Too Close: Plantain Series Novella Read online

  I join the other people not playing and also just watching the game, and get to the side where Emily will be able to see me. She’s incredibly focused on the game, and what she’s doing. It’s like watching an artist or something. She’s flips the cards and deals them like she’s been doing this forever, and it seems so flawless and natural for her. Someone wins the hand and she collects the cards, looking up for the first time, and then over at me. Her eyes look away quickly, before darting back to mine. I give her a smile and know she recognizes me, but she does nothing more than glance before she’s beginning the new game. Before she can start dealing, a man dressed like her comes up from behind and they exchange words before she’s slipping around him and heading to the employees only area. As before, I follow, checking to make sure no one sees me as I open the door. Also like before I sense she’s out back smoking, and head for the door marked exit. Seeing her standing there against the wall as she lights her cigarette, again is déjà vu. As soon as the door closes behind me, she smiles but doesn’t look at me.

  “This is a coincidence,” she says, and I’m relieved she doesn’t seem annoyed.

  “A very lucky coincidence,” I tell her, trying to hide my mile-wide grin.

  “Lucky?” she asks with raised brows and a teasing tone of her voice.

  “Yeah, I like you, that makes you lucky,” I say, standing in front of her.

  She lets out a little laugh. “You like me, you don’t even know me.”

  “I don’t have to, I can tell right away if I like someone or not, and you’re lucky because I don’t usually like anyone.”

  For the first time, her eyes meet mine. I’ve been told I have ‘teasing eyes,’ which some people assume is me being an asshole, and bullshitting them or something. I can tell she sees I’m not playing, though she doesn’t seem to like my words.

  “You want to fuck me, just say that. You don’t need to lay on this ‘I like you,’ bullshit, just be honest.”

  She inhales her cigarette and looks away from me. I like her no-bullshit way, but I’m not just feeding her a line, I’m being completely honest. Although, I would also like to fuck her.

  “Okay, so if I wanted to fuck, then what?” My voice dropping as my eyes remain on her face, she’s still not looking at me.

  “Then I say, meet me after my shift,” she states bluntly, looking up at me.

  A moment later, she’s pressing the toes of her shoes over the spent butt of the cigarette and walking passed me. I blink, unsure as to what just happened, and if she’s serious.

  “Oh,” she stops as she pulls the door open, “find a place for us to go, I’m not taking you back to my house.”

  3

  Smokey

  As I sit at the bar and wait for Emily to finish her shift, which I have no idea when that is, I call and make a hotel reservation in the meantime. I pick the nicest hotel, a suite. I’m not sure if Emily wants to stay at the place she works at, or if that’s even allowed. But for some reason, I don’t want it to be like this. Of course I’m down to fuck her, but I was being honest when I said I liked her. There’s something about her that has me interested in knowing her. If she’s always so on guard, or just with random guys who stalk her at work.

  I turn in my chips since I didn’t gamble and get my cash back, asking the guy at the counter if the hotel I booked is within walking distance. I have my bike, and I’d love to get her on the back of it. But I’m not sure if her skirt will allow her to sit comfortably, but then I remember her heels and wonder if she will be up for walking. I decide that if she doesn’t want to walk, I’ll just hail a cab for us. It seems like I’m at the bar for hours, I started drinking beer, but after four, I switched to water. I’m ten waters in at least, when I feel a tap on my shoulder. My first reaction is that it’ll be the casino security kicking me out for not gambling and not buying alcohol. But when I turn to see who it is, it’s Emily. She has on a little black jacket, but her work clothes on underneath.

  “So, where are we going?” she asks this like she’s not interested in sitting for a while at the bar, but urgent to just leave.

  “I got us a room, the hotel’s down the street,” I tell her, standing and throwing a hundred-dollar bill on the bar for a tip.

