The Attraction Of David

Chapter 10

Just a moment ago, the beautiful man beside me was stroking my leg, which thankfully had been brought to an end once the server arrived with the food we have ordered.

Stanley and I have not talked, even once, after we sat down. And it felt like we didn’t have to. What he did to communicate was brush his leg against mine. The fact that I liked what he did was stressful.

I overlooked what Stan had done and paid rapt attention to the two conversational women in front of us. They looked so happy being together, while Stanley and I, on the other hand, couldn’t justify the idea that we were friends, like what I have claimed to them when they prodded me about it.

I peered over at Kate as she listened attentively to Jean, who spoke about fashion school and how much fun it was. They were submerged in the topic as they conversed about beauty trends that I couldn’t help but listen as I chewed on the food. The place, as always, was amazing with what they serve. We settled for the signature Chicago-style pizza, four plates of buffalo wings, and a bucket of ice-cold beer.

“So, you two work together?” Jean asked, her manicured fingers, holding the half-eaten chicken wings she claimed she loved with all her soul. “For how long?” she furthered.

The suddenness of the query made me turn my attention to her.

“Two years top?” I answered while I nibbled on the food. “I can’t even remember. All I know is she’s incredible, and I admire her enthusiasm at the company,” I pursued and carried my attention to Kate.

Kate beamed at me. “Said the guy who always gets praises for his suggestions. Believe me, David is remarkable in handling the clients, he’s superb.” She winked.

Wow, this wasn’t so bad as I thought. I even neglected the tightness of the spot I was perched in. The positive atmosphere, the taste of the awesome food on my mouth, and the company I was with were what I truly needed.

I’m genuinely glad that I was here. Well, for Stan, I couldn’t tell. I hoped he was since he was silent, probably had no choice but to listen.

“Wow,” Jean said, nodding her head at Kate’s compliments for me. “Not to mention, he’s really good-looking. I wonder why you’re still single, David.”

I had to laugh at what she said. “I am flattered, thank you. I guess life’s pretty hard right now. I’m a firm believer that relationship and love will come at the right time, and besides, I am not settled, yet. Also, you look good, too, Jean.”

Jean chortled and placed down the bone she was gnawing at. I looked in Kate’s direction, and I wondered what thought was on her mind when our eyes met. She looked beautiful, as always, more so now that she’s wearing a printed dress with her coat on.

Then I glanced at Stan’s face. I noticed he was inexplicably succinct with the answers he’d given to the women we were with when questions were thrown at him. They asked him things. Where he worked, if he drinks a lot, and why he was still single.

Jane had the penchant to know why Stan and I were both single. He just shrugged and smiled, gave them a few details I could not remember, as all I could take heed of was how good he looked tonight.

From then, I understood he was not particular with them, and I did what I could to make the situation as less awkward as possible, trying to elongate my replies and ask a few back. I was never great at holding conversations, and I was glad that Kate and Jean are both jovial and seemed to be wrapped around in their conversations. They left Stan and me behind as we weren’t able to contribute to their conversation about fashion anymore.

With that, I picked up the beer and looked at Stan. He was, surprisingly, looking at me. “Do you like the food?” I asked him and then took a swig of the beverage, trying not to prolong the urge to stare at him.

“I like it,” Stan replied, wiping his hand with a napkin. He reached for another slice of pizza and asked, “do you like it?”

“I love it,” I smiled. “The food is great.”

“Check your phone.” He stated, holding his phone as his mouth ripped through the slice of pizza he was holding.

“Oh, okay?” I fished my phone out of my pocket, encountering a hard time of having it pulled due to how tight the jeans felt with the way I was seated.

I checked on the screen and saw that he sent me a message, making my stare shift up to him, then to Kate and Jean, who were still busy chatting. Thoughtless, I unlocked my phone.

Lucas Stanley: ‘Why did you bring people over? I thought it was just the two of us?’

David Earl: ‘I swear I didn’t. I just came across them, it was just a coincidence.’

I tapped the reply, uttering the words in my mind with conviction when I sent it to him. I have watched his gaze move down to the phone, and I eagerly turned my attention back to the screen of mine as he typed a reply.

Lucas Stanley: ‘Lies.’

My eyes immediately shifted up from my phone back to him. He was acting as if he was focused on waiting for something coming from me, neck arched down, a smirk curled on his mouth.

David Earl: ‘Why would I lie? Do I look like I’m lying?’

With how near I was to him, I heard the chuckle he held in his throat. The animation of typing continued showing on my screen.

Lucas Stanley: ‘Yes, kinda. LOL. I don’t know what I would say to them.’

David Earl: ‘I’m sorry, I know you’re feeling uncomfortable.’

Lucas Stanley: ‘A bit. She kept on looking at you, your friend. You’re blind if you hadn’t noticed.’

I thought of a reply. I could’ve quipped anything funny, something that may pique his attention. Maybe something that would make him... jealous? Was he even jealous? I knew that was crazy; it was not as if he liked me, right?

