Take Me Out (3 page)

Friday night during the seventh inning stretch, I was whisked off my feet and serenaded by a mysterious man who was sitting in front of me. I’ve never had so much fun in my life.

After the game he bought all the pictures the in-house photographers took and packaged them up in an adorable box, picking the best picture for a frame. Then he tracked me down just to give it to me in person.

I couldn’t care less about diamonds. My little picture frame with my out-of-a-movie moment is the best gift I’ve ever received.’

Chapter 2

I’ve Lost My Sanity

(Bentley)

What the hell was I thinking, serenading some random chick at Fenway Park? Although, to be honest, there was something captivating about her; I couldn’t think or see anyone else but her from the moment she looked at me.

I walked into my apartment with Andrew, still wondering if I had scared her off for good. Thanks to some intel from her friends, I had cornered her at Starbucks this morning to give her a present.
What am I, some kind of fucking cheese ball romantic now?

After the game at Fenway I ordered every last picture of the two of us. That night, Drew looked at me like I had lost my mind. In a way, I think I had. Then, I stalked Charlie to give her the gift.
I’m Bentley Young.
I don’t give women gifts! What the fuck?

I haven’t had a serious girlfriend since high school. Layla broke my heart. She was the only person I ever had feelings for. I wouldn’t say I loved her; I don’t know if I’ve ever really been in love, but I had pretty intense feelings for her. When I caught her with my then best friend, Jeremy, all bets were off and I swore I would never let another woman get close enough to hurt me. And I hadn’t all these years. I didn’t want a girlfriend. Until I met Charlotte. That was strange because I knew nothing about her, but I felt like I needed her in my life.

Between Layla and my mother, I hadn’t seen the point in opening myself up to any woman, which is why my attraction to Charlie was so confusing. I ran my fingers through my hair, something I only did when I was nervous, and looked down at the ground as I kicked a rock across the courtyard. I needed a way to process this entire thing, so I had taken a long walk. Sitting down on a bench my memories started to flood into my mind like a knife to my soul.

My mother had been a nightmare to live with. Between her love for cheap, boxed wine and whoring around the local bars, she was barely a mother to us, much less a loving one. Andre and I had the same father; at least that’s what we were told growing up. Our younger brother, Dallas, was the product of her live-in boyfriend, Ted. They didn’t last long but I could never forget that asshole. I think Dallas was two when Ted left my mother without an ounce of regard for his child.

I always wanted to find my biological father, but if he was anything like my mom it was probably better that I didn’t know him. My brothers and I eventually graduated high school and never looked back. California had become nothing but bad memories for us.

I always tried to search for something positive in between the memories of hate, but those moments were truly few and far between. The occasional comforting after a bad dream, or tenderness while we were sick was there, but only as long as it didn’t conflict with her social calendar.

I had been dealt a shitty hand in life, but like the saying goes,
life is what you
make of it.
It’s the creed I live by. I never wanted pity from anyone. I knew I wanted to get away from the life I grew up in so, as soon as I could, I was gone. My brothers had done the same.

Andre was serving in the United States Marine Corp, having completed two tours in Iraq a couple of years ago. Through promotions (and just being an overall badass) he was well on his way to becoming a Drill Instructor, something he always dreamed of as a child. Dallas, a freshman at NYU, was surprisingly bright and dedicated to his education, considering he’d been left to fend for himself. He got full scholarships. If he hadn’t, I would have covered the bill for any university he wanted to attend. I needed my brothers to be successful and happy.

Boston had been my safe haven, as far away from California as I could get. I hadn’t spoken to my mother since I graduated high school and I didn’t plan on starting again anytime soon. I wasn’t sure she knew where I was. God knew if she had ever even tried to pick up a phone to contact me.

Pulling myself out of my little trip down memory lane, I started walking back towards the modest apartment I shared with Andrew, my best friend and business partner.

Our freshman year, we were roommates in the dorms and stumbled upon a pretty kick-ass (and innovative) website idea. I had the brains and the tech skills and he had the money.

We sold our real estate pioneer site this spring for an obscene amount of money and moved on to the next project. Even though I could have, after that deal, I had no plans of dropping out of college. I still wanted to become a lawyer. It was a way to prove myself to the world; to prove my ability to myself.

My mind wandered back to Fenway Park just a few short nights ago. When I had found myself turning around and looking at Charlotte’s body, repeatedly. Thinking about how her curves would feel underneath me in bed. How her lips would feel pressed against mine. What exactly would my next move be?

“Hey Bentley, let’s go over to Quincy for some grub!” Andrew yelled from his bedroom snapping me out of my daydream about my newest fantasy, Charlotte Windsor.