  She eyes my bill, then looks away. I outstretch an arm for her to lead the way out, and she begins for the main exit of the casino. I follow her, the crowd too thick and she’s walking too quickly for me to actually walk alongside her. But she stops when we get out to the street and I nod in the direction we need to go and we finally walk side by side.

  “You want me to get a cab?” I ask.

  “No,” she says quickly.

  I don’t really know what to talk about since she clearly isn’t interested in talking. We walk a few blocks, and then I notice her begin to walk not so fast. Looking over, she has a pained look on her face.

  “You okay?”

  “Mhmm,” she nods.

  I know it’s her shoes, and I can see the hotel just up ahead. So I stop and urge her to stop too with my hand on her bicep. She looks at me without understanding. Without a word, I bend down and pick her up, cradling her.

  “What?” she begins.

  “Your feet obviously hurt, and you’re too stubborn to say so, so I’ll carry your difficult ass.”

  “I’m fine, you’re ridic-”

  “Shut up, and just hold onto me,” I say, restarting the walk for the both of us.

  After a moment, her arm wraps around my shoulder. Something inside makes me happy she’s not fighting me. When we enter the hotel I set her down, and she adjusts her skirt after righting herself. After making sure she’s all set, I lead us toward the front desk and check in. Emily stands behind me as I get the room key and I extend an arm for her to lead the way to the elevators.

  “You need me to carry you?” I offer.

  “No,” she says, lifting her chin. “I got it.”

  I smile to myself at her resilience, and this is the reason I really want to know her. She walks ahead of me to the elevator bank and hobbles a little as she quickens her pace for an opened one. The ride up is silent, but I don’t feel the need to speak. In a weird way, she calms me, settles me even. Usually, my head is moving a million times a minute, but with her, it’s not like that.

  The door dings before opening and we make our way down to the suite. As soon as we get inside, she immediately takes a seat at one of four tucked around a table. Tossing the keys onto the table, I kneel in front of her, taking her heels off each foot slowly and looking up at her bewildered expression. Resting her feet on my thighs, I take one and begin rubbing the arch and her toes with both my hands. Her nails are painted a bubble gum pink and I want to suck on them. With each motion of my hands, I feel her relax and melt in my palms. Her eyes flutter before we both look down at what I’m doing. I venture higher with one hand, to her ankle and her calf. Her skin’s soft and smooth, fucking heavenly. Emily lets out a little sigh that makes my cock begin to firm, and just to tease her, I set her foot back down and take her other foot and begin again.

  “You don’t have to-” she begins, but her words fade on her lips.

  I smirk and continue my massage. After a few minutes, and after trying to keep this PG, I can’t anymore. I can smell her, feel her getting turned on and I want to feel her warmth on my fingers. This time, I don’t stop at her calf but move up to her knee. My fingers graze over the top of her tan thigh and we lock eyes. She’s breathing fast, like me, her eyes glazed as I feel mine are too. Then my hand disappears under her skirt, and my fingertips explore until they reach the apex of her leg. They glide down to where panties should be, but there’s nothing there. The idea of her not having anything on under her skirt has my dick aching inside my pants. When I feel her soft pubic hair, she whimpers and bites her lower lip. My index finger nudges her clit, the soft perfection of her body, warm and begging to be played with. Her legs spread as best she can in the confining fit of her skirt, but it allows me a little more
access. My breath stutters as I venture further and find her wet folds, and her sopping entrance.

  “Oh fuck,” I breathe out.

  One finger slides inside, she feels like a jar of warm honey as it coats my fingers. Removing my hand I bring my drenched fingers to my mouth and taste her, groaning at her flavor. She watches me with rapt attention, her mouth open as her hips grind and quickly I return my fingers. This time, I thrust two in and lean up onto my knees for better leverage. Her eyes drift shut as her hands grip the seat of the chair. I pump my hand in and out, my thumb petting her clit and again her hips grind and circle. She’s using my hand and I love it. My eyes dart from her breasts heaving, stretching her shirt. Her tongue licking her lips, her eyes closed as her head tilts back. I increase my pace and bite my lip, wanting it to be her nipple instead, but don’t want to take the time to remove her shirt and bra.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” she chants as her muscles tighten and she covers my fingers in cum.

