Lost In Rewind (Audio Fools #3) Page 15

  “Talking in Your Sleep” by The Romantics

  This girl is smart—a sexy kind of smart that you don’t see coming. She reminds me of Sara more than I care to admit. It’s crazy to think that I didn’t even know she existed a few days ago, and now she’s all I think about. Her essence, her voice, her thought process, even the lingering memory of her scent has slowly oozed into me and has now become familiar. Her grandmother is a baffling mystery that has piqued my curiosity to impossible heights. With every word from Kali, she becomes an even bigger conundrum. Why the fuck would she talk to me that night? Why did she hand me a freaking key to her goddamn home, a talisman, she called it? It makes zero sense. If I was confused about her words before, I’m at an even bigger loss right now.

  While I ponder the reasoning for being given a reading by elusive Joella Gitanos, I finally close my heavy lids and shut off my brain and pray for sleep.

  I feel Kali slide from under my arm and move her body to straddle my stomach. Fuck yeah. She’s completely naked, which is screwing with my current thought process and I can’t recall what the hell I was thinking about or the last thing either of us said. I’m not sure about anything, except that this is not where our relationship needs to go right now. I need her to allow me to keep all my blood in my brain and not lose it to my dick. I need to think and make sense of everything.

  I put both my arms behind my head. I swear I won’t touch her. “Just do me a favor and don’t make any sudden movements or come in contact with my dick,” I say the last coherent thought in my head before I become a stuttering, inarticulate fool. “I have zero self control or condoms left. Understood?” I manage to expel, but I’m already hard, so I doubt my noble speech will have any lasting affect.

  She nods and immediately un-straddles me without uttering a single word. I’m such a stupid fuck. It’s just that she makes me forget everything. I can’t think straight around her; I wouldn’t even recognize myself. I think I’ve hurt her feelings, again, with my idiotic, self-righteous outbursts. When a young, gorgeous girl that you’ve had the pleasure to previously fuck sits on you with her bare pussy, you shut the fuck up and let her do whatever she wants, for the love of God.

  “I’m sorry, Kali, it’s not that I don’t want you sitting on me, or riding me, or doing whatever the fuck you want to me, it’s just that you’re making it hard to function. I haven’t been with a woman like this in over two years, and before that, it wasn’t like this. It was with someone I had a long, painful history with.”

  She continues to nod, clearly pissed, clearly not understanding that I like her way too much, way too soon. She looks away from me, turning her body toward the window.

  “You’re right, let’s try and keep this nonsexual. We don’t want the dorm advisor finding out about us. We still have lots to talk about and time is running out.”

  A minute later, she practically jumps out of bed and walks over to my mirrored armoire in the corner of the room. She has her enticing ass out for me to drool over as she finds one of Jacky’s dresses to cover her naked body with. She turns around with her outstretched arms for me to inspect and approve her chosen garment, but I’m no longer lying down. I stand by the bed, watching her with a smile that only the devil should be allowed to wear. I knew this would happen. I can’t keep my hands off her, especially when she shows me how much she wants me to touch her.

  I come at her with such speed that could only be explained as manic and superhuman. A beat later, I have her pinned against the armoire. She’s breathless, trying to suck up whatever air is left in the room. I ingest the sounds she makes. I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite. I’m the same man who just asked her to cool it, and now I have her pinned to the mirrored door, rocking my erect dick into her.

  “You want to kill me, don’t you?” I mumble, frantically inhaling the thin fabric around her chest. I squeeze her nipples through the tight dress around her tits, breathing her in as if I’m drowning and she is my last gulp of air before I go under. I am once again lost in a sea of lust that starts and ends with her. “I think you’re a fucking witch—a perfect, beautiful, sexy witch that wants to kill me.”

  I continue to kiss and bite down her stomach. I fall to my knees while my hands can’t help but find her smooth legs from under the dress. She knows where my hands will end up. She closes her eyes and lets her head roll back against the mirror, moaning in anticipation.

