FlashMobWrites 1x49

    

Staying home instead of working the bar tonight for Tom is something I should have given serious consideration to. I know as soon as she walks in, she is going to cause me trouble. I know when she flirts with me, there is nothing innocent about it. What I should have done is what I usually do in these situations; flirt, serve the cocktails and make conversation. That’s it. And I do that. Sex on a beach and screaming orgasm are cocktails I have made a million times with pretty much the same conversation and howls of laughter like I haven’t heard it before. But the way the words fall in a soft caress from her perfectly glossed lips, the way her smoky almond eyes follow my every move like a cat stalking its prey, I know it is more than the drink she wants. And I am definitely interested.

She follows me outside when I have my break. Before I can speak, she flings her arms around my neck, presses her lips against mine. Of course, I respond, pushing her up against the wall, running my hand along her curves, feeling the warmth of her skin under the thin fabric. I ignore the wedding band. I ignore her reeking of alcohol, drowning instead in lust.  

Glassy eyed, she straightens her dress and joins her friends. It isn’t long before I’m delivering another tray of cocktails. She blushes which is cute. Her friends tease her but they have no idea. Coerced into joining in for a photo, I sit next to her, a compulsion to touch her. She lays her hand on my thigh, instantly my body responds. Luckily the tray is on my lap, hiding my desire. Her friends cackle hysterically. She plays up to them, pouting her lips, thrusting out her breasts. I want her and she knows it.

I can’t wait for closing time. I don’t know nor do I care what she spins to her friends or her husband. My girlfriend hasn’t crossed my mind (but then, I’ve only been dating her for a few weeks) until she walks in just before closing. My mind races, trying to find an excuse lurking in my mind. There is one, I’m sure. There has to be. But my mind is blank as the woman and her friends are ready to leave.  

“Hey, Mum,” my girlfriend says. “Mum, this is Daryl, the guy I’ve been telling you about and Daryl, this is Jane, my mum.”

A glass nearly slips from my hand as my girlfriend hugs her mum, the woman I just had sex with and plan to again within the next half an hour. Mum. She said ‘mum’. I see the colour drain from Jane’s face. I see the sudden realisation dawn on the faces of her friends. I feel sick. But not because of what I’ve done. But because I can’t stop thinking about Jane, the mother of my girlfriend.

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Written for https://flashmobwrites.wordpress.com.

Woohoo. Winning piece of flash with gorgeous judges comments. 

   

   

This is a Requirement #ThursThreads

A live in job, use of cars and two days off a week. Just at the right time for Amber who, after a breakup, had spent the past three weeks on her friend’s sofa. With a decent wage, Amber would be back on her feet in no time.

Those thoughts ran through her head as she waited for a car to meet her, encased in darkness, vulnerability creeping through her.

A long, black car pulled up and a door swung open, revealing little light.

Ignoring the voices in her head, Amber climbed in. Sinking into a plush red seat opposite her host, she stared into pale, curious coloured eyes beneath unruly dark strands, as his full lips curled slightly. He held out what looked like a silk black handkerchief between long, slim fingers.  

“This is a requirement,” he said in a velvet voice, leaning forward. “My home is my sanctuary. I’m a very private person.” Delicately, his hands wound round her head,  fingers entwined in her hair as he tightened the eye mask.

Tingles of anticipation ran through her. She inhaled his masculine scent. Her heart beat faster as his hand straightened the mask, lingering a moment too long, then grazing her cheek before settling back in his seat. Her remaining senses were now heightened; she could feel the heat emanate from him, sensing his eyes caressing every inch of her.

“You don’t need to worry, Amber. By the time our journey has finished, you’ll know everything about me.”

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 Written for Thursday Threads hosted by Siobhan Muir over at The weird, the Wild and the Wicked

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Thursday Threads Then I Can Help You

It's been a while since I contributed to Thursday Threads over at Siobhan Muir's The Weird, the Wild and the Wicked. Actually, it's been a while since I submitted any flash fiction. But, slowly getting back into the groove and really hope you like this piece where the phrase 'then I can help you' has to be included somewhere in the story. And no more than 250 words. . . . . 

Her heart wasn’t just broken; it was shattered into sharp splinters of bitterness, puncturing all her memories with a thick, black slick of revenge. Molly had shed no more tears after finding Daniel tangled up with a mystery brunette. No more swollen, red face, no more wallowing on the sofa with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s in her Disney pjs.  

A passing comment had given her a new direction, a new focus, a new zeal for life. Meeting ‘H’ for the third time, Molly took extra care with her makeup, new hair and a more modern, sophisticated wardrobe that celebrated her figure. Her time was now spent pondering ‘H’ and what it stood for as well as how her friend knew him in the first place. He wasn’t one for giving information as he sat and listened to Molly’s tale, nodding occasionally before declaring, “then I can help you,” once Molly handed over the manila envelope across the sticky pub table. His large, tattooed hand reached out, not checking the contents before sliding it inside his deep leather pocket. It unnerved Molly.

“You won’t see me again, you won’t try to find me,” he said gruffly as he stood, towering above her.

“How will I know it’s done?” Molly’s ruby lips trembled.

“You’ll know.” He opened the battered pub door before turning back, “A word of advice; get rid of the gangster’s moll lippy; you’re supposed to be heartbroken, not putting out a hit.”

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