Her Titans by Genevieve Jasper
Madelaine
1
“Left says I’m unapproachable and not up for making friends, and right says I might rock your world if you impress me in the next five seconds. Which one are you going for?”
I sigh, shooting a glare at Lia. “Neither, although closer to the right than the left.” I throw both outfits down, ready to look through my wardrobe for the fifteenth time that night, wishing the outfit that perfectly matched my mood would appear in front of me.
“Then keep the top from the right and try it on with your ripped mom jeans, the black high-waisted ones.” The ‘rock your world’ top she’s talking about is a strapless black corset with mesh panels. I do as ordered and add a belt to cinch the waist of them in. “Great, wear your black stilettos and you’re done,” Lia adds.
“Okay, that’s actually perfect!” I happily admit, loving the look of all black against my olive complexion. “You’re a miracle worker.” I shouldn’t have been surprised that Lia knew I needed a confidence-boosting outfit tonight. We met as fresh-faced teenagers Madelaine and Amelia, and as soon as we realised our nicknames were anagrams, decided we’d be best friends forever. Cue an armful of friendship bracelets and ten years of laughs. She could practically read my mind at this point.
“A phrase not said nearly enough for my liking. What’s got you so stressed, anyway? You can normally plan killer outfits in minutes and you’ve been faffing for nearly an hour.”
I fiddle with my hair while I think about how to answer. It’s curled for once and sits around my shoulders like a chocolate security blanket. I’ll definitely be playing with it all night.
“I think I’m ready to get back on the horse,” I tell her apprehensively.
Lia lets out an excited squeal and gets to her knees on my bed. “Yes, finally! I’ve been waiting to wing-woman your ass up for months!” Nine months, to be exact. That’s how long it has been since I finally gained the courage to end things with Jed. The reluctance to end it had been that there was nothing glaringly wrong with our relationship, but there was nothing spectacularly good with it either.
“What are we looking for?” she asks as I plop down next to her. “They need to be top-tier to be your next boyfriend, obviously,” she carries on without giving me time to answer. Not that I know how to.
“I was actually thinking of playing the field for a bit, having one of those wild phases everyone has crazy stories about.”
“No offence, sweetie, but you are the opposite of wild.”
I bristle, definitely taking offence. “What?! I can have one-night stands! I don’t want to fall back into a dull relationship where I lose myself completely. It’s taken long enough to find me again.”
“I completely agree. It would be a travesty to lose this confident, sexy woman to that shell of a person you ended up as with Jed, but there is a middle ground between the two, you know.”
I know Lia is right, and she’s probably correct to be dubious of my wild streak, but even though I get what she’s saying, the fact is that I am way happier single now than I was for at least half of my six-year relationship with Jed. I’m nervous to give myself to someone again when I am so content with who I am now, on my own.
“When was the last time we saw the top tier at Encore, anyway?” I deflect. “We’re there all the time and I have never seen a man worth looking at twice.”
“That’s true,” Lia ponders. “We could go somewhere else? We only started going there in the first place because we know Jed hates it.”
“Nah, it’s shitty but we always have fun and I feel safe there.”
“Safe to be on the prowl, you mean,” she says, waggling her eyebrows.
I roll my eyes. “Maybe we’ll start with a kiss on the dancefloor and work our way up.” I settle myself on the floor in front of the freestanding mirror to do my makeup.
“You need to relax. Getting ready to find a hookup is fun! Let me make you another drink.”
“I’m not going out for a hookup, I’m just not completely opposed to the idea now.”
“Yeah, well, Cinderella didn’t ask for a prince either, remember?” She lightens the mood by using one of our favourite quotes.
“I know, I know. A dress and a night out.”
“Maybe the jeans are a bad omen, then,” she jokes.
I laugh, smudging my eyeshadow. Oops, I guess my smoky eye is extra smoky tonight. “Good. Hopefully, they’ll stop me from making poor decisions.”
“Hopefully not,” she counters, standing up and smoothing her poker-straight red hair back behind her shoulders. She adjusts her tiny green bodycon dress and seriously looks like a temptress version of Ariel, the Little Mermaid. Lia knows she is seriously hot and likes to flaunt it, as she should. She teases every guy who looks her way and breaks hearts left, right and centre when they find out she is so loved up with her boyfriend of three years, Causus.
“Is Coze out tonight?” I ask. Caus lives behind me, and Lia met him the day I moved in. She was texting him later, and I read his name on her phone as ‘Coze’. We found it way funnier than it actually was, but it stuck.