  “My mouth wants to do some fucking, is that all right?” I ask the question that my mouth is obviously not going to wait for the answer to. My head is already under her dress as my mouth waters the second I smell her arousal. I haven’t done this to anyone in over a decade, but all I want is to kiss, lick, and suck every inch of her.

  I start my attack soft and tender, but the second my fingers plunge and feel her wetness, I let my mouth do exactly what it wants—fuck her pussy. It’s not gentle, it’s anything but tender, it’s hard and rough and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt in my life to eat her out like a savage.

  I lift her leg and place it over my shoulder to get my tongue farther into her, if that’s even possible. Every time I gently bite her clit, she makes this sound that literally reaches my dick, making it pulse. She takes hold of my hair for balance as I grab her ass with both hands and pump her into my mouth. I feel her trembling in my hands and shaking around my tongue, which means I need to make my beautiful enchantress a bit more comfortable to help her come. Who fucking knew that oral sex could feel this incredible?

  I slide my hand up her back, and without stopping my X-rated wet feast, I get up from the floor, lifting her up with me in the air as if she’s weightless and I’m some kind of Hercules. I bring us back to the bed and lay her down. I feel young, carefree, and euphoric; I’m strung up and high on Kali. I can’t believe I’m on the receiving end of her stare. She’s looking at me with everything I’ve ever wanted a girl to look at me with. I don’t see pain. There are no broken promises, no regrets, no time limit, no guilt, and no disappointment in her gaze. All I see in her expressive eyes is something between need and love.

  I drop back on my knees as I continue to shower her with hungry laps of my tongue and lips. I can’t get enough of her. I spread her legs as far as they will go and move back to look at her sprawled out before me. Fucking perfect. As I take a moment to catch my breath and look down at her, I realize it’s Sara I’m with, and not Kali.

  I’m a monster.

  How did I get here? I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t ask for this.

  “You see what you do to me, Sara? I become a fucking animal around you. I don’t even know who I am right now,” I say with something resembling revulsion in my voice. I’m embarrassed by my lack of self-control as I wipe her wetness from my mouth and chin.

  I see the tears running down her cheeks, and then notice the blood running down her legs and covering my hands. She won’t take her eyes off me when she speaks.

  “I won’t let you ruin this. You can’t ruin real love.”

  “I won’t let you ruin this. You can’t ruin real love.”

  Why would she let me touch her after everything I’ve done to her?

  I jump up as if free falling and wake up drenched in sweat, crying like a baby. It takes me a few minutes to calm my racing heartbeat and erase my horrific dream from my mind. I practically run into my bathroom, remove my wet T-shirt and boxers, and discard them. I’m still hard as I turn the shower on and let the cold water wash away the taste of Kali, the blood of Sara, the memory of Jacqueline, and the endless guilt I live with every day.

  “Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Bonnie Tyler

  I wake up with him on my mind and quickly find my phone and swipe to his picture to see his eyes again. He’s technically not married; his wife passed away. He was here with me in my bed, and yet I still feel like I shouldn’t want him, like I’m doing something wrong. Three days ago, I was being consumed by him, and now the eyes that glare back at me through the screen have a kind of warning
etched in them.

  This feeling, these emotions are why I stay away from boys, men, or anybody who tries to flirt with me. The young ones are just looking for a good time, and the older ones don’t know what the hell they want. Jeff Rossi doesn’t fit any one of my categories, and those eyes of his are still telling me to run. Maybe he’s right—I’m better off not knowing his sordid tale.

  I feel my phone vibrate in my hands as I read my screen with a smile.

  -I wish we never met and that you just kicked me out of your bar-

  His text interrupts my thoughts. I can’t look away from his words—I stare in disbelief with tears running down my face. I try to close my eyes and move as far away from the phone and him as possible, but I can’t. It’s like I’m glued to him through our only form of communication. My grand-mère made a terrible mistake; he’s just another guy, a stupid, insensitive nothing!

