My Prerogative Read online

  My mind had drifted as Mom talked about some job opening she’d heard about, but the word interview had caught my attention. “I’m not interested, Mom. A desk job would kill me slowly.”

  “Well you need to find something productive, Kelsey. This sleeping in until noon isn’t healthy. Are you sure you’re not depressed?”

  “Mom, I work until three in the morning. It’s not like I’m unemployed or something.”

  “Bartending isn’t a real job, dear—”

  “My other line is ringing, Mom. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  I hung up before she could stop me. Then, for good measure, I turned the ringer off before I rolled over and went back to sleep. Another hour and I’d be human.

  As soon as the apartment door swung closed behind me, my hands were on the buttons of my blouse. Then my pants hit the floor. Wearing nothing but my padded bra and panties, I grabbed a six-pack of beer from the fridge and headed for the balcony. Temperatures had been hitting record highs all week long and it was getting on my nerves. Thank God my second-floor apartment faced east so it was at least shaded by early evening. The air was still hot and humid, but the slight breeze that blew every now and then was a heavenly touch on my overheated skin.

  After going to the gym, I’d spent the evening catching an early show in an air-conditioned movie theater. I loved movies, and I usually enjoyed going to them by myself. My popcorn was mine alone, and no one whispered in my ear, ruining things. But Friday night wasn’t the best time to indulge in that pastime. All I’d done was make myself hyperaware of the couples and groups of people around me.

  I stretched out on the lounger and gazed up at the sky as it darkened and the stars started to come out. It was Friday night and I was sitting on my balcony, all alone, drinking.

  How sad was that?

  After finishing my second beer, I debated going inside, but I was too comfortable where I was. Besides, why go inside when I’d just be alone in there too? At least outside I could hear traffic and the occasional voices carrying on the breeze. I could imagine there was someone out there who cared where I was—what I was doing.

  I sighed, not bothering to wipe at the tears that were slowly leaking out. Lifting my face to the night breeze, I breathed deep. Coming home alone after the movie had been my own choice. I could’ve gone out.

  I’d given Randy a call earlier, but he was out of town and unable to help me out with a few hours of entertainment. I could’ve headed out to a pub or bar on my own, shot some pool, had a few drinks, found a man for the night, but that required a bit more energy than I had. I was tired. Tired of people telling me how lucky I was to be free and single. Tired of always looking for something I couldn’t seem to find. So tired of the superficial greatness of my life.

  I opened my eyes and searched the stars as another tear trickled out. I was being an idiot. PMS or some shit had drained all of my energy until I was beyond apathetic about everything in my life.

  It was stupid too. I had a good life, really; how could it be otherwise when I had almost everything I’d ever wanted? In high school when all my friends were dreaming of getting married and popping out babies by the time they were twenty, I dreamt of seeing the world and having grand adventures. All I’d ever really wanted was to experience life—to really live it. And I had.

  Only I’d experienced everything on my life’s to-do list by the time I hit thirty, and now I was lost.

  I could tell myself it didn’t matter, but that would be lying.

  “C’mon Kelsey, smarten up,” I muttered. “Dee was right; if you really wanted a boyfriend, you could have one.”

  A boyfriend.

  If only it were as simple as that.

  Men had always been easy for me to get . . . but hard to keep. It had never bothered me before because I always figured that if it were meant to be, it would happen. If it was meant to be, when I pulled back, they wouldn’t walk away without looking back.

  Like that guy in Dublin a couple of years earlier, Jesse.

  We’d had an instant connection. I’d felt it and he had too. “Do I know you?” he’d asked when we’d met in the street. “You look familiar.”

  He hadn’t looked familiar, but he’d certainly made my heart go pitter-patter in my chest. It wasn’t his looks either. He was cute, but nothing special. It had just been . . . a connection.

