Carolina Rebels Roster
THIS IS UTTERLY ridiculous. How did I let Sylvia talk me into this? She’s given me space, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. All I’ve done so far is stand at the bar, order drinks, and drink them. Well, I keep pulling my dress down too. It shouldn’t even be called a dress!
Sylvia’s bright idea was to put me in a piece of green cloth that starts across my breasts and ends two inches from my ass. I feel like either a nipple or cheek is about to pop out and flash everyone at any second. My dress is layered with green leaves and vines. I’m wearing green fishnet stockings, a red pair of stilettos, or hooker heels as I’ve deemed them, and a mask over my eyes that has leaves over it. I’m even wearing a red wig. I’m supposed to be Poison Ivy from one of the Batman movies, but I feel like a pile of leaves with a touch of Christmas with all the red going on. A slutty pile of leaves, that is.
It’s bad enough she wants me to start dating again, but to insist I come to this Halloween party hosted by one of Scott’s friends is crossing the line! No, the line was crossed when she dressed me in this...this...thing! Sure, my boobs look good, but that’s what happens when you’re wearing a lacy push-up bra, because yes, she even bought my undergarments. My face had to be as red as the wig on my head when I saw that was also included in the bag. On top of everything else, the wig is making me hot. It seems warm in here anyway. The last thing I need is to start sweating.
My dear sister-in-law is out of her mind. She said she just wants me to look great and have fun, but she’s hoping I get laid.
Fat chance of that happening!
She couldn’t pay me to have sex with someone. How many times does she need to hear, “I’m not ready,” before it gets through that thick skull of hers? Apparently, more times than I feel like saying it.
Needing a break from the noise, I carefully walk to where I think the bathrooms are. I wear heels often enough, but never any this high. I’ve been drinking tonight as well. I need to be extra careful to avoid falling. When I find the hallway, I begin to feel dizzy, so I lean against the wall. If I’m not careful, I’ll move the wrong way and my dress will expose either my top or my bottom. Not thirty seconds pass with my hand on my forehead when a door squeaks.
“Are you okay?”
My knees weaken at the sound of a voice which is pure sin even with such few, simple words. I lift my head to see a man wearing a Speedo. It’s the colors of the Canadian flag, which is kind of odd, and in the middle, barely concealing a tempting looking dick, is the maple leaf. There’s a medal hanging around his neck, too. When I manage to lift my gaze even higher, I see the bright blue eyes of a man with a beautiful grin, a slightly crooked nose that’s probably been broken at some point, and short blond hair.
Damn. He’s as good-looking as his voice portrays.
“Are you?” he presses.
“Am I what?”
His grin widens. “Are you okay?”
“Oh. I’m fine.”
His gaze travels down my body, at first causing shivers, but then I wonder if my dress has moved, so I look down at myself. Nope. Dress is still covering me.
“You look hot.”
My head snaps up so quickly, it’s a wonder I don’t bump it on the wall behind me.
“What are you doing hiding in a hallway by the bathrooms?”
“I needed a break. It’s crazy in there.” My freaking eyes keep dropping to the maple leaf. It’s just there! Standing out since it’s red on white and not to mention, there’s the fact that it’s doing a terrible job of concealing his dick.
“Not a fan of parties?” There’s a teasing in his voice that his seemingly ever-present grin confirms.
“Not really.” My eyes drop again. Man, I should get laid. This guy is toned and obviously has a good package. Maybe Sylvia was right. I need to let loose. At least for one night. With the liquid courage coursing through me as my heart pulses so hard I can feel it everywhere from my head to down between my legs, I look into Baby Blue’s eyes. His mouth opens with another question, I assume. That seems to be all he does. Ask questions. That should stop. Before I can think this through, I launch toward him.
Baby Blue is surprised, but he grabs my hips. My hooker heels are amazing because they help lift me up to his height. When I press my lips to his, he kisses me back. His mouth parts and I slide my tongue inside, tasting alcohol. Suddenly, I’m pressed against the wall with my legs hooked around his hips and the maple leaf is getting acquainted with my lacy red boy shorts. His hands are holding my bottom and his fingertips dig in hard enough to cause an oddly pleasurable pain.
Fuck me now, he can kiss!
The pang in my chest at the realization that this is the best kiss of my life can’t be heard over the roar of my heartbeat.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me again. All I can do is nod because there’s no way I’m voluntarily removing my mouth from his. Baby Blue is walking and the next thing I know, he’s opening the door to a truck and setting me in the backseat. I walk backward on my hands as he crawls in after me. He kisses me hard, stealing my breath away.
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I open my mouth to complain when he stops, but then he opens the center console in the front seat to grab a condom. That’s when I panic. I can’t do this! This is wrong. I don’t know anything about him, not even his name. I know nothing! Most importantly, he’s not my husband. This is a bad idea.
Baby Blue starts kissing me again. A loud moan resounds in the cab as his fingers graze over my panties. Shit. That moan was from me. The urge to leave floats away. I’m too consumed by a man wearing a Canadian Speedo.
How is this my life right now?
“What’s your name?” he mumbles between kisses down to my cleavage.
“Ivy,” I lie.
He chuckles. “Makes sense.” He lifts his head with that cocky grin. “Mind if I fuck you, Ivy?”
“Please,” I beg. God, who am I? There’s no time to think about it. Baby Blue has pushed down the Speedo and put on a condom without me noticing. He pushes my panties to the side and enters me. His truck is quickly filled with moans and groans and grunts and pants. For a few blissful minutes, I’m not Elizabeth, or Lizzy, or a widow. I’m not the woman who avoids fun and happiness like it could kill me. I’m not the woman who has to be convinced for two weeks that I should go out and attend a Halloween party.
Unfortunately, I’m a woman who after a few too many drinks can be easily persuaded to climb into the back of a truck and fuck a stranger. This thought doesn’t hit me until after our orgasms, which were way too good for sex in a vehicle.
“I need to go.”
“What? Why?” Baby Blue asks, but I’m already slipping out from underneath him and nearly falling out of the truck as I open the door and try to get away.
I adjust my dress, kick off my heels, grab them, and run to the other side of the building where I parked as Baby Blue calls out, “Ivy!”
God, what have I done? I rip off my mask once I get onto the road. I’m so thankful I left my keys in my car and didn’t carry anything inside with me. This is not who I am.
My sob can’t be helped. I’ve betrayed him. That is definitely not what he would’ve wanted for me.
“I’m so sorry, Roger. I’m so sorry.”
“I’M NOT GOING,” I say for the millionth time. Sylvia is really starting to piss me off with her insistence that I go on a date with some guy I don’t even know. She keeps setting me up on dates, each seemingly worse than the prior one. I was able to push her off some after Halloween and that disaster. She knew that was a bad time for me, even if she didn’t know exactly why, as I never told her what happened.
“Lizzy, at least meet him before you make up your mind,” she tries, going for a new tactic.
My mind is already made up. I don’t know why she’s wanting me to go out with this guy so bad. She knows I don’t like to date. She knows I have no interest in dating, especially after Halloween. There are too many other things in life I’m choosing to focus on instead.
“Meet him and if there’s no spark, then we won’t set you up. You can come with me to the game, and we’ll go to the bar with the guys afterward.”
That’s when it hits me. “He’s a hockey player? Come on! No.” My voice turns cold and hard. “You should know better, Sylvia. It’s not happening.”
Her gaze fills with pity and I hate it. Everyone always looks at me with pity when the briefest of thoughts enters their minds. Her voice softens. “Don’t say no because of that. He’s a really great guy, and I think he’ll be good for you.”