I knew who she was because I’d seen her on campus, in the local papers and at the occasional party, but I never had the balls -- or enough interest -- to say anything to her. That was, until the game at Fenway.

While I watched her with her friends, my opinion changed. I always thought she was one of those uptight, snobby socialite bitches. But when she was at the game, I realized I had been completely wrong about her. She was just a normal girl.

As the game heated up, I couldn’t stop glancing back at Charlie, thinking of what I wanted to do to her. Before that night, my thoughts of her included something like bending her over and fucking her senseless before sending her on her way into the night. Sitting on the third baseline at Fenway, I was taken aback when my mind flashed with intimate moments unlike anything I had ever thought before; romance, flowers, candles... all that bullshit from the movies filled my thoughts. Laying her down in my bed and tasting every inch of her skin.
God I bet her pussy tastes amazing.
That was the kind of stuff she deserved, at least in my mind.

Charlotte Windsor was a challenge that I wanted to take on.

“Bentley! Dude... snap out of it! Let’s go!” Drew barked again.

“Sorry, I’m …” my voice trailed off as I tried to find the words I was looking for.

“I know, that girl has you all sorts of fucked up,” Drew laughed, grabbing his wallet and cell phone before making his way to the door.

As we sat down to devour our lunches, Drew looked at me like he wanted to laugh in my face. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“So, what are you going to do?” He asked me. I knew he was referring to the situation with Charlie. I couldn’t answer him because I didn’t even know myself.

“I have no idea dude. What do you think I should do?”

“I think you should throw yourself into it. Let go of your sketchy fear of women. But, that’s just me.” Drew looked at me and shoved a hand full of French fries into his mouth without an ounce of grace.

“I’m going to have to think about this... spend some more time with her and see where it goes on its own.” But in reality my infatuation was beyond
seeing where things were going
.

I decided then and there to be open, but not a doormat. There had to be more to life than one-night stands, baseball and booze. I had to set limits for myself. Things could easily get out of control and I needed to be in control at all times. I blamed the chaos of my childhood for turning me into a control freak. I flashed back to thoughts of my mother again, drunk and passed out on the couch in nothing but her underwear. She would stumble home from the bar with whatever new fling she had for the night and use the living room as her own personal Motel 6 while we tried to sleep. I could always hear them. The panting, drunk men demanding my mother get on her knees or talking about how good of a fuck she was. That is, until they were done, of course.

They would get up and walk out, treating her like a piece of discarded trash. That would always cue her inevitable meltdown and the knockdown, drag-out fight. She was always stupid enough to think she was more than a good lay. Sad to think that way of your own mother, but these men are the ones who taught me how to treat women. Those guys had a steady stream of commitment-free good times focused around whatever alcohol-infused fuck fest they had planned for the night.

It wasn’t how I wanted to be, it was just the life I had grown to know thanks to my douche-bag mother and her revolving door of men who didn’t treat her right. I wanted to change; to be a better man. My chest swelled slightly at the thought of Charlotte being the person to show me how.

My life was complicated. I was damaged, but weren’t we all fucked up in some way? We all had demons in our closets. Mine just happened to focus around not being able to count on the women in my life and a fucked up idea of how to treat those women. With Charlotte, I could almost picture having that white, picket fence family that I always wanted when I saw the other kids at school with their parents. I wondered if I was too damaged to have a normal relationship.
I hope not.

My biggest question to myself was why? Where had all these foreign feelings come from? They had crept up on me and hit me like a fucking freight train in the middle of the third baseline.

Chapter 3

School’s Out For Summer

(Charlotte)

As I finished up a couple of corrections on my last final exam of the week,
my phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored it so I could finally be done with this exam. For some reason, this semester seemed longer than any other in my three years here at Boston U. Maybe it was all the damn dating drama with the asshole from the Pi Kappa Alpha house, Ian. Just thinking about him pissed me off.

Hell, he was still a giant thorn in my ass. He simply didn’t understand what the word
no
meant. I was over him trying to stick his dick in me any time he had one too many drinks. We broke up in March right after some fancy frat dance they had at his house, where he berated me for not putting out in front of
oh say
, four hundred people. I had never been so embarrassed in my entire life.

Photos had ended up all over Facebook of my tear stained, red face after the fallout. I tried to shake the memory out of my mind and grabbed my phone to check who was trying to get a hold of me now. New e-mail!

From:
[email protected]

Subject: Secret Admirer

Date: May 13 16:35

To: Charlotte A. Windsor

I hope you enjoyed your present. I know you are busy with finals but I would love to take you out for something to eat sometime -- if you’re interested, of course. Hope to hear from you soon.

