So Different Page 10

  He walked around to the front of the building, amused again by the choice of the color pink. He entered and found it much different from his first trip here. Lots of loud people greeted his entrance. He spotted Mariah at a table with his buddy Casper and several people he didn’t know.

  Mariah saw him as soon as he walked through the door. Her eyes connected with his, staring into them for a second, before following him as he strolled over to her table. He was dressed casually, shirt untucked, jeans that fit him really nicely, tennis shoes, glasses, and the beautiful eyes that sat behind them.

  “I see you found us this time,” she said.

  “I did,” he said, and then said hello to all those seated around her table. He slid into the end of the booth next to her as she scooted over to make room.

  “I was waiting for you,” she whispered into his ear.

  He smiled. Finally it appeared that she would cooperate, that they were of like mind regarding what tonight would bring. “I was anxious to get here, too,” he said, and smiled again.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Adam sat around the table two hours later, listening and taking in the many faces of her friends; so different from his, so different from the group he’d hung out with in Houston, and with Jamie. He was seated beside Mariah’s teammate Sally. She was dateless, blonde with green streaks, and so not friendly. Even when he’d tried to be nice, she’d been short—bordering on rude. Lisa was nice, along with her husband, a referee, Father Benjamin. He liked Casper from the start and her girlfriend, Amanda, was friendly, too.

  “I can’t believe the Divas beat Thunderstorm,” Sally said.

  “You can’t? I can,” Casper said. “We were off our game tonight. And not taking anything away from us, but the Divas have gotten better,” she said.

  “It’s the two new jammers they found this year,” Lisa said.

  “That and the fact that we took them for granted,” Casper said.

  “If you’re lucky you’ll get to play them again, but you both need to win the remaining games on your schedules first,” Lisa said.

  “Is that fresh popcorn I smell?” Sally asked, interrupting Lisa. Popcorn was the only concession to serving food that Pinky’s made. He had one of those old-fashioned popcorn poppers near the bar, and it popped fresh popcorn covered with butter.

  “Yes.” Lisa said, pushing the arm of her husband to get him up and let her out of the booth.

  “Let’s take a trip to the ladies’ room and get some on the way back,” Sally said.

  Adam watched as the five women headed to the bathroom, leaving him alone with Father Benjamin.

  “So you’re dating Mariah. I didn’t think she dated anyone, and there are more than a few who have tried,” he added and smiled. Adam was quiet.

  “Sure you up to take her on?” he asked. Adam was surprised to find that Benjamin was serious in his questioning.

  “We’re just friends,” he said, letting the look of disappointment that skimmed over Ben’s face pass.

  “So you’re a dentist? Where?” Ben asked, changing the subject.

  “Forty-fifth and Lexus,” he said.

  Ben nodded. “I know the area.”

  “How long have you known Mariah?” Adam asked.

  “Last year she joined my wife’s team,” Ben said. They made more small talk, waiting for the women to return. About twenty minutes later, Ben and Lisa left. They had a sitter they had to relieve. Turns out they had children. Lisa was a roller derby momma in more ways than one.

  * * *

  “So you’re going home with him, right?” Casper asked. It was close to closing, near two, and she was tired. She stood looking at herself in the bathroom mirror one final time.

  “Something like that,” Mariah said, messing with her hair. “You know he watches us like we’re some new kind of people. You see the couple that danced next to us earlier, the guy with the purple spiky hair? I caught Adam checking them out, like it was his first trip to Oz.”

  “So what, Mariah? He doesn’t hang around with us much. So what? I don’t see you hanging around his crew, either, and he’s been nothing but nice tonight, even to Sally the man-hater. So what if he’s used to another group of people? So are you.”

  “It wouldn’t be serious,” she said to Casper, out of the blue, a few minutes later.

  “Really, Mariah? I didn’t know that,” she said, all sarcastic and snarky, her expression incredulous.

  “No, but…”

  “But what?”