And, s**t, I didn’t want to do it to him. Yes, it was not like he liked me, and besides, what was this? I didn’t even know what I liked about him. I knew he was sexy and good-looking, and our bodies felt amazing as we tangled in the sheets. Yeah... f*****g hell, those were what I liked.

But seriously, I didn’t even know what he would think about it. I didn’t want to make any implications. So I decided not to further the chat and instead looked back at him, seeing that he was still holding the bottle of beer, the other gripping on his phone as he intently listened to the conversation in front of us.

I sighed. “Hey, I hope you’re-“

Before I got the chance to say my words to Stan, Kate and Jean stood up, excusing themselves to the washroom, making me nod in approval. As they walked away, I felt a warm hand on top of my thigh, that the feeling immediately made me turn my head to face Stan’s direction.

“You look so good tonight,” he said, holding his drink with the other hand. “No wonder Kate couldn’t stop herself from ogling over you.”

I cleared my throat, bringing the beer bottle up to my lips. His hand was still on my leg, and I had nothing else to do but let him do what he pleased. The confined space was making it hard for me to maneuver my body.

“She’s a friend, that’s all,” I answered. “She’s a sweet person, I don’t want to give any further thoughts about it.”

“Really. Then why did she blush when you praised her?” he crooned.

His hand on my lap made it hard to answer. With the tip of the bottle still pressed on my lips, I stared at him, his eyes not meeting mine, but his hand on a continuous pattern of descent and ascend against the fabric of my jeans. I gripped the bottle and placed it down on the table.

“I think this is the reason you made me sit here” I concluded. “Stan... not here,” I warned, barely able to arch my neck as my head was almost already pressed against the wall behind my body.

His hand was roaming down the table, roaming on my leg, the action obscured from the noisy place filled with people.

“Yes, that’s why,” he drawled. “Where then, the place is packed. Would you rather someplace else? A different table?”

I called on Jesus when the hand traveled from my inseam, up to my crotch. He smoothed on the fly of my pants, and I bit the insides of my cheeks when he cupped my sac. I took another swig of beer, trying to do what I could to stop the heat from forming on the base of my c**k.

“Right, I guess you meant here,” he accentuated the ‘here’ as his hand found the erection I had on top of my leg. “What better way to get a man’s attention.”

“People would see us,” I exhaled my words out. “Jesus, Stanley.” I was not comfortable, but I was f*****g enjoying what he was doing.

The rush of knowing that people were around us and that they might see us were adding up to the thrill. I was apprehensive, but the emotion paled with the hunger that was being created by the searing touch of the man beside me. It felt so wrong, but it felt so good, enough to make it feel right.

I didn’t want his hand that was caressing my twitching d**k to halt, but I needed to, not because I disliked the attention he was giving me, but because it might drive me insane. He was driving me so insane. I was not hungry for food, nor in need of the beer to quench the dryness in my throat, but for him. I was hungry, thirsty for what he could satiate in me.

“Are you into these kinds of play? God, how I missed touching and seeing this thick c**k of yours."

I snaked my hand down the table, grabbing on his, making him stop. I looked him in the eyes and said, “just not now, please. This is too much, you’re driving me insane.”

He sighed and hastily pulled away from my grip. “Fine,” he looked back at me, “I’m sorry.”

I just nodded. Not knowing what to say, I moved my hand up on the table. My attention was solely focused on easing up the throbbing in my jeans, rather than saying that what he did was fine, and I liked it. I realized by then that Davion was right when he called me a kinky bastard.

“I... felt excited with what you did,” I admitted.

“I know,” he chuckled and took a slice of pizza. “So, how’s your day so far?” he took a mouthful of pizza he was holding.

“Huh?” The sudden change in topic baffled the s**t out of me, that it took me a couple of seconds to process his query in my brain. “I, Uhm, my day is good, I guess?”

“I see. I like your shirt, it looked great on you.”

“This was a gift from my mom, I rarely wear this, really,” I answered, feeling my nerves settling down.

The beautiful existence that was him really had a lot in store. I barely knew him, and I doubted if I’d truly get to know someone as confident and provocative as him without my rapt attention. I’ve only seen kinks like what he pulled off in porn movies, only have read them on fiction, not knowing the feeling of a rush as what the characters portrayed.

But now that it materialized into the situation he’d put me in, him, groping me in a place where the tendency of being caught was likely to occur, it bared another kind of thrill that I have never felt before, never experienced before with anyone.

I want this f*****g man. And as I stared at him as he ate his pizza, I realized how my attention only focused on him since last week, and that terrified me. I was scared of what I’d become in just a short amount of time. He f****d me real good that I became like this, and that was scaring the s**t out of me.

I knew I needed a break. With my d**k finally calming down, I asked him to stand up so I could move. Stan smiled and stood up, allowing me enough space to exit.

“I’ll be at the back, just need a smoke,” I slid out of the suffocating, overwhelming wall of brick and s*x on both my sides. I left my jacket on top of the seat and grabbed a napkin, not looking at Stan as I wiped my hand and walked to the back, headed through the parking lot.

The air felt humid, the kind that doesn’t soothe but makes one’s skin sticky to the touch. Not seeing anyone on the parking spot, I leaned my back on the sedan, fished the pack of Marlboro Blue, and lit one for myself.