“Nah, he had his own thing to do. He’ll meet me at mine later. Remind me to give you the spare key for his house.”
We share a back fence, and I always use his house as a drop off point for taxis. You can never be too careful, and I’m always on edge going home alone late at night. This way, if a stalking serial killer trails me (as they do), they’ll have the wrong address and will either find it empty or come face to face with 6ft of muscled bad-ass. Win-win.
“Thanks. Right, this is as good as it’s getting,” I claim as I stand up and spin to face Lia. “Passable?”
“Shut up, dork,” she says, rolling her eyes at me. “You are a stone-cold fox, how are you the only person who can’t see that?”
“So, is that a yes?”
“Seriously, Lai. How do you not know that? Guys queue up to hit on you every weekend. You’re only self-conscious because Jed gave you like one compliment the whole time you were together.”
“Are you hyping me up or bumming me out? Plus, the guys at Encore hit on every single woman in there, that means nothing. Come on, the taxi will be here in ten and you’ve promised me another drink,” I say, heading out towards the kitchen.
I wiggle my way up to the bar next to Lia and she elbows me in the ribs. “Oh my God, check out the guy at 12 o’clock.” I bite back my grumble from my smarting torso and look across the horseshoe bar. “He’s not even top tier,” she continues, “he may be an actual God. If you don’t hit that, I will.”
“No, you won’t. You and Coze are so loved up it’s sickening.”
“Fair,” she says with a moony smile. “But that just leaves you. Say hi!”
“I’m going to need a little more direction than ‘say hi’, it’s been forever.”
“You’ll be fine, it’s like riding a bike.”
I huff and stamp my foot like a child but she stares impassively at me, so I grab my purse and make my way around the bar. This is fine, I can do this. Just say hi. Doesn’t mean you have to marry the guy, Madelaine, chill out. But if he ignores me, I’ll die on the spot. That’s a promise. I pop myself in next to the guy in question, and God is a very apt description. Surely he’s a model. I could see him on a billboard somewhere, wrapped in leather and standing in front of a motorbike. What the hell was Lia thinking sending me over here? Yes, I get hit on as much as the next girl, but men are simple-minded. There is no way I am in the same league as this guy. He’s going to laugh in my face. I contemplate slinking back to Lia with my tail between my legs when the bartender calls over, asking me what I want. Busted. I order a shot of tequila. Clearly nerves are doing a number on me, as I hate the stuff. They place it down in front of me, and I’m suddenly aware of the stranger’s eyes boring into my skull. I take the shot, and with the amber liquid warming my throat, I turn and look straight into dusky green eyes. Don’t knock Dutch courage, that shit is priceless.
“Hi,” I blurt out. Nailed it.
“Hi.”
“You’re quite the starer,” I reply, his gaze still on me. He doesn’t react, his silence making me agitated. “Would you like a drink?”
“I think that’s my line.”
“I guess we’re role-playing now, then,” I say with an arch of my brow. I don’t know where that came from, but I don’t hate the confidence I gain from bantering with this guy.
His eyes flash and I heat, thanking the high heavens for my deep complexion that hides a flaming blush. Something in the back of my brain tells me to end this conversation and back away slowly, preferably without turning my back on him. Men like him are dangerous; I’m sure he could make me do things I’d never normally consider.
Before my brain can overrule my hormones, he answers me. “In that case, I’ll have a whiskey.”
“I would never order that, you’re terrible at this game,” I chide playfully.
His lips tilt into a full smirk, showing through ashy blonde stubble, which transforms his angelic resting face into one of pure sin. I want him to do it again and again. Making him smile is already addictive.
“Well, you’re me, aren’t you? So enjoy it.”
“Okay then,” I say, turning to the bartender, “he’d love a French martini, please.”
We’re silent while they make our drinks, me watching the bartender and him watching me. It makes my skin itch, in a good way. When the drinks are done I pay and he watches, amused. We both sip our drinks and wince.
“Maybe we should...” he starts, gesturing at our glasses for us to swap. “I never needed roleplay for a good time anyway.”
It’s sheer luck that I don’t spit my drink straight out. He takes the whiskey glass from my hand and takes a large gulp directly over where my lipstick has stained the edge.
I feel a phantom tingling in my lips and wet them with my tongue.
His gaze zeroes in on my bottom lip, and the tension between us feels too much. I have to clear my head before I climb him like a tree right here at the bar.
“Nice to meet you,” I say lamely before I walk back around the bar to Lia.