  “But nothing, it’s nothing,” she said, walking over to the door and heading out. She walked over to the booth where Adam sat alone, legs stretched out before him. He looked relaxed—and expensive. Casper trailed behind her. Adam looked up as they approached the table, gave her a smile that had her internally sighing. Get a grip, girl, she said to herself as she slid into the booth opposite him. Amanda had gotten up and was now standing next to it.

  “You ready?” Casper asked, looking at Amanda.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “We’re leaving. Would love to close the place down, but some of us have jobs. So Adam, it was nice seeing you again,” she said placing heavy emphasis on the word again. “Hope Mariah lets you stick around a while. If you want to, that is.”

  He smiled. “Nice talking to you again, Casper. Nice meeting you, Amanda,” he said. He and Mariah watched them leave. It was quiet for a while with Mariah sitting across the table from him.

  “Scoot over,” he said, and sat next to her.

  “So why derby?” he asked.

  “Love to skate, good at it, it’s an outlet. Can you skate?” she asked.

  “Never tried. I like watching you skate, though,” he said, his hand taking one of hers, his thigh moving over until it touched hers under the table.

  “What’s not to like? Tits and ass,” she said, smiling. She looked at his hand surrounding hers.

  “Hey, it’s not all that,” he said, chuckling. “Okay, I’m a male. Of course it is, partly anyway, but after that goes away…” He caught her look of disbelief at this remark. “Okay, it doesn’t go away entirely, more like fades into the subconscious, and that other male part takes over.”

  “What other male part?” she asked.

  “The interest in sports, the desire to compete, to watch others compete; that part takes over and we tune in to the bout for different reasons,” he said, a grin in place.

  She laughed and took another drink.

  “Hey, take it easy. I don’t want you too drunk for what follows,” he said, pleased that she was relaxing again.

  She turned to face him. “What follows?” she asked.

  “You and me, after we leave here.”

  “You think so?”

  He nodded, giving her a heated look and it had her catching her breath. He noticed and his smile widened.

  “My place or yours?” he said, leaning into her, his mouth now close to hers, and he touched his lips softly to hers. Her eyes opened, and she stared into his, and he had no idea what she was thinking. He leaned in again, and she didn’t stop him, but she didn’t move toward him, either. He kissed her softly, just a touching of lips, and let them linger there for a minute before pulling back.

  “Let’s go,” Adam said, placing a quick kiss on her lips. Pinky’s had just given the signal for last call, and it was now or never.

  He and Mariah stood up and left through the back door. It was the exit that was closer to where their cars were parked. It was dark with only two lights to mark their way, both near the back door of Pinky’s. They walked side by side until they reached their cars. Standing between them now they were quiet.

  “Come home with me?” he asked, turning to face her, stepping in close, moving his hands to her waist, one on each side, their bodies nearly touching. She didn’t answer, just leaned into him, placing her mouth on his.

  He opened and felt her tongue slide into his mouth, all warm, slender, and smooth, and he groaned before moving in closer until his body
touched hers. His hands moved downward to her hips. He kissed her, nice and slow, mating her tongue gently with his, no particular destination in mind.

  This is nice, she thought. He seemed content, his lips locked with hers, their tongues locked in a smooth and gentle combat while his hands gripped her hips tightly. She moved her arms to surround his neck and loosely locked them together. She then went back to focusing on his mouth and the way it felt on hers.

  She felt his hands slide downward, over her skirt. It was a short skirt and it didn’t take him long to find the end of it and disappear underneath. She felt his hands on her thighs now, a hand for each one, resting at the middle of them, spread-fingered, palms down. They didn’t rest long, but slowly made their ascent to her underwear, stopping at the junction of her thighs now. His thumbs moved over her underwear, a gentle massage over the part of her that was ecstatic, overjoyed, to have his thumbs playing there, while his other fingers firmly gripped her thighs.