  And then a moment later, he sends, -I’m sorry- No, you’re not. I chime in my head as I finally will my eyes to close. My pride wins, it can’t look at his words anymore. I’ve failed in my attempt to read between the lines and his mixed signals. It’s clear what he thinks of me, and he’s right—I should’ve kicked him out. I pry open my tightly shut lids, and manage to type out,

  -I figured you out, Jeff. You blame everybody around you and make them feel bad for your actions. It’s who you are. I was hoping you were special, but you’re not. I don’t care about the stories inside your head anymore. I have my own problems, and you’re only making things worse. Goodbye-

  I scream the last word out on the inside, on the verge of a massive panic attack. My body stiffens as chills spread like wildfire covering every exposed inch; every pore within me knows it’s over. My head is beyond confused. I’m mortified with my feelings, disappointed with his behavior, but more than that, I’m heartbroken that it finished before it even began.

  The reality of him going silent on me and taking with him all hope of ever finding out the reason Joella spoke to him strangles me. The fact that Jeff Rossi will soon cease to exist in my lonely world forces me to sprint off the cold bed and symbolically pretend to leave him first.

  My attempt to escape the room and him first fails when the sound of my phone ringing halts my exit. I stand by the door and listen to it ring, over and over.

  I won’t answer.

  He’s not for me. He will just cause more pain. The phone stops ringing as the sound of a new text begins to ping.

  I won’t look.

  His words are meaningless. My internal battle stops when my phone becomes silent. No more calls, no more texts. I walk back toward my unkempt bed and circle my cell phone as if it’s a wild dangerous animal, and in many ways that’s exactly what it is. It has the power to rip me apart.

  His last text is prominently displayed on my locked screen.

  -I’m a fuck up. I can’t seem to get anything right. Please let me explain. It’s not what it sounds like. I don’t even know why I said that. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m crazy for you. I need you. Please let me explain what I meant-

  I hear the plea and the turmoil sheath every word that stares back out at me. I know if I listen to the voice message he’s left I’ll hear the remorse in his tone. Yet despite my heart’s recognition of the danger, I still pick up my phone to look at his words closer, because my self-preservation mode has been turned off from the moment our lips touched.

  I look at his photo again, like a silly schoolgirl admiring her latest crush. Eyes, his eyes tell stories of dozens of love affairs, and foolishly, I pray to be one of them. Stupidly, I hope to be lost in those eyes for as long as fate will allow me. I’m not thoughtless, I understand that the kind of maddening desire I feel for this man I just met won’t end well, and the potential of him leaving scars inside me is absolute. But walking away and ignoring him doesn’t seem like an option.

  I haven’t made up my mind if I’ll ever talk to him again, but my heart knows; it recognizes his and won’t allow us to separate, not yet. Another text from Jeff pops on my screen.

  -If you only knew how confounded I am by the things I feel for you … I have no right to feel anything, but I feel so much. Please, don’t throw me out. Let me talk to you. There’s an urgency inside me that needs to tell you everything-

  I’m lost in his words, in his story, and in his world, which I feel I belong in. Lost and found, I guess you could say.

  Wordlessly, I wrap my arms around my waist and give my poor body a hug. There is no room for my ego or my pride today. My heart is running this spectacle. I let out a long, defeated breath. Look at me—a confused, curious fool who can’t let go of hope. How far will I go to satisfy the curiosity he ignited?

  -Kali, please let me hear your voice-

  His texts sound as if he may be suffering just as much as I am. I decide to type back a reply. He obviously knows I’m reading his messages, and I’m not about to start playing games.

  My fingers seamlessly type out candid words that my common sense tries but fails to block. -I don’t know what to say to you. Every part of my body is at conflict. I want you and I don’t, I like you and I don’t, I want you to leave me alone … but I don’t. I have no idea what this is-

  I wish he were here for me to see his reaction and talk this out.

