Rock Hard

I noted that she was going through her drink kind of quickly... an interesting observation.

“Would have figured you to be already done. I mean, you’ve gotta be twenty-four, twenty-five, right?”

“I’m twenty-six,” I replied with amusement. “I did eight years. Two back-to-back enlistments, and now I’m getting back to reality. How old are you, now that I know that you’re not twenty-one?”

“Don’t worry, I’m eighteen,” she smiled, taking another long sip from her drink. “Sounds like Uncle Sam’s working out pretty well for you, then. What brought you to the States?”

“My father,” I told her. “He’s a chemical engineer and his company sent us stateside to work on a collaborative project with an oil corporation here. I’m afraid I’m not privy to any more detail than that, but we’ve been here for about a decade now.”

“A decade?” She gasped with muted surprise, just as I knew that she would. “What kind of project takes a decade?”

“The kind that’s sort of ongoing, features a lot of internal bureaucracy, and involves this particular engineer deciding he quite enjoys the States,” I answered, watching her fight to keep her eyes glued to me. “But the details are not particularly important. All you need to know is that, here we are, and have been for quite some time.”

Clara nodded slightly. Just as I was observing that inhaling her liquor was making her more than a little tipsy, she popped open her gob, asking loudly: “Why the Marines?”

“It was supposed to straighten me out,” I chuckled… Didn’t hurt that I couldn’t spend much money if I was tied up in combat, and I knew that I could get a decent education pretty much anywhere in the country.”

There was also the small matter of the Carlyle Fortune, although I wasn’t interested in divulging the future multimillionaire aspect of my backstory to this admittedly attractive stranger just yet.

“Sounds like you made the right move,” she nodded. “You’re a smart man, Dalton. Pretty handsome, too…”

Clara slid towards me, a dopey smile crossing her face as she drew near. Instinctively, I reciprocated, drawing her into a delicious, liquor-stained kiss.

The room faded away from us, its bustling entertainment a complete afterthought. This young lady was ripe for the picking, blushing and starting to stumble over her words. She would be molding clay in my hands; with the right push, I could have her home with me, her fingernails clawing into my back or gripping my shoulders all night long.

But I had a rule.

They can only be slightly drunk.

I don’t bed drunk chicks.

There were two reasons she would have already started to feel a buzz this strong: either this girl was a lightweight, or the bartender had fucked up. He could have mistaken my smirk for make this drink strong or, somewhat more likely, he’d just fucked up the ratio of alcohols.

I suspected they were both probably true.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as I pulled back. She was clearly toasty, grinning toothily and giggling a little.

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Never better,” I chuckled. My cock was straining against my slacks, but I quickly repositioned it and drew up from the bar table. “Listen, give me your phone. I’m gonna put my number in there. Can I have yours?”

“Suuure,” Clara replied, handing me her smartphone. After reminding my new friend here to plug in her passcode, I added myself as a contact and called my own phone.

“Good. There, now we’re in contact,” I thought aloud, handing her the phone back. “Listen, let’s get you back to Natalie. You could probably use a chaperone…”

“No, I’m good though,” Clara insisted.

“Alphabet backwards,” I commanded.

“Ugh. That doesn’t even work right.”

“Z-Y-X, W, V-U-T…” I chimed out in tune. “S, R, Q, P, O-N-M-L-K…”

“That’s… that’s not fair,” she slurred.

“Alphabet backwards, Clara.”

“I… I can’t do it,” she replied. When I didn’t budge, she finally sighed. “Z-Y-P, Q, L-M-N-O-P…”

“Yeah, we’re going to get… who was it, Natalie? We’re going to get Natalie for you,” I smiled. “I can’t take you home like this. You’ll regret it in the morning.”

“I’ll totally have sex with you,” she grinned.

“And I believe you,” I countered, furious that I was turning down willing, beautiful pussy on a silver platter. “But it wouldn’t be right. Now, just wait right here a moment…”

I parted through the crowd, looking for that familiar blond hair with gold earrings. I eventually spotted her, dominating the bartender’s time – to the chagrin of a few other girls, who looked bored and thirsty.

“Hey, Natalie… your friend’s feeling pretty good,” I tapped her on her shoulder.

