thirty-five minutes, which is a record for me. I’ll admit to spending a little more time in front of the mirror than usual. A little extra lip gloss, some eyeliner to make my eyes pop, and a tad more color on my cheeks. I towel-dried my hair, too, to give it a little wave. I’m leaving it down today, especially since Matt was running his fingers through it in my dream. I look at my reflection and laugh. I’m being ridiculous but even I can’t deny that ridiculous feels good.

I throw on a thin strand of pearls, grab my portfolio, and stroll out to the elevators. I stop halfway down the hall, deciding to take the stairs, but then realize that would be twenty-two flights and while I’m in shape, it would be killer in heels. Instead, I ride the elevator down to the first floor and hold my breath the entire way, releasing it only once I’ve stepped off.

The banquet hall is set up in the traditional conference style with long, rectangular tables covered in white tablecloths. There are ten rows that seat about fifteen people to a table and carafes of water situated in the center located at every other seat. To the left of the tables is a breakfast area, complete with assorted foods: bagels, fruit, croissants, danishes, and a variety of juices.