  -I’m sorry for making you feel that way. You’re a smart, incredible woman who only deserves respect. Please forgive me. I’ll make sure I’m clearer next time on what I mean. I had a horrible nightmare. It’s not an excuse for being a total piece of shit, but that’s the truth. I didn’t mean what I said. I only meant you have me so twisted up inside … I can’t think straight ever since I met you. I only wanted you to know how lost I am without you-

  I fight back the smile his words give me, hesitantly accepting his apology. He hadn’t meant to belittle or offend me, but his words betrayed him and did so anyway, no matter how he’d meant them to come out. I ponder if his bad dream had to do with his past demons or me?

  I walk out of my bedroom and head to the kitchen to make some coffee and try and put this morning train wreck behind me.

  -How do you like your coffee?- I inquire in an attempt to get us away to a safer, superficial type of conversation.

  -I like it dark, sweet, with a slice of lemon-

  My face twists in disgust.

  Almost as if being able to see my facial expression he adds: -Don’t knock it until you try it-

  I smile at his ability to read me through texts.

  -Let’s make a deal, don’t ever make me try your coffee and I’ll never make you listen to my music-

  I laugh to myself. We don’t need to make any promises, I’m one hundred percent sure we’ll never see each other again. This has been too complicated, and I’m not even sure it’s healthy.

  -I didn’t mean what I said to you before about not liking to listen to the sound of a violin. Any music is beautiful, especially if it means something to the person you love-

  It’s clear in my mind that his words are not intended for my sake, but more so for his. I’m certain there’s a story behind his text, and maybe I will one day hear it. I look at my phone and press the call back button, because deep inside, my heart already decided that Jeff Rossi and I are not finished, and I’m convinced that the heart is always right.

  “She’s Like The Wind” by Patrick Swayze

  I can’t run away from this or her, and I won’t let myself make a mess of things like I always do. She deserves the truth. Whether her reaction will have a shit effect on me or not, she earned the right to hear about her grandmother’s words, like I’ve promised. She has put up with my mixed signals since the day we met, and there is no way I can just leave her alone and pretend we never met. I can’t stop thinking and dreaming about her for the love of God. I fear I’ve become obsessed with her.

  I walk to the kitchen to make myself coffee. I look down at my phone, clutched tight in my hand; this is my subconscious attempt to hold onto her. I wait for a reply as if I wa
it for my sentence to be read by the judge. I busy myself with my coffee while I sit at the kitchen counter and continue to wait. I look around the grand opulent space I call home and realize it has become increasingly cold without my wife. I think about Kali’s cozy little apartment and recall how warm and familiar it felt. I’ve done this already. I’ve carved out an imaginary world with a girl to escape my harsh reality, and here I am once again. Until Kali knows everything about Sara Klein and me, she won’t know anything.

  I see a text come through asking me how I take my coffee. I look at my dark coffee and can’t help but smile at her line of questioning. I playfully type back my response, tempted to send her a picture of the slice of lemon floating in my black coffee as I long to hear her voice and kiss the sadness my callous words have caused.

  My phone begins to ring and her perfect face fills the screen as if God heard my plea. If her just calling can have this kind of effect, I can only imagine what her voice will have the power to do to me.

  “Thank you, thank you for giving me another chance,” is the first thing I say as I clutch the phone to my ear, beyond thankful for the opportunity to still speak to her. She’s silent—all I hear is the sound of my own heartbeat.

  She clears her throat and softly adds, “No worries, Jeff. This shouldn’t be personal.” Her voice cracks—along with my heart—when she says my name. “I want to hear more about you and Jacky. I still can’t understand why you said there were two sides to your story. Did you remarry someone else?” Kali fires off questions, which I can’t yet answer. I ought to calm her concerns, but I need to tell this tale my way. I halfheartedly continue with the story of my life.