  We’d spent all night together, talking and cuddling on the sofa in his hotel room. It had been the first time since I was a teenager that I’d spent all night in a man’s arms and not had sex. And it had been intense. More intense than any time I’d ever spent with a guy before. At one point in the night, I’d looked at him and my breath had caught in my throat. The corners of his mouth had lifted and I’d spoken straight from the heart. “I could really fall in love with you,” I’d said.

  “I think I have fallen for you,” he replied.

  The silence between us at that had been comfortable. We’d connected.

  Jesse was an American who was waiting in Dublin for a friend who was due in a couple of days, and then they were going to travel around the country. When I told him it was my last night in Dublin, he’d suggested spending the next few days traveling with me, up to Scotland. The idea had filled me with warmth, and I’d fallen asleep with an idiotic grin on my face.

  But when morning arrived I’d untangled myself from his arms, smiled at him, and left without a word. And he’d let me. I went back to my own hotel room, packed my bags and left for the ferry station without contacting him again. By the time I’d arrived in Glasgow, I’d gotten over my fear and called the hotel where he’d been. I was hoping to maybe get his e-mail or some way to keep in touch, but he’d already checked out.

  Maybe he’d been the one for me, and I’d let him go.

  Then there was my friend Janelle’s brother-in-law. He was before Jesse, when I was about twenty-six. Even though Dan was in his early thirties, he’d been sexy and I’d been tempted. If he’d asked to take me home, I would’ve gone with him eagerly. At that point in time most of my sexual experiences happened when I was too drunk for good old Catholic guilt to interfere with my body’s needs. An older, more experienced man would’ve been an adventure worthy of more than a drunken night.

  Only when Janelle had said Dan was in love with me, I’d immediately made the decision to never go to another of her family functions. Funny thing was, for a guy who’d said he was in love with me, he’d never once called and asked me out.

  Ah, hell, it didn’t matter now.

  Convincing myself that all that was missing from my life was a man was a cop-out. I’d never been one of those women who wasn’t happy unless she had a man in her life. I loved my job, I loved my little condo, and I have good friends. But I wanted more.

  The real problem was, I didn’t really know what the hell that more was.

  One last look up at the stars in the night sky had some part of me still hoping for a storybook happily-ever-after. Maybe a falling star to make a wish on. Before I could spot one, a tingle skipped through me and I dragged my gaze from the stars above. It almost felt like . . . someone was watching me.

  My gaze skimmed over the sidewalk beneath me, and up the side of the building across the street. Nothing. There were people around, but no one was paying attention to me. Whatever. I was just imagining things.

  Straightening up, I spun on my heel and went back inside, careful to pull the drapes closed behind me.

  8

  Harlan set down his camera and stepped back from the window.

  She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. Sure she’d been wild and sexy and raw the afternoon he’d watched her masturbate, and since then he’d been unable to stop thinking about her. But moments ago, when she’d been on her balcony, staring at the stars, she’d looked like an angel with a bruised soul.

  It called to him, that bruised part of her. So much more than her beauty.

  He watched her from his loft, knowing that it wa
s an intrusion, but unable to stop. He’d seen her in the afternoon, dancing around her apartment with her iPod on, and her obvious joy and verve had made him smile. Now, only hours later, she seemed so adrift.

  For some reason it bothered him to think of her like that. He wanted to go to her, convince her she was beautiful and strong and vital. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and make her forget all her troubles.

  Harlan rubbed his eyes and dragged his hands down his face when he saw the lights go out in her apartment.

  He had to stop watching. He was becoming obsessed with a woman who didn’t even know who he was. Talk about a fucked-up relationship.

  9

  I walked into the bar on Saturday night already in a weird mood. I’d tried to shake the emotional hangover from my pity party the night before, but it wasn’t going so well, and I was getting grumpier by the minute. There was no room for what ifs and wish I hads in life. Nothing good ever came from overanalyzing things you couldn’t change, so why bother?

  In an effort to get out of my own head before I went freakin’ nuts, I cranked up the sound system and loaded in my CD of personal theme songs. Yep, I’d watched Ally McBeal, identifying with the neurotic lawyer in ways I never thought possible.

