Just a Number (Thirst Trap #2)

5. Alex

Chapter five

Alex

I ’m heading to a session at the pottery studio when I get a text.

Zack:

Wanna kick my arse at racing again?

Me:

When?

Zack:

Tonight? At mine?

My pulse kicks up when I think of going back to Zack’s place and maybe bumping into Mel. More than once in the last week, it has been her on my mind, when my hand was gripped around my hard cock, pumping it to completion. The way she’d laid sprawled out on her bed, watching television. I’d pictured that many different ways—with my head between her thighs, her dress pushed up, tasting her cunt. Both of us naked, me on top, easing my cock into her hot pussy.

Me:

I’m waiting to hear if the bar need me. Can I let you know?

Zack:

It’s a school night. Surely they won’t be that busy?

Me:

Probably not. What time you thinking?

Zack:

7ish?

Me:

That should work. If I’ve not heard from them by then, I should be clear. I’ll text if I’m on my way.

Zack:

Sweet. Catch ya later.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to get away from the house. I try not to be home all that often. My stepdad, Doug, is a pain in the arse. He’s wanted me gone since he got together with my mum when I was in primary school. Years later, and he can’t shut up about his plans to convert my room into a man cave when I leave. Twat.

It’s not like I don’t want to leave, but I need to save up enough money and that’s hard when a lot of my time is tied up with the pottery apprenticeship. Not for the first time, I wonder about quitting it to get a full-time job so I can get out sooner, but nothing else interests me and I don’t want to be stuck in a job I hate, wishing I’d done this when I had the chance.

At least the pottery work is during the day and there’s plenty of casual work available in the evenings and weekends. I’m really hoping the casual position at the bar becomes more permanent with regular hours. They’re a good crowd and the boss is a decent guy. He even said that one of the regular staff members might be leaving soon and that’s why Tom took me on—to get me trained up and ready to take over.

And it’s not like I need a castle to live in, just a room in a flatshare would be fine. I really need to take the leap and start looking. I’ve got some savings from my grandparents. I used some to buy my bike and I’m trying to decide if I should use the rest to buy a kiln after my apprenticeship finishes.

I could ask my sister if she knows anyone looking for a lodger or roommate. As a tattoo artist, Laura knows bloody everyone.

I shoot her a quick text:

Me:

Hey, loser. Know of anyone looking for a flatmate?

Laur:

Shit, what’s Doug done now?

Her quick response must mean that she’s between clients right now.

Me:

Nothing new, just being the usual dickhead. But I think I need to get out sooner rather than later.

Laur:

I’ll ask around. What’s new?

Me:

Nothing much, started casual shifts at The Thirst Trap this month. Hoping it will lead to something more permanent.

Laur:

Ah, I love it in there - let me know when you’re working and I’ll bring the crew in and make sure they give you loads of tips!

Me:

Will do. Off to make shit on the pottery wheel. Let me know if you hear of anywhere I could stay.

Laur:

On it. Love you x

Me:

Whatever, loser! x

I tuck my phone away in my pocket as I arrive at the studio, ready to roll my sleeves up and lose myself in the clay for a few hours.

By 6 pm I’m back at home. The bar doesn’t need me, but I got a text from Abby to arrange a quiet time for me to go in and practice cocktails one day before my shift. I’ve mostly been clearing tables and taking food out to customers, so it’s promising that they’re asking me to train up behind the bar. Fingers crossed it all works out and I get some more regular shifts soon.

I’m just warming up some leftovers to scoff down before I head to Zack’s when the front door opens and slams shut. I grit my teeth. There’s only one person in this house that arrives with that much attitude. Dammit, I was really hoping I’d be back out of here before he got home. The microwave dings and I grab a fork from the drawer. No need for crockery. If I eat the pasta-bake out the dish it’s already in, there’s less cleaning up.

I’m making my way over to the table in the corner to eat when Doug appears in the doorway. He looks more worse for wear than usual. He’s wearing smart trousers and a shirt, but his tie is half undone and hanging round his neck. His cheeks are ruddy, and even from this distance, I can smell the alcohol on him.

“Little early in the evening to be this hammered, isn’t it, Dougie?” He hates it when I call him that. His eyes narrow as he looks over at me and clocks what I’m eating.

“You little shit. That was my dinner.”

“Didn’t see your name on it. Finders keepers.” I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just can’t stop myself riling him up at every opportunity.

“Where’s your mother?”

I shrug. “Still at work, I guess.”

He frowns. “She should be back by now.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dougie. Maybe she’s avoiding you.”

He makes his way over and collapses into a chair opposite me, which is strange. He doesn’t tend to hang around and make conversation. I do my best to ignore him, although I’m convinced I could get drunk from the fumes coming off him.

“I think it’s time you move out. Give your mother and me some space. She spent all those years raising you and your sister and here you are, still leeching off her.”

“I pay to live here.”

“Well, it ain’t enough. You eat all the food. Time you grew up and acted like the adult you are now.” His speech is slow and pronounced, like he’s really having to concentrate.

“Like you, you mean?” I poke the bear; it’s too tempting.

“Sitting around making vases and cups. That’s not gonna earn your keep. You need to get a proper job. You should be labouring. You don’t know the meaning of hard work.” Disgust clouds his features.

“What crawled up your ass? You’re being more of a dick than usual.”

“Fed up with seeing your face every time I come home. Me and your mother want the place to ourselves.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because once I’ve finished this, I’ll be out for the night. And then I’m working all weekend.”

He stumbles as he heaves himself out of the chair. I don’t know what my mum sees in him. He’s always been a cunt. At least he’s never lifted a hand to her, but the mouth on him is always abusive. He drags himself to the fridge and pulls out a beer. It takes him several attempts to grab the bottle opener from the drawer and I snigger as I walk past him to the sink.