-The Hot Guy who gave you that Mystery Gift

My heart skipped a beat, maybe even a few. Just the thought of him made my pulse race.
He knows I wrote about him on my blog. He knows how I felt about Friday night. He wants to see me again. What do I do? Dammit, where is Shay when I need her?

It was time to leave. I was done, free for the summer. An adrenaline rush of freedom hit me. I was going to make the best of the months off I had ahead of me. There would be baseball, the beach and a hell of a lot of beer!

I grabbed Jake by the arm and we left our seats heading for the door. As we rounded the corner and headed down the hallway he looked at me with a serious look of mischief in his eyes and said, “You gonna do it?”

“Do what?”

“Go out to eat with him! You didn’t think I wasn’t looking over your shoulder when you read that? You should know me better than that!” He giggled like a little girl.

I whipped my phone back out in a hurry to reply. I knew if I didn’t do it right that minute, there was no way I’d be able to get up the nerve to say yes or even reply at all. I had a feeling Bentley Young was not one to be ignored.

From: Charlotte A. Windsor

Subject: An Answer

Date: May 13 16:48

To:
[email protected]

Thank you for the invite, Mr. Young. I would like to take you up on your offer. Why don’t you join me this evening at my apartment? Bring your favorite take out. Surprise me. I want to be on my own turf. Fair?

The address is 1330 Boylston Street, 13
th
floor – Apartment 1308

See ya at 7?

-Charlie

I held my breath as I hit send. It was short notice, but tomorrow I would be with my parents all day long. I’d been holding them off long enough with the excuse of school, but I could use a home-cooked meal by Miss Emma, our family cook. That’s one of the few things I missed about living in our family house in Cambridge. It wasn’t far, but dealing with my parents involved a lot of patience and I just wasn’t up for the stress or my annoying and insanely overprotective brothers.

Jake and I strolled towards my car, a silver BMW X5. Ever since I was in a car accident in high school in a small car, I needed to be behind the wheel of an SUV. We chatted about the blonde bimbo from the game the other night. I can’t imagine how someone who has no desire to be with a woman can bang so many of them. Apparently she was a pretty good time. “Did you at least call her back on Saturday?” All I got was a blank stare with a hint of a smile... Well, I guess that meant no. And I was taking relationship advice from him?

Buzzzzzz.

I couldn’t grab my phone fast enough. Another e-mail from Bentley was waiting in my inbox. I could feel the butterflies building in my stomach, a completely foreign feeling for me.

From:
[email protected]

Subject: Deal

Date May 13 16:59

To: Charlotte A. Windsor

Game on.

See you at 7.

-B

“I guess I’ve got myself a date tonight!” I giggled like I was back in middle school again. I had a couple of hours to get home, throw together something cute to wear and shave. I hadn’t had to deal with all that since breaking up with the douche-bag from the frat.

I knew there was no way I was going to let him get that close to me, but when you have a guy coming over, it only seems like the right thing to do.

I pulled into the parking garage and headed up to my apartment. I jumped in the shower and grabbed my razor, daydreaming about Bentley. I couldn’t do anything but remember the way he touched me, the dancing and that amazing, life-altering kiss. It was still haunting me-- in a good way. The connection we shared was intense. I could see his bright blue eyes every time I closed my eyes. My thoughts wandered to him being right here in the shower with me. Running my hands all over his wet chest.
Damn I bet he has an incredible body underneath that shirt he had on the other night.

My typical fifteen minute shower turned into a half-hour one and finally I realized I was turning into a prune. Not really all that attractive, even if I wasn’t trying to impress this guy.
Who was I fooling? I wanted to impress him all right!

I dried off and threw on the outfit I laid out. A long black and pink stripped maxi dress I could skip a bra with and a pair of flats which would be totally appropriate around the house. I dried my hair and straightened it, leaving it flowing down to the middle of my back. I slid a long beaded necklace on, then ran the brush through my hair one last time. When I felt my ensemble was complete, I waited in the living room, flipping on NESN and opening my laptop.

Even though I’d been the one to invite Bentley here, I had butterflies bouncing around in my stomach. I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, hoping it would ease the flush I felt building in my face. I didn’t want to look like my mother during a hot flash when he showed up at my door.

I wanted to see if I could dig anything up on my mystery man before he was enjoying dinner in my apartment. I really should have done this before I hastily agreed to the date. I opened Facebook and typed in his name. His page popped up immediately.

Bingo
! I felt like a total stalker but
whatever
. Isn’t that what every girl did before they went on a date with a guy?