  Bif Naked’s “I Love Myself Today” filled the club and I made my way back to the bar. I was back there slicing fruit for the drinks when Val came down from his office upstairs, pulled up a stool and sat across from me.

  “Hey, boss. Want a drink?”

  “Beer,” he said.

  There was no need for me to ask what kind so I snagged his regular, popped the top, and set it in front of him before picking up the knife again.

  It wasn’t unusual for Val to sit and have a drink while I did the prep, but this time his stare was getting to me.

  “What?” I finally snapped.

  He took a swallow of beer then pinned me with his gaze. “You tell me.”

  “Nothing to tell.” I shrugged and concentrated fiercely on the lime in front of me.

  He waited me out. One night after I’d first started working for Val, I’d gotten too drunk when working the bar, and he’d called me on it. I was down and lonely, and feeling sorry for myself. My parents were pissed at me for letting my college degree sit unused while I tended bar. A guy I’d spent the night with had called me a freak, in the light of the morning after, of course. But my being a freak hadn’t stopped him from enjoying my body the night before. Being drunk at the time that Val had called me out, I’d vomited out some shit about nobody else caring, so why should he?

  It had been the wrong thing to say to a man who grew up with no family.

  I’d finally confessed to him about how there were times when I felt so lost and alone I thought I’d go insane. How I knew it was stupid when I had a really great life, yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself from drinking, fighting, and fucking. Those things calmed a part of me that I didn’t understand. There was no tragedy in my background. No abuse, no deaths or illness. There was no real reason for the darkness that crouched within my soul.

  For the first time in my life, someone had looked at me and not called me a freak, or crazy, or tried to make light of what I’d said by telling me how great my life was . . . how blessed I was.

  Instead, Val had listened and convinced me that if doing those things calmed me, that was okay. He’d validated that the darkness inside me wasn’t just my imagination. It didn’t matter where it came from, or how it got there. It was there . . . and it was up to me to control it, not let it control me. I just had to be strong, be smart, and play safe. Find the release that did the least damage.

  I’d stopped fighting, but I still drank, and I still fucked strangers. The darkness didn’t come as often since that night I’d confided in Val, and deep down I knew that meant something. I just hadn’t figured out exactly what.

  It was because of Val that I wasn’t a raging alcoholic. Somehow, he always knew when the darkness started to creep in on me, and he was there. I figured it was because he had his own secrets, and he understood.

  “I’m just feeling a little restless is all.” I set down the knife and met his gaze. “No big deal.”

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Nothing to talk about, really. Like I said, just a little restlessness. Having nothing going on in my life makes me spend too much time in my own head.” He really was a good man. “How’d you know anyway?”

  His lips lifted in a small smile. “You only put this CD on when you’re psyching yourself up for something.”

  “Well hell,” I said. “It’s better than grabbing a bottle, right?”

  “Right you are.” He stood and put his empty bottle on the bar. “Your mom called, said she’d been trying to get hold of you.”

  “I’ll give her a call.”

  “See that you do.” He gave me a look. “And remember, you can call me anytime, even if it’s just cuz you need a kick in the ass.”

  My chest got tight and I couldn’t speak. I nodded once instead, and Val nodded back.

  I really was blessed.

  The bar was packed that night and time flew.

  I’d called my mom after my talk with Val, and let her ramble on about Ariel’s wedding plans, my cousin’s new baby, and an intern position in one of the city’s top marketing firms she’d heard about. Yeah, more like she’d hunted down. No matter how many times I told her I liked my job, she never quit trying to find me something “better.”

  Whatever. I accepted that I’d never change her mind about following my own path.

  A few drinks, plenty of flirting, and a complete lockdown on those pesky twinges of lonely had me feeling pretty damn good as I exited Risqué. It was my life, and I was living it the way I wanted.

  Dave, the cocky young stud visiting Jack, was leaning against my car with his arms folded across his chest.