  She moaned and he pressed his thumbs into her, needed to hear her moan again, a small sign that she wanted what he wanted. He moved them around and around, so smooth, heard and felt the moan she slipped into his mouth. He pushed her legs open softly with one of his, and his thumbs skimmed under her underwear now, meeting at her center again. This time the pads of his thumbs parted her, skin to skin, so soft, so wet. She moaned again.

  “Open for me,” he whispered into her mouth, and felt her legs give. She leaned or half sat on her car as he parted her legs a little more, allowing him better access. He took advantage of her new position; his thumbs moved over her, soft then firmly, slowly up, growing moist and slowly down and slowly around and around, gliding smoothly over her, moistened by her desire. She groaned again into his mouth, putty in his hands now, holding on tightly to his neck, hoping she wouldn’t choke him. Her other hand was running up and down, squeezing the front of his jeans in some rhythm that made him groan and push into her hand.

  She squirmed and moaned, lost in the feel of his hands creating pleasure she hadn’t experienced in a while, and groaned again at the slow and steady movement of his thumbs as they stroked up and down. Then they circled around, pressing hard and then soft as a feather. She let her head fall to his shoulder, giving up on the kissing part altogether, just letting go, falling under the pressure of her impending climax, which came before she’d prepared for it.

  One long moan seeped from her lips, her breathing catchy, short, as she relaxed against him, her body soft like jelly.

  “Come home with me?” he asked, kissing her lips again. When she lifted her head to stare into his eyes, she responded with, “Your car.”

  “We can take my car. Sure, no problem,” he replied, removing his hands from underneath her skirt and back up to her waist.

  “No, I mean now. Here in your car.”

  “What? My car?” he said, surprised, his eyes widening at her suggestion as he looked around the parking lot.

  “Now?” he asked again.

  “Now,” she replied. He looked around the parking lot once more. It was vacant except for them. Calculations swirled in his head; the lights were near the door, but from where they were, they couldn’t be seen.

  He stepped away, reached into his pocket for his keys, and unlocked his car with the remote. “The back seat,” he said, walking to the front glove compartment to look for a condom, which he found. He opened the door to the back passenger side and slid in. She was there waiting, and he was thankful for her skirt. He sat back, unzipped his jeans, and readied himself, placing the condom on. She removed her panties, reached for him and held him in her hand, stroking him up and down. She took a deep breath at the pleasure that coursed through her body at the thought of him. She moved over him, legs on each side, poised above him, settling on the top of his penis, resting there, her eyes locked on his.

  He groaned but didn’t move, and let her sit there while his hand found the tops of her thighs again. She leaned in to kiss him, and his hands moved upward to her breasts. He hadn’t spent nearly as much time with them as he had envisioned. He felt rushed, and, although he was on board, he would have preferred home, a soft bed, somewhere other than his car. Those thoughts vanished as she pushed downward slowly and then stopped, their gaze still locked. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, his own moans of pleasure accompanied every movement as he lifted her and then lowered her onto him. They moved slowly for a while, her arms around his neck. She pulled back and removed his glasses, setting them on the back dash, and resumed her play at his mouth while his hands moved her up and down. His thumbs made their way back to her core and moved again. She moaned into his mouth. He lifted, then lowered her again, and again, and again.

  He lifted her up and down, slowly increasing in speed. She felt so good wrapped around him, just like he’d imagined she’d feel. He paced himself, wanting this to be good for her again, sliding out in the seat as much as he could. What he wouldn’t give for a bed; but with Mariah, he was learning to go with it, so he prolonged their pleasure for as long as he could. Soon it became too much and he and she were breathing hard, she pushing downward as he pushed up into her, faster, then faster still, both frantic in their search for a climax. Then they felt it coming on, and it was there. They moaned and held on to each other tightly, his arms up under her shoulders, pushing her down onto him, her arms locked around his neck, hanging on for dear life. It took a minute before their breathing slowed and they relaxed their grip.