He takes me completely off guard when he spins around, faster than I could have ever thought possible, even if he was sober. He leers at me, stepping up close and breathing alcohol fumes into my face.

“You little fucker. Don’t you laugh at me.”

It takes everything in me not to laugh again. He pokes my chest once, then again, harder. “I want you out of here.”

“I’m working on it, Dougie.”

“Not fast enough. You fucking parasite.”

I heave a sigh. There’s no point arguing with him, so I decide to wait him out. He’ll remember his beer soon and get out of my hair.

Sure enough, he lurches to the counter to lift the beer and bottle opener he dropped there.

“Make yourself useful, open this.” He goes to pass them to me but loses his grip and they both fall to the ground, the bottle shattering on impact.

“What the fuck did you do that for?”

“You dropped it, Dougie, not me.” I try to rein in the sarcasm, but it’s difficult.

He storms at me, pushing at my chest. He’s right in my face now and I see his fist making its way towards my jaw from my periphery. I push him, not too hard, but enough to have him stumble back.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me. I will end you.” My anger rises up like a fever.

Why the fuck is this man living in my home?

What does my mum see in him?

I can’t stay here.

I need to cool down.

I storm out of the kitchen, pausing to grab my leather jacket and keys from where I left them. I shrug the coat on and check my pocket for my phone. There’s nothing else I need. I shut the front door gently behind me, refusing to slam it like my stepfather regularly does. I want to be nothing like that pathetic excuse for a man.

Out in the garage, I sling a leg over my bike and start her up. Straight away, I’m comforted by the purr of the engine between my legs. Being on the bike soothes me and gives me a chance to get out of my head. As the automatic garage door opens, I rev the bike and head out.

I don’t go straight to Zack’s. I know I need to calm down first. I take the bike for a ride, heading out to the more rural roads outside of town. There’s hardly any traffic, and I gradually lose the tightness in my shoulders from the encounter with Doug. I really have to move out of there as soon as I can.

Once I’ve cooled off, I head over to Zack’s place. I pull the bike up in the driveway and note the silver SUV parked there. Mel’s car. I hope that means she’s home. Getting another look at Zack’s hot mum wouldn’t be bad at all. I can’t stop thinking about how good she’d looked standing there in her skimpy pj’s. Fuck, I have to stop. I can’t walk into Zack’s house with a boner, dammit.

I take a moment, counting backwards from fifty, as I will my stiffening cock to calm the fuck down. Maybe I need to get laid sometime soon and take my mind off my friend's mum.

Once there’s no hint of a tent in my jeans, I ring the doorbell. Footsteps approach from the other side as I wait for the door to open.

The door swings open and Mel stands there. She’s wearing a black pencil skirt that curves over her hips, paired with a silky-looking blouse that comes down to a V at the top of her ample cleavage. She’s wearing tights or stockings, but her feet are bare of shoes and I can’t help but wonder if she was wearing killer heels with the outfit. Her legs are shapely and I want to run my hands up them and discover for myself if it’s stockings she’s got on.

I realise myself, standing here checking out my mate’s mum when I should be politely saying hello. I meet her gaze and there’s that delicate flush on her cheeks again.

“Hi, Alex.” Her voice is soft and I love the way she says my name. It makes me want to hear her chant it in my ear as I pound into her.

“Hey, Zack home?”

“Sure is. He’s expecting you. Come on in.” She moves back and holds the door open for me. I step up to the same level as her and with no shoes on, she’s much shorter than my 6 foot 1. I get a thrill at the size difference between us. She seems as delicate as my most fragile ceramic pieces.

She closes the door as I crouch down to take off my biker boots, noticing that she hovers and I hope it’s because she enjoys looking at me. I glance up at her from my crouched position and see her lips part. Her chest rises with her breath and then she pinches her bottom lip between her teeth. I can’t take my eyes off her. I want to get to know her better.

“Busy day at work?”

She startles at my question, clearly lost in her own thoughts. “Yes, it was. Grateful to be home to relax.”

“What have you got planned?”

“Err, some reading. Have you eaten?”

“I grabbed some leftovers before I came over.”

“Ah, okay, Zack is just finishing his dinner now. He’s in the kitchen.”

“Sorry if I disturbed your meal.” I stand and tuck my boots beside the front door before I shrug off my leather jacket. She reaches her hand out and gestures to take it.

“All good, I was already finished. Let me hang this up for you. Head on through to the kitchen. There’s Coke or beer in the fridge if you want one.”

“Thanks, I’ve got the bike, so I’ll stick to non-alcoholic tonight.” I give her a smile. She’s standing watching me, clasping my jacket tightly. “Careful with my jacket. It’s precious.” I give her a wink and her blush intensifies. She spins round and hangs it on a hook, but I notice how her hand brushes down the soft, worn leather before she pulls away.

“Head through. I’ll see ya later.”

I try to contain my disappointment when she heads for the stairs, no doubt to disappear to the quiet of her room.

I wander through to the kitchen and Zack’s sitting at the breakfast bar where we all ate at the weekend, laughing at a video he’s watching on his phone.

“Hey,” I say to get his attention.

“Hey, man. Come and watch this. It’s hilarious.” He gestures me over and I lean at the counter beside him to watch a video of a guy trying to reel in a massive fucking fish. “How are you?”

“Yeah, alright. My stepdad is being a complete twat, but that’s not new. You don’t know anyone looking for a flatmate, do you?” I ask with a hopeful lilt in my voice. I really need to get away from Doug. I want my independence.