Strike (Sphere of Irony 2)

Kate never rang me after I stopped by her dormitory, not that I know if her crazy flatmate gave her my number. I had begun to think I’d never see her again. Unbelievably, I’ve got Kate sitting next to me, picking at a tiny hole in the hideous sofa backstage at the Viper Room, and I’m not sure what to say.

“You look gorgeous,” I blurt out, immediately wanting to punch myself for sounding so bloody desperate. One of the rules flicks through my head. One I have a hard time remembering when I’m around Kate.

Rule 2—Never let your emotions show.

Her wide green eyes find mine for the briefest of moments before they drop back down to the sofa.

Forcing myself to go against everything I was raised to believe, I stupidly put it out there. “I’m sorry, Kate. About—” I swallow thickly, having a hard time putting my feelings in words. “About what you saw. It…” Jesus, I sound like such a wanker. The urge to take what I want, to kiss her until she comes undone is nearly overpowering. Especially after a performance, when my libido is flying high. Having her here is pure torture.

Kate waves her hand dismissively. “It’s no big deal, Dax. Honestly.”

My heart, which just mere seconds ago was beginning to come to life after years of blackness, has crumbled and fallen in pieces down into my hollow insides at her effortless brush off.

“No big deal?” I snarl, my tone angrier than it should be. So she couldn’t care less that she saw my dad’s whore on her knees sucking me off? “Bullshit,” I challenge her. I know she cared. I saw it on her face. I fucking felt it in my shattered soul. You want to make me prove you cared?

Challenge accepted.

Kate’s face and neck are a brilliant shade of crimson—her emerald eyes narrow, flashing with fury. “Excuse me?”

Confident I’ve gotten it right and refusing to back down even if I’m wrong, I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t believe you. It was a big deal to you. It was and most definitely still is a big deal to me.”

Her anger melts away at my very rare show of feelings. “Why do you care what I think? So you had your cock sucked by some slag. What difference does it make?” Kate’s voice is shaky, in fact, when I look down at her hands, now gripping her own knees, they’re shaking as well.

Feeling bold, or embarrassed, or maybe just tired of not being allowed to touch her or talk to her, I reach over and pull her into my arms, crushing my mouth against hers

. Kate is stunned at first, unresponding as my tongue demands entrance. Then, as if a switch is flipped, she comes alive, groaning and opening up to me, allowing me access to her hot, wet mouth, letting me relive that perfect kiss we had so many months ago.

Intense fire burns through me, blazing, stoking the instinctive craving for my post-fight/post-gig reward. Our lips move in tandem, sloppy and desperate. She tastes exactly how I recall, the sweet memory burned on my brain forever. I’m about to shift her into my lap so I can feel that perfect body rubbing against my rock hard length when she breaks the kiss.

“Stop.”

“What? Why?” I continue to nip at her mouth.

“No Dax. Stop.”

Reluctantly, I back off, slumping on the sofa. She looks gorgeous, her lips swollen and wet, her cheeks red, and her eyes filled with unmistakable lust.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Dax. I’m sorry. You’re not good for me.” She moves away, reaching her hands up to right her disheveled hair.

Fuck. She’s right, I’m not good for her, but I’m also a selfish bastard. Always have been. I need to fix this so I can have her near me. Inhaling deep, for the first time in my life I dive in headfirst.

“I want to make a go of this. With you.” I slide off the sofa, kneeling down between her legs, not willing to give up so easily. I’m stubborn. I get what I want and I want her.

Kate’s eyes are wide and unblinking as she thinks it over. “You, you want to make a go of it… with me?”

“Yes.”

She lets out a choked laugh. I reach into her lap, holding her hands in mine. “I can’t believe this,” she says. “I’ve always wanted you, but you never saw me. Never expressed any interest in me.”

I pull our intertwined hands to my lips, kissing them lightly. “I was an idiot. I’m interested now. What do you say?”

Kate hesitates and her mouth twists up into a pained grimace. “I’m sorry Dax. I think it’s best we just stay friends.” She chokes up, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

This. This is why I don’t let my emotions show. It’s a weakness that can be used to exploit you, let you down, make you feel shit you shouldn’t have to feel.

“Fine,” I reply stonily, the mask back in place.