  “It’s my last night here,” he said when I stopped in front of him. “I thought you might want to give me a going-away present.”

  A tingle of heat started low in my belly. I hadn’t heard from Randy since getting back from Jamaica and my needs were riding me hard. Dave was pretty hot. Nice face, nice body, good sense of humor . . . and leaving town the next day. He’d be good for a quick fix, if nothing else. “Sure, hop in.”

  The drive to my place was short, filled with flirtatious one-liners flung back and forth. Dave’s hand rubbed up and down my thigh as I drove and my temperature rose. When we hit a red light I turned and grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulling him in for a kiss. Our lips met, parted and meshed with the heat and passion only strangers can have.

  Kissing a stranger—fucking a stranger, is hot. For me, the turn-on came from more than what the guy looked like, or who he was. It came from the fact that we’d never see each other again. I could be free with a stranger, as down and dirty as I wanted, as sweet or as slutty, and not worry about repercussions. Or judgments. Or gossip. It was an aphrodisiac, and by the time I pulled back from Dave we were both panting hard.

  “Is it much farther?” he asked.

  Instead of answering I put the pedal to the floor and pulled into the parking lot of my building two minutes later. Dave got the hint and didn’t bother talking anymore. He smacked my ass when I went up the stairs ahead of him and pinned me to the wall on the first landing with a kiss.

  His tall, lean body rubbed against mine as his hands ran down my back and fondled my ass. I started to lift my leg and wrap it around his waist but stopped myself and pushed him away to dash up the last set of stairs.

  Dave caught up with me as I pushed the door open and we stumbled into my apartment together. The tank top I was wearing came off and I tossed it to the floor as I walked backward toward my bedroom, leading him along teasingly. His hands shook as he unbuttoned his shirt and belt, dropping his clothes on the floor where he stood. I eyed his pants and he understood. Reaching down, he pulled a condom from the pocket. When he came up, my skirt and panties were on the floor and he tackled
me with a growl.

  We hit the ground kissing and touching, hands everywhere as we rolled around on the floor of my living room. It didn’t matter that we never made it to my bedroom; all that mattered was the feel of bodies rubbing together as we wrestled.

  Dave tried to slow things down, to gentle me, but I wanted none of it. I didn’t want gentle. I wanted hard and rough and passionate. Pushing against his shoulders I finally gained the top position.

  I sat up, straddling him. “Put the condom on,” I said.

  Panting filled the room as he ripped the foil package and reached between us to slide it on. I lifted up, and got rid of my bra.

  He froze, slack jawed and staring as I pinched my nipples and tugged on the piercings.

  “You are so sexy,” he said, his eyes glued to my every movement. A shudder racked his body and I grinned. His cock was so hard it was flat against his belly.

  “So eager,” I whispered, trailing my finger over his cheek to the corner of his mouth. I played it over his mouth, dipping between his parted lips. “Do you want to fuck me, Dave?”

  “Oh God, yes!”

  “I’m not some sweet little girl, you know.”

  “I know.” He panted the words out.

  “Then do it.” I gripped his shoulders and rolled over again, pulling him on top of me. Wrapping my hand around the back of his head I pulled him down on top of me. I pulled my finger out and kissed him. I sank my hands into his hair and pressed my body against him. My mouth opened and I shoved my tongue between his lips. He met me with fire and passion, his body rigid and straining against mine.

  No more foreplay, no more teasing. I reached between us to grab his cock and showed him the way in. Once his thick head breached my entrance, he started to pump his hips. I planted my feet on the floor and moved with him, but it wasn’t enough. “Don’t be gentle, Dave. Fuck me hard.”

  “You asked for it,” he said. Bracing his hands by my shoulders, he thrust deep and didn’t hesitate. His hips pumped fast and hard, shafting me so deep it almost hurt. Pelvic bones crashed and my clit absorbed every shock with a cry of pleasure. I wrapped my legs around his waist, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the ride.