  I slow my hand, just before she’s reaching for my wrist for me to stop. In this moment, I want to distance myself, and I don’t even understand why. Maybe I think she’ll leave, and I don’t want her to go. So I stand and walk into the kitchen, not bothering to wash my hands, I like feeling her on me and smelling her. I grab the menu sitting on the counter and flip through it, finding what I want to eat.

  “You like burgers?” I ask.

  “What?” she says once, then clears her throat and asks again a little louder.

  “You like burgers?” I repeat, this time over my shoulder.

  “Sure, I like burgers,” she says a little dazed.

  Picking up the hotel phone, I order two burgers and fries with Cokes from room service. When I turn to face her, she’s righted her skirt and is sitting there, looking around the room. Before she can tell me she’s leaving or doesn’t want dinner, I walk into the master bedroom, into the bathroom, turning the bath water on. I don’t know if she likes bubbles, but I think chicks like that shit, so I empty the whole complimentary bottle into the hot water. This time when I see her, she’s standing and looking a little lost in the living room.

  “I started a bath for you,” I tell her.

  She looks at me oddly.

  “I figured for your feet, and you’ve been working all day…I don’t know.”

  I stop talking because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing or why, I just don’t want her to leave.

  “Thank you, yeah a bath would be really nice actually.”

  Her words calm my raging thoughts, and I look up to see her smiling thoughtfully at me.

  “Take your time,” I tell her.

  She walks past me and of course I watch her, wanting more of her honey, but I can wait. When she enters the bathroom, I hear her laugh and the water turn off. I walk in and see the bubbles towering over the water, I guess I put too much in.

  “Sorry,” I tell her.

  “No,” she says as her laugh fades to a giggle. “I love a lot of bubbles.”

  With one last look, I close the door and sit on the bed to wait for the room service. I hear the water behind the door and wonder what she’s washing, what she looks like naked, and the urge to jerk off is intense. Instead, I turn on the television and moments later there’s a knock at the door. I bring the food into the bedroom and resume my seat on the bed, and watching a show about motorcycle modifications. Seconds later, the bathroom door handle turns and I look over to see Emily standing there with her hair clipped on top of her head, and her body encased in the hotel robe. The sight of her makes me inhale deeply, she’s stunning and so damn sexy. Her eyes dart from me to the food tray and I scoot over on the bed to make room for her. Sitting before me, I take the tops off the identical plates and set them on the floor. We both start to eat and watch the show.

  “Can we watch something else, unless you’re really into this shit,” she says.

  “No, here,” I say, handing her the remote.

  “You don’t like motorcycles?” I ask.

  “My dad was in some biker gang, in and out of jail, we were his family when he wanted one. Then my mom ditched me at my uncle’s when I was ten, never saw her again. My uncle was offed when I was sixteen, I became a ward of the state and on my own since…actually, I’ve always really been on my own.”

  “Your uncle was offed? Like murdered?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she breathes out.

  “Uh, isn’t that weird?” I ask.

  “Not for Vegas…he had some gambling debt or something, with the mob…anyway, I say all that because I blame my asshole dad for all that,” she says matter-of-factly. “So no, I’m not really into that shit.”

  It strikes me that she speaks so casually about all this. But I guess if she didn’t give a shit about them, it makes sense. I can’t believe she shared something so deep with me, but again, it might not be a big deal to her.

  “So, you’ve been working at the casino a long time?”

  “A few years, I’m trying to save money, and the hours work well with going to school.”

  “School, huh…what are you going for?”

  “Business, I want to open my own company.”

  “Oh yeah? What kind of company?”

  "Are we gonna fuck?" she asks bluntly.