She whirled around, a grin still on her face from the flirtations. “Where is she? What did you do?”

“Not a thing. But rather than bring her to my place, I think you might need to be put on babysitter duties…”

Natalie glanced around me to spot Clara, who was smiling to herself and swaying slightly in her chair.

“Oh good lord, girl, that was one drink… Clara must not have eaten anything at all tonight with that banquet. She was always really terrible about holding her liquor…” She turned back towards the bartender. “And he’s cute, but he doesn’t look like he really knows what he’s doing.”

“You see my predicament. Do you need a hand with her, or are you okay?”

Natalie sighed. “Nah, I’m good.” She looked up at me with a slight grin. “Very noble of you, though. She’d have probably fucked your brains out, and here you are, doing the right thing. Not a lot of guys like that around here.”

“I’m not a bad guy,” I shrugged.

“Yeah… I guess maybe not.” She paused, fiddling with her words in her head. “Look, sorry if I came off a bit strong earlier, she’s just… been going through some stuff lately. Kind of a hang-up from a few months ago.”

“Perfectly fine. You were just sticking up for your friend. I get it. Listen, I traded numbers with her, but unless you need anything, I think I’m going to head back home.”

“Nah,” Natalie shook her head, pretending to roll up her sleeves. “I’ve got this shit from here. You have a good night, and I’ll be sure to let her know about her Good Samaritan. After all, I make a hell of a wingwoman when I’m working with someone who’s not an unrepentant prick…”

“Glad to hear it. I’m in her phone under Dalton if she gets to be a bit much to handle.”

“Cool beans. See ya.”

With that, I paid out my tab with the bartender and started walking out of the bar. The placement of things put me walking straight past Clara's table, and I wound up strolling through her strike zone.

“You leaving?” She asked morosely.

“I’m afraid so. Long night. I’m in your phone though, and Natalie’s coming straight over. You take care now. See you soon, maybe?”

She grabbed me by the tie and pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss. I was temporarily stunned by the fervor she threw into it, and I couldn’t help but return the intensity, steadying myself against her table.

“Goodbye, Dalton,” she sultrily whispered as we separated lips.

“Bye, Clara,” I huskily replied back.

/> After that, I walked outside, letting the brisk air clear my head from what just happened.

What DID just happen? I asked myself.

When no answer came, I sighed quietly, shook my head with an amused grin, and began to whistle my way back towards the parking garage. Whatever just happened, I wasn’t even mad that I wasn’t bringing that fine plate of pussy home with me.

Which meant that I probably liked the girl.

Well, I chuckled to myself. That’s new.

Arrogant Brit

Chapter 4

The following morning, I woke up with only a mild hangover. As I pulled myself out towards the kitchen, I spotted Natalie on the couch. Sitting cross-legged with a bowl of cereal, she was lounging in pajamas that were probably more expensive than my entire bedroom.

Even after a few weeks here, I hadn’t gotten over how nice Nat’s apartment was. Even if she insisted that it was ours and not just hers, I couldn’t pretend to own any of this opulence.

The far wall was a seamless sheet of glass, overlooking the river. I had a fantastic view of the distant suspension bridge, the city park below, and several nearby, aesthetically pleasing buildings.

The floor across the entire apartment was a rich, polished green tile, which worked well with our premium black kitchen appliances, stone white countertops, and concrete walls.

As for our living room itself, a large, black sectional couch with matching ottoman and chaise dominated the area, facing away from the back bedrooms. Front and center was a wall-mounted flat-screen smart TV, perfectly suited for her fixation on binge-watching her streamed shows.

Rounding out Natalie’s other major vice was a corner bar area, close to her bedroom (naturally). It featured glasses that were tucked away neatly with a discreet wine cooler.

Finally, the kitchen ran alongside the living room, stretching out directly in front from my bedroom door. The left side became a long island between two pillars, whereas the other side boasted the appliances. All in all, the culinary amenities were modern, professional, and probably cost tens of thousands of dollars.

“Heya, Claire-bear,” Natalie grinned chirpily, glancing at me over her shoulder. “You’re up late. Feeling alright?”