“What happened?” she asks the second I’m within earshot, but I can still feel his eyes on me. I down my drink before pulling her back into the crowd, away from his piercing gaze. I attempt to dance like nothing happened but Lia is having none of it.
“What happened?!” she echoes, and I sigh.
“Maybe it’s too much, too soon. I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“You think too much, you need a baptism of fire before you talk yourself out of it. Go with your gut for once and not your brain that only works at 250 miles an hour!”
I don’t give her a reply and she rolls her eyes before we lose ourselves to the rhythm of the music and the thumping beat of the dancefloor, while I try not to think only of those sage eyes.
Lia and I walk out an hour later gulping in fresh air after the close heat of the club, and we wander a short way down the street towards the taxi rank.
“Oh, look,” Lia says in a bored tone, pointing. “It’s your wet dream car.” An all black Hummer with tinted windows sits directly in front of the last waiting cab. I walk up to it and run my fingers softly down the side. She’s right. This baby is my ultimate life goal. I’ve always wanted one when I am officially a Bad Bitch With Her Life TogetherTM. As I caress the side, a voice from behind makes me jump.
“Do you want a ride, or are you happy to continue stroking it?”
Recognising the deep voice and blushing again at the insinuation, I spin to face the guy from the bar. He's bigger than he seemed in the dark club, closer to six and a half feet than six, with hair the same ashy blonde as his stubble. I normally don't go for man buns but this guy pulls it off, looking like a Viking in a three-piece suit. A type I never knew I had but definitely do now.
“You want two women to jump into a blacked-out gangster vehicle with someone they just met? Thanks but no thanks, even when the ride is that pretty.” He may have been sex walking, but I had some preservation instincts.
“Pretty?!” While he’s busy scoffing at the dent to his car’s image, I wander over to the last idling taxi. I turn to Lia, opening the door with one hand.
“We’ll get this-” but before I can finish my sentence, someone jumps in the other side and leans over, pulling the door shut again.
“Hey!” I shout, but the car is already peeling away from the curb.
“There’s that problem solved,” Lia grins, way too eager to get into the murder truck.
“We were going to hit the drive-thru on the way back,” I say petulantly, gesturing at the car. “Plus, yours is way too big to get in.” His lips twitch. Oh my God, what is wrong with me? Next week, I’ll be the designated driver. Maybe.
“We’ll work something out,” he says. He opens the door for us to climb in and I jump at the guy already behind the wheel. “This is Jeremy,” he offers as I take in the stern, older-looking gentleman who nods at us both. He has a definite authoritative air about him. I settle next to Lia, who is half asleep already, as the guy gets in the passenger seat.
Lia gets dropped off first, professing that she’s tired and wants to get back to Caus, but she’s full of shit and I vow she’ll pay the next time I speak to her. As she gets out, she hands me the key which I had definitely forgotten about, which brings her minutely back from the best-friend doghouse. The guy swaps to the backseat when Lia leaves and I think of asking his name, but he hasn’t asked mine. Maybe if I keep up these little invisible barriers, I’ll have more luck acting wild. I’m lost in thought of how attached you can get to someone without knowing their basic information and staring blindly out the window when he interrupts my inner musings.
“Come here,” he whispers. I’m torn between heating at his bossiness and raising my hackles.
“Er, excuse me. Do I look like some pet that obeys commands from where you’re sitting?” Okay, hackles raised. His eyes flash but I catch Jeremy’s smirk in the rear-view mirror, so I don’t get too worried.
“Come here, please,” he repeats. I scoot over an inch towards him but that’s clearly not good enough as he lifts and pulls so my legs lounge over one of his and his hand roots itself on my thigh. He acts nonchalant as he starts skating patterns over my jeans that feel nicer than I care to admit. As we drive along, his hand inches slowly higher until his knuckles brush my zipper whenever his fingers bend.
We park up and I’m so focused on keeping my breathing even that I haven’t realised we’ve reached Taco Bell. Wow, I must’ve really sounded childish if this is what he decided on, I don’t remember admitting to my favourite guilty pleasure.
“What is it you wanted? Jeremy’s going to go in.” On any other day I could probably recite their menu, but tonight my brain is not working to full capacity with his hand so close to my centre.
“Anything. Surprise me?” I ask with a smile to Jeremy, regretting making a big deal about food now. Jeremy slips out and as soon as the door shuts, the God’s hand is slipping through my hair and around the nape of my neck. I don’t have time to think before his lips are on mine. The kiss starts gently enough, our lips exploring each other and getting into a rhythm. It deepens and becomes hungrier as his tongue slips into my mouth.