I didn’t bargain for what I found though. Picture after picture with hot blondes. Kissing them, groping them, all smiles and of course, drinks in their hands. The more I found the more the butterflies in my stomach turned into wasps. I felt sick. He was one of
those
campus sluts. I bet he thought he would come over tonight, bang me and never call again. This whole night had become a horrible idea.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Charlotte!

My heart broke just in time to hear a knock on the door.
FUCK! He’s here!
I didn’t want to see him at all after what I found online and now he was standing outside my door. Before I could compose myself, Shay let him in.

I slammed my laptop closed, placed it down on the coffee table and turned around with a smile that was far from genuine. It was a trick I had learned from my mother over the years. When Shay saw my face, she knew something was up. She left us alone in the spacious kitchen, but stayed close enough to eavesdrop and come to my rescue if need be.

“Hi,” I said, trying to be cordial.

“Hey, I grabbed Chinese. I hope that’s okay,” Bentley said holding up the two huge bags. His eyes were wide as saucers looking around my apartment in shock. The high white ceilings, floor to ceiling glass on the far wall with a big screen television hanging smack dab in the middle was far from what most people expect when visiting a college student’s home. The TV was my favorite part of the living room area. There was nothing better than watching a baseball game on such a monstrous TV, except maybe being at Fenway. His reaction was the very reason I rarely entertained.

Instead of dinner at the table, I suggested we eat in the living room for comfort.

“What did you do, buy everything on the menu?” I laughed at him. I was grateful that my mood was beginning to lighten; no doubt because it was impossible to be mad while looking at his gorgeous face and perfect mouth smiling back at me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the images I came across on Facebook out of my head.

“I got one of everything I thought you might like from my favorite Chinese place.” His face started to blush as he gave a small unsure smile; almost as if he was embarrassed by going a little overboard. I picked up the bag of food, walked toward living room, while he followed closely behind.

“Come into the living room. We’ll eat and watch the game. We’re out in Toronto tonight,” I said. He looked shocked that I was enough of a fan to not only know where the Red Sox were playing, but to want to catch the game on TV.

I’m sure baseball and Chinese food wasn’t what he’d envisioned when he asked about getting together. Food and fooling around was probably more his style, given the bimbos I’d seen in pictures with him, but he was in a whole new league whether he knew it or not.

As the night went on, my mood continued to improve. I almost forgot about all the shit I found on the Internet. Everyone has a past; I should know that better than anyone. Most of Boston knew my wild teen years, but this man before me either didn’t know, or didn’t care. Who was I to judge him based on a few pictures on a social networking site?

We talked about our families. I warned him about my intense overprotective brothers and my best friend. I learned he was one of three boys raised by a single mother who was no longer part of his life, but he wouldn’t elaborate on the details. I could see the pain behind his eyes when he spoke about her. I instantly felt like an asshole for bringing up family at all. He told me about how he was a pre-law student at Boston University --
yawn.
He grew up in San Diego and moved to Boston permanently when he started college, to get away from the life he was living. The more he shared, the more mystery there was. Half of what he said left me with more questions than answers.

Despite the mystery, there was a connection between us. Something I’d never felt before. It certainly had a sexual aspect to it, but it was so much more. We meshed perfectly regardless of our differences.

The next thing I knew, it was one o’clock in the morning. The evening had flown by. Shay had gone to bed two hours ago and I seemed to be holding my own, thankfully. As long as Bentley wasn’t touching me, I had all my wits.

“I think it’s time we say goodnight,” I said with a frown as I got up off the black leather sectional and headed towards the door with Bentley. I was a little light-headed, but I attributed that to the six pack of Sam Adams we split during the game.

“Thank you for such a wonderful evening, Charlie. I would love to see you again if you’d like,” he said, staring at the tips of his shoes and running his fingers through his hair. He appeared worried that I would run after our deep conversation. He looked unsure of himself, self-conscious, completely unlike his usual domineering attitude.

He held my hand on the way to the front door. At his touch, all rational thought left me. I needed him to put his lips on me. I was aching to feel more of him against more of me.
What had gotten into me?

Once we reached our destination, he leaned down and planted a single soft kiss on my lips, just like he did that night at Fenway. His lips were so soft and the electricity between us was beyond belief. It left me wanting more. When he respectfully pulled away like most modest girls would hope for, I blurted out, “That’s it?”

It was as though my mouth just spit the words out before my mind could catch up with its actions. I looked at him, hoping he wasn’t as horrified by my outburst as I was. “I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean --” but before I could finish trying to apologize, his lips were on mine again. In an instant, my back was up against the front door and I was ensconced in his arms. As he lifted me off the ground I wrapped my legs around his waist the best I could in my long flowing dress.
Bad choice of apparel for the evening!
His tongue darted in and out of my mouth with urgency as I massaged it with mine. It was more than just a good kiss; it was the best kiss of my life. Our evening had just gone from a respectful first date with no touching, to heated passion with one kiss.