This was the right time to contemplate. I was full, I had a little buzz in me, and the minty smoke gliding through my lungs was all enough to make me think clearly. These were all the things enough to clear my mind, ease my pallet, and bring me back to square zero.

Piece by piece, I pictured what I should expect. Should I even expect in the first place? As I took a drag from the lit stick I was holding, I wondered what’s in it for me? What would I get from this? And Stanley? What’s in it for him? Was he expecting something from me?

Honestly, should the expectation be a part of this... crazy infatuation?

Still encompassed in the haze of questions I have established and yet to answer, I thought of Stan. Someone so potent, sexy, and beautiful like Stan, a man I barely knew, had twisted me into something I have never thought I would become. I turned into someone who I wasn’t. With the slightest touch, the smallest notion, he could get all of my attention, making me act like a raging teenager with no control of himself. He turned me into a mess, and that frustrated me.

He felt like a powerful gust of wind that shook me, and I wondered why I was still around this man even though I knew his force would compel me, even destroy me. I knew deep down that I liked him. And I was scared of him, of that thought. I feared the possibilities.

The bubble I was in was popped when he appeared forefront of my eyes, his stare immediately meeting mine as he walked forward, that dangerously gorgeous smile, once again on his lips.

“I never expected that you’re a smoker,” he regarded, leaning against the car I was against at. “Can I have one?”

“Only when I’m nervous,” I handed him the pack and the lighter, not telling him the same words he told me.

We stayed silent. I was glad we were. The night was about to end, and I didn’t know what I should expect after this. I took a drag, soothing myself, and as I did, I looked up at him. He was looking back at me, those magnetic brown eyes scanning my face.

“Want to go someplace else?” he took a long drag, blowing the smoke upwards. “Just the two of us this time.”

I raised my gaze, watching his hair flail as the sultry summer breeze hit his face. He really could be spontaneous when he wanted to. Again, he requested something so abruptly that it felt like an answer should be given on a whim.

“Where? They’re still inside, we can’t leave them,” I answered, my eyes squinted as to avoid the smoke of the cigarette pressed between my lips.

“All you have to answer is a yes or a no,” he replied and took a drag on his stick. “No?” he raised an eyebrow, blowing the smoke up.

The puff traveled upwards, whirling in its ascend, turning into nothing, vanishing. I dragged a long one from the half-burned stick that I always have relied on whenever the feeling of unsteadiness and stress occupied my mind. And, mostly, whenever uncertainty took over my rationale.

I huffed the smoke out, relishing the minty taste of tobacco in my tongue. “What made you say no?” I questioned.

“Just a hunch,” Stan flicked the cigarette. “Hmm?”

“Then, you guessed the wrong choice,” I smirked, turned my head back to the entrance of the pub, and took one last drag before I flipped the butt forward, exhaling the vapor out of my lungs.

“Then, that’s the right choice,” with amusement laced in his tone, he fished the car keys out of his pocket. He pressed the remote, making the black vehicle just opposite of the one we were leaning against, lit up to life.

“Hop in and wait for me, and this time, please don’t leave without a warning,” Stan dropped the cigarette butt, stepped on it, then walked his way back to the pub.

As he disappeared into view, a sigh came out of me. I walked to his car, and like what he told me to, got in the front seat. A couple of minutes had passed, and as they did, I thought of what I was to expect from this. I tried to figure out what I should picture this time. Was this where he’d drive me back to his place? Was I going to pay him again?

Was this going to be another night of unabashed s*x? I was not sure; I did not ask, nor did he mention it, but the likelihood of it was thrumming in the air. It was an idea that was not worth mentioning, as it may arrive inevitably, knowing the nature of how we met. If that was it, then I knew I could handle it. My body could carry on with it.

My heart was ready. I knew I was ready, this was nothing, it would be nothing.

“You’re going to love every second of it,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t get attached, David. Don’t even think about it.”

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I have seen his frame from a distance, carrying a rack of beer bottles and the jeans jacket that I left inside, the denim planted on his nose. He walked in long strides, looking as if he was inhaling the scent of my clothing. I tried to act as comfortable as I could as the thought of s*x permeated through my brain.

“Wow, you’re here,” Stan slid into the driver’s seat. He handed me the jacket with a smirk.

I took it, folded it in two, and placed it on top of my lap. “Yeah, what did you tell them?”

“Said you were not feeling well and I’ll bring you home.”

“God, how about the bill for the food?” I frowned a bit, remembering that we have not yet asked for the tab before we headed here on the parking spot to smoke.

“Settled, don’t worry about it.”

I did not worry about it, nor said another word when he revved up the engine. I looked out of the window as the car departed the pub’s deserted parking lot, into the thinning streets of the city’s Tuesday night.

As silence loomed over the small space shared by the two of us, I contained the emotions I was feeling.

I held in the inexplicable feeling of wanting, of needing. The queer feeling of nervousness, the sense of sadness, that my heart could not properly fathom why I also felt.

All I knew was that he was driving, and I allowed him to bring me wherever damned place he wanted to.