The Rebel

Liam

Liam

I know why he did it. I know why he took me away from London, what this big issue is with the girls. he does this every year, on the anniversary of Zoey’s death. He doesn’t want me to be on my own in case I would do something stupid, even though he shouldn’t assume that. I wouldn’t kill myself. I don’t even give it a thought. I won’t say it never crossed my mind during the first months, but I eventually chose the crappier way. To live on without her. This is Dylan Stark’s method to show his brotherly love to me, and well, let’s admit it, it could be worse.

I know it’s not too elegant, but I’m drinking red wine out of the bottle sitting on the beach, while watching the others fooling around. Of course, Dylan talked me into calling Chelsea, although I still don’t know for sure if it was a good idea. She’s not a minor, we clarified that much at the beginning. I also got it soon enough that she likes me, it wasn’t too hard to see from the show she did for us at the car. I was a bit surprised she wasn’t hitting on Dylan, because these little girls usually fall for him. Anyhow, he is right, I should open up, relax, take things easier. I mean, women. This Chelsea is also cute, and from the way she is shaking her tushy in front of the fire, fixing her eyes on me, I know I can get her anytime, yet… Something’s missing. The challenge, the excitement, the butterflies in the stomach. That certain, damned spark. I heave a deep sigh, lift my glass to her, and take a long drag from the bottle. This is great wine, some Merlot. If I empty the bottle, my worries might disappear together with the expectations.

“Should I bring you a glass, mate?” Dylan stops in front of me with hands on his hips, shaking his head with resentment. One of Chelsea’s female friends is holding onto him from behind, and judging from the private pose, they have already got pretty friendly. “It’s a 2005 Merlot Tignanello from Tuscany. A crystal glass is the minimum for it.”

“That’s why it’s so good, then. Viva Italia!” I nod and take another drag.

I know Dylan is irritated by this, so I often give him a hard time. he’s the great wine expert from the two of us, and he finds it sacrilegious if I don’t drink in style. But right now, I don’t give a damn about the crystal glass. I don’t want to think, I don’t want to remember, and for the booze to numb my senses, I don’t need a glass.

He shakes his head with resignation and sits down next to me.

“Hey, my beauty,” he slaps the girl’s butt. “Go and tell your friend that Liam is bored. She might have an idea to cheer him up.”

The girl begins to howl with amusement, but goes to get Chelsea with obedience.

“I don’t need your help if I want to shag,” I tell him, but my tongue already fails to cooperate. I suspect the two glasses of vodka I downed before the wine, has contributed to that.

“Really?” he looks at me with raised eyebrows. “That’s not how I see it. Your d**k is going to fall off if you don’t use it soon.”

“I do.”

“Wanking under the shower doesn’t count.”

I drop my head back and laugh out loud. What do I say to that? I’m pathetic.

“Man, you’re sick,” I answer, but there is no time for more, because the girls are back.

Chelsea sits close to me. her breasts are rubbing against my arm. I close my eyes, I let her push herself against me. She leans over to my ear and whispers all kinds of nonsense, but her closeness no longer bothers me, it actually is nice. The heat of her body, the way she hugs my neck make me feel like I’m alive and want to be alive. Dylan’s right, m**********g under the shower in the morning does not replace real, wild or gentle lovemaking with a woman. It can’t even replace casual s*x. I don’t know what the future will bring, but I know I can’t go on like this anymore. Four years ago, in a sense, my life stopped, and since then I have only been vegetating, breathing in and out, without really being alive. I need to move on, I must, and who knows, little Chelsea might be the first step towards freedom. I shouldn’t think so much, I should simply throw myself in the middle. I love s*x, seriously, but it’s really crap that I enjoyed it so much more while I did it with not some random chicks, but with Zoey. It really sucks, but for some reason feelings are necessary for it. I won’t say I can’t do it without them, but it’s not the same. I want s*x, I do, but I want love just as much.

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“How’s your face? Will you survive?” Dylan asks with a grin, turning towards me while driving.

I smooth the place of the slap on my face, but it doesn’t hurt. “I know a good dentist, if you think so,” he carries on, at which I give him a threatening look.

“You will need one if you don’t cut it out.”

“The problem is, you’re overthinking it, using your brain instead of your d**k,” he goes on, shaking his head slowly.

I close my eyes trying to disregard him as he continues being smart, but then images from last night fill my head. I don’t blame Chelsea for having slapped me. Let’s admit it, a woman is not happy to hear someone else’s name from her partner’s mouth right before orgasm. I couldn’t have been a bigger arsehole, even though I was so determined to have a good time. We went into the boathouse, everything’s great. I stripped her, her butt was a little flimsy, but otherwise everything was great. She took off my shirt, pulled down my fly, and although she took it into her hands too quickly, everything was great. We were kissing, that was great too. I laid her onto a blanket, rolled the condom on, got inside her and began to move, all according to plan. While she moaned my name, I imagined Zoey in front of me, like under the shower, everything was great. She pleads with me to go faster, harder, and do my job, it’s all great. I’m five seconds from cumming, when my late wife’s name spills from my lips… Not great at all. Chelsea froze under me, her eyes sparkling with anger, and she gave me such a slap that my ears were ringing all night. Now it’s evident I couldn’t lecture on “How to enjoy spontaneous s*x with a random partner”.

“If it puts you at ease,” Dylan’s voice takes me out of my musings, “I’ll tell you I couldn’t get it up. I had had too much before.”

I look at him raising my eyebrows.

“And why should that put me at ease?”

“How the hell should I know?” he shrugs. “Maybe it does good to your sensitive little soul that you’re not the only loser here who was wanking all alone under the shower this morning.”

Brilliant…

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