If this was going to set the tone for our relationship, we were both in for some trouble.

I was so focused on the kiss, I didn’t realize we were moving. Once I was aware of the direction in which we were traveling, I knew what he wanted from me. In this stupid dress he had easy access too. I started to pull away but he kept kissing me. Next thing I knew, we were on my bed.

My mind became a giant jumbled mess. The internal fight with myself was overwhelming. My body was begging for his touch and my mind was telling me to get as far away from him as I could and send him packing.

“I... I... I can’t do this,” I whispered as he looked at me utterly puzzled.

“Do what?” he replied looking at me puzzled.

“I can’t have sex with you.” I could only imagine that he could see the combination of embarrassment and shame on my face.
I have this hot guy in my bed and I told him I can’t have sex with him. Yup embarrassing isn’t even the word for this!
By the way he looked at me as the words left my lips -- the same lips that wanted him more than anything at that moment -- I knew my expression had given me away.

“Sex? Whoa... who said anything about sex?” He said with a laugh.

“Well, I just assumed since we’re now in my bedroom, on my bed, that you wanted a piece of ass and I simply can’t give you what you want.” My tone started to sound brazen.

“I don’t want to have sex with you,” he stated bluntly. Even though I wasn’t ready to go there with him, his words stung. “I want to make love to you. You’re different from anyone I’ve ever known,” Bentley whispered in my ear as he gently ran his tongue down my earlobe and his fingers through my hair.

He was good.
I wondered how many other girls had gotten that same line from him. I couldn’t be much different, right?

“I can’t do that either, Bentley. I...I... it’s just a special thing for me.” The fact was that I’d never been promiscuous, but in that moment, I hated saying the words. I winced as I spoke the words. It was extremely embarrassing to have to admit to basically being celibate as a grown woman.

Here’s a beautiful man whispering sweet nothings into my ear and I just shut him down.

“That’s okay, Charlotte. We don’t need to have sex or make love right now.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he kissed me again, deeper, with more passion than any of our previous kisses. Something new flowed between us, more than just the lust that had filled our recent moments. With each kiss, we were rolling all over my bed, side-to-side, all while his hands explored my breasts over my clothes, as respectfully as possible in the heated situation. I really wished I had absolutely no morals in that moment.

The longer we made out, the more I wanted to throw my virginity out the window and let him take me right then and there.

My mind had become a mess of thoughts and internal arguments.
Should I? Shouldn’t I? Why did I feel so strongly for a stranger? What was this connection we had formed in one short night?
The questions never stopped.

Hours passed in mere minutes. I looked at my clock and looked back at Bentley, fighting to keep my eyes open. I couldn’t believe it was already four in the morning. I couldn’t remember the last time I was awake past two, let alone in bed making out for hours on end. It felt like high school all over again.

“I’ve got to get out of here before I fall asleep,” he said with a huge yawn. I felt bad. He shouldn’t have to make his way back across town to his apartment this time of night.

“You can stay. Just no funny business.” I made my way across the room to my dresser and stripped off my dress. It didn’t faze me to be standing in front of him in nothing but pink panties; nudity was something I had no problem with, even though most women have hang-ups about it. I slipped on an over-sized t-shirt, realizing this should be a time when there was a problem with my partial nudity.

From the other side of the room, Bentley stared at my choice of sleepwear. “Is that a Hatebreed t-shirt?” He asked, unable to hide the shock in his voice.

“Sure is. They’re one of my favorite bands,” I replied, a smile growing on my face.

He took his shirt and jeans off and stood there in just his strained boxers. The look in his eyes was something between lust and hunger, making me a bit nervous. I might as well have been drooling all over the place as he stripped. The bulge of his erection against his boxers looked like the thin fabric wouldn’t be able to hold it back much longer.

My eyes lingered over the outline of his cock covered by his boxers. Stuck inside my head I didn’t even realize I had been staring.

“No need to worry.” He said with a smirk on his face. “No funny business, remember? I promised.”

We both slid under the covers as if we would be able to stay away from each other. He curled up tight behind me as I turned the light off and rolled over so my back was to him. I felt so safe and secure in his arms, almost like I belonged there. My mind was racing about the events of the night. I was beyond exhausted.

Even though we should’ve both fallen asleep quickly, we continued to talk. The sexual tension was there, but we both did our best to mask it as if it didn’t exist.