My brain screams at me to slow down, but the erratic beat of my heart and the steady thump of arousal between my thighs drowns it out. He lifts my hips effortlessly so I’m straddling his lap and his hands move up over my waist. We’re still kissing frantically while he massages my breasts through my top.
I break away with willpower I didn’t know I possessed but he moves his lips to my jaw, nipping along and down my neck. “Jeremy will be back soon,” I say huskily, barely recognising my own voice.
He flicks the doors locked without pulling away and murmurs against my skin. “He’ll get the message.”
That doesn’t sound massively fair, but it has been 9 months since someone has kissed me, let alone like this. To be honest, the building exploding and free tacos raining from the sky couldn’t get me to stop, probably.
He undoes the clasps down the front of my top and presses his mouth to my free nipple, biting down slightly. I arch my back as the sensation travels straight to my core, rocking my hips and trying to create some friction between us, but my jeans restrict me.
“Who wears jeans to a club?” he grumbles, replacing his mouth on my breasts with his hand, kneading them in a way that has my breath hitching in my throat.
“They’re to stop me from making poor decisions.”
“How’s that going for you?” he asks as he undoes them, slipping his hand into my underwear.
Any coherent thoughts of answering fly out of my head as his fingers run along my slit to my entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls, as he slips two fingers inside me. I tense at the intrusion and he slows, capturing my mouth with his and kissing me senseless until my body relaxes. He slowly pumps his fingers inside me while the heel of his palm rubs against my clit. I moan as his free hand grips my hair and pulls slightly, arching my back further as he runs his tongue around my nipple, sucking it into his mouth. The sting from my scalp and the warm pressure from his mouth along with the magic he is weaving in my panties has me quickly on the edge of release. He releases my breast, mumbling into my neck, “So fucking hot. Once you’ve come all over my hand, you’re going to ride my cock.”. His words tip me over and I detonate around his fingers, releasing a scream which he swallows, kissing me and continuing with his fingers until I’ve ridden the whole orgasm out.
In what seems like the blink of an eye in my addled state, he flips me back onto my seat, pulling my jeans and now ruined panties off. He pulls me back over his lap and my brain swims a little with the alcohol and the orgasms and the moving. I grip his shoulders as he grabs my hips to steady me.
“You okay?” he asks, worry in his eyes.
I nod and lean into him, kissing him this time, not wanting this to stop. It’s not long before he takes back control and he pulls my hips back and forth, rubbing his cock from my swollen clit to my entrance, lining himself up. Suddenly, the door handle goes and I freeze. His lips continue to kiss down my neck as he repeats, “he’ll get the message”. The door doesn’t burst open and the kisses reach the soft patch under my ear, so I find it hard to worry.
“If you make my tacos go cold, I’ll castrate you,” I mutter.
“Better get on with it then, haven’t we?” He grips my ass and squeezes, pushing me down so he slips partway inside me and I gasp at his size. He stops and grunts as my fingernails dig so hard into his shoulders, they must draw blood. The sound of our laboured breathing fills the car.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans and grips my hips even harder, surely leaving bruises. He gives me a second to adjust to his girth before moving underneath me with shallow thrusts, but he’s way bigger than I was expecting.
“Relax, baby,” he whispers into my mouth as he kisses me slowly, gently circling my clit with his thumb and causing pleasure to run through my entire body. He slips deeper inside of me until he’s fully seated and a growl emanates from deep within his chest. We sit like that for a second until I’m desperate for some friction and start rolling my hips a little, investigating the sensation. He takes this as encouragement and guides me up and down his length, pumping from beneath me at the same time. They’re hard, fast strokes, coming nearly all the way out before slamming all the way home again.
Shattering in a ridiculously short time, I bite down on his shoulder to stifle another scream. I’m not too embarrassed as he follows me straight over the edge with a groan, his pulsing cock and the feel of him emptying inside me lengthening my orgasm. I rest my head on his shoulder and catch my breath for a moment before sliding off him with a wince, his erection still semi-hard. Not wanting to put my panties back on, I wrestle with my jeans while he tucks himself back into his trousers.
He reaches down and grabs my discarded panties from the footwell before I can, slipping them into his pocket. I wind both windows down to dissipate the smell of sex, and Jeremy notices from outside the restaurant. He hangs up the call he’s on and before the God or I can make any awkward post-sex small talk, heads back to the car.