  It was quiet for a moment. He looked at her face, at her closed eyes, and kissed her lips again. “Come home with me. I have an apartment, with a bed. It’s not quite furnished, but it’s enough for us,” he said softly, continually touching her lips, soft and supple under his, loving the way they felt.

  “I’d better not. I’ve got stuff to do early,” she said, watching the disappointment form in his eyes at her words. She lifted herself off of him and searched for her underwear.

  “When can I see you again?” he asked.

  “You want to see me again? I thought this would be enough. It’s why you’ve been hanging around practices, right? We…you… I mean I… just needed to get that out of our systems. Now you can move on, find the next fiancée and I can…” She stopped, not sure what she’d meant to say. “I’ve gotten that out of my system, and I can move on, too. You weren’t looking for more, were you?” She quickly put her clothes to rights and looked at him questioningly.

  He reached for a napkin, a leftover from some fast food place he’d kept in the compartment next to the passenger seat, removed his condom and cleaned up as best he could.

  “I guess not,” he said, like he was offended by her words. And why should you be? That was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Okay, it could have lasted longer—the whole night perhaps—and he would have preferred that they were in his bed, but apparently with Mariah, beggars couldn’t be choosy. So yeah, he was fine.

  “I’m fine,” he said a few minutes later.

  “Good,” she said, opening the car door and getting out, like she could have taken or left him. It was more than a little disconcerting. He did the same on the opposite door, walking around to the driver’s side of his car, and watched her leave.

  He waited until she drove away before he pulled out and headed to his apartment. He felt a little weird after their encounter, like things had gotten away from him. She was correct. He hadn’t wanted anything more, not really. More time with her, maybe a night or two; hell, maybe a few weeks in light of the incredible way she’d felt wrapped around him just then.

  He didn’t know what to make of her and her reaction to him. She seemed to be there with him in that pleasurable place, yet the indifference toward him afterward left him confused. Let it go, Adam, he told himself. It was what is was—a quick screw in the back seat of a car.

  * * *

  Mariah, Mariah, Mariah, what were you doing? she asked herself as she drove away. That was such a mistake, and in the back seat of a car? Really? Was that the best she could
come up with? What had she been thinking?

  Nothing. She’d lost what little willpower she had with the touch of his thumbs. Just get out your slice of toast and spread her over the top, she’d become the new butter substitute.

  What about him brought out the need to remain in control, to not go easily, even though she wished to? So tonight she’d taken charge. She felt less like a novelty if she took charge, less like everyone else in falling over for him—no using of Mariah, at least not on her watch, not without her awareness of it. But man, that dentist sure knew his way around a body.

  And if she was honest she would admit Adam was so much more that she’d bargained for.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  First week of May

  The following Tuesday Adam found himself outside the door of the Skate-o-torium, where Mariah and her team practiced. What was he doing here again? He’d gotten what he was after, hadn’t he? Guess not, because here he was, attempting to see her again.

  Their encounter in the back seat the other night had made quite the impression, and he clearly needed more time with her. The memories from that evening had persisted enough for him to drive over here after leaving the office.

  He parked and walked inside, going through the lobby. Same as it was the last time—red, worn, and frayed. He entered the doors leading into the rink, a little nervous at seeing her again. He didn’t have any other way of contacting her. She had never given him her number and she’d left before he could muster up enough brain cells to ask the last time they’d been together. He refused to use the office files. That felt weird, and more than a little desperate—and not very ethical, either—so he’d opted to try his luck and just show up. He wasn’t sure if she had kept his card; he had no idea with Mariah.

  He hadn’t cared for the way it had ended, either; she had knocked his ego a bit. She unceremoniously rejected him. She had morphed into one heck of a challenge, and everyone knew that putting your mind to a new task was the quickest way to forget one’s troubles. He wouldn’t share that with her, though, couldn’t tell her, either, that she was just the diversion he needed; their interlude was a confirmation that she was just what he needed. Of course he couldn’t say, You’re perfect, so different, and hopefully even a walk on the wild side. No way could he say, You’re so unlike what I’m used to.