  "Whoa, I know you're craving my shit now that I gave you that awesome orgasm with my fingers, and my cock will definitely out do that. But I need to digest my food, can you let me do that first before I fuck you all night?"

  She gives me an almost disgusted look, and again there's that fear she might leave, but I like this right now.

  "Twenty minutes, that’s all I’m asking," I tell her.

  "Fine," she sighs and scoots up the bed to rest her back against the pillows.

  “You’re not supposed to swim right after you eat, it’s the same thing-”

  “I said fine,” she dismisses and I smile.

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and mimic her positioning on the other side of the bed. We sit silently and watch her show until there's a commercial and she looks over at me.

  "Tell me about your family," she says.

  “You wanna know about my family? I thought you just wanted to fuck?” I question with a smile.

  “I’ve got twenty minutes to kill, I’ve already seen this episode, and I told you all my family shit so it’s only fair.”

  “I don’t have any family, well blood wise…my mom died when I was fifteen and I don’t remember my dad.”

  “I’m sorry, about your mom I mean,” Emily says.

  "Thank you," I answer with honesty in my tone.

  "You said you were fifteen?"

  I nod and look down at my hands in my lap, the emotions of what my mom went through in her final years and how much I miss her brings forward pain I try to escape daily.

  "Was it sudden or-"

  "No, she had cancer, about four years."

  "Wow, that's, that's terrible."

  "My dad left when I was young so it was always me and her...I always protected her, the man of the house, even as a little kid. I knew something was wrong, even when she didn't tell me at first. But then when she did, that she was sick, I felt like I let her down."

  Emily inhales slowly and deeply, but my eyes remain on my hands.

  "Which is silly now when I think about it...but I was a kid. My mom meant everything to me, all her family was in the states-"

  "Where were you?"

  "My dad’s Venezuelan, he met my mom here and they got married and moved there...but then when he left us, his family didn't want anything to do with us and Mom was too sick to get back here. Anyway, she went to chemo for a while, and that wasn't working so she decided to stop...even then I didn't realize what that meant, even as a teenager, I didn't comprehend that she was preparing to die."

  My words stop as I swallow thickly, realizing I've literally told her more about this than I have anyone else since it happened. She's here to fuck, not to listen to me dribbling about my history. Clearin
g my throat, I look over at the television and try to get myself off that subject and back to what we're here for. Emily doesn't say anything for a while and then she takes my hand in hers and rests it on my lap, her head leaning against my shoulder. Something happens to me then, something I can't describe. I recognize right then why I want Emily so badly, why I want to know her and why her comfort is so welcoming to me...she reminds me of my mom. My mom was feisty and head strong, it's just a flicker of the same way she's making me feel at ease and my wild mind isn't restless.

  4

  Smokey

  I wake to an obnoxious tone that's repeating, over and over again. Warmth and weight leave my side and with a groan and a curse the sound finally ends.

  “Fuck!”

  I hear a moment later, and then the sheets land on me as they’re thrown off. Blinking open my eyes I watch Emily moving around the room frantically before disappearing into the bathroom. Glancing over at the clock, I see it’s seven a.m. and I groan, not remembering the last time I’ve been up this early. I hear mumbling from the bathroom and commotion, my dick and curiosity getting the better of me. Groggily I get out of bed, still in my clothes from the night before, since we fell asleep watching T.V with her hand in mine and her head on my shoulder. I woke up once to lay her down and cover us with the sheets, but that’s it. Pushing open the ajar door, I squint at the bathroom light, and Emily’s bent over the sink, she’s discarded the robe and is in her bra and skirt from the night before as she washes her face. The urge to stand behind her and grope her ass, to push my hips against it and tease my dick almost gets the better of me, but she’s still mumbling angrily to herself so I decide not to. She doesn’t notice me until the seat clanks against the lid of the toilet, unbuttoning my jeans and reaching into my briefs to pull my cock out and start pissing.