I Just Want You

Dinner done, I grab another beer and head to the couch to watch the game, but my mind drifts. Suddenly autumn-colored hair and sky blue eyes are all I see. With my focus on the club, I’ve had . . . a dry spell. Self-imposed, of course, but my body feels it. I try to block out the image of those tight black pants and focus on the game.

Fifteen minutes later I find myself staring blankly at the screen as I imagine what it would feel like to have that ass in my hands. Needing some relief, I slip my hand under the waistband of my sweats and palm my cock. I’ve gotten used to taking matters into my own hands since I made the decision to make the club my focus. No distractions.

But this . . . this is different.

I ache.

For her.

I slide my sweats down my hips and waste no time fisting my cock in quick, even strokes. Closing my eyes, the first thing I see is her. Berklee with her auburn hair flowing down her back in soft curls and that ass. In those pants.

I grow harder.

Pump faster.

I let myself get lost in the fantasy of her. My cock nestled between those tight cheeks, my hands in her hair. Grunting, I squeeze tighter as my release spills onto my stomach.

My phone rings and I jump. Surveying my current situation, I decide to let it go to voice mail. Standing from the couch, my sweats slide to my ankles and I kick them off. Picking them up, I wipe off my stomach and head to the shower, stopping on the way to throw my sweats and a few other items into the washer.

After a quick shower, I slide into another pair of sweats and resume my spot on the couch. I look at my beer that sits untouched and undoubtedly warm on the coffee table. Grabbing it, I take it to the kitchen and pour it down the sink, then grab another. My phone dings, reminding me I missed a call.

Grabbing it from the table, I see it was Zane. Swiping the screen, my phone dials him automatically.

“What’s going on?” he says in greeting.

Thoughts of my little jack-off session along with the image of Berklee filter through my mind. “Just having a beer, watching last night’s game.” It’s not a complete lie. “What you got going on tonight?”

“Nada. Barry called and wanted to know if I wanted to get a beer, thought I’d see if you wanted to go. You’ve been nothing but the club these last few months.”

“Nah, I’m thinking it’s a night-in kind of night.”

“All right, man. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Later,” I say, ending the call. Taking a big swig of my beer, I attempt to leave thoughts of the sexy Berklee alone and focus on the game once more.

Kicking back on the couch, I can feel exhaustion setting in. Closing my eyes, I fall asleep to visions of her.

A loud thud and pain in my side wake me up. Opening my eyes, I blink to focus and realize I’m on the floor of my living room. Reaching under me, I pull out the remote that is jammed into my side. I must have rolled over and fallen off the couch.

Stretching up to the table, I grab my phone and check the time. Two minutes until six. Time to get the day started. Pulling my tired ass off the floor, I pad to the kitchen to make coffee. Just as I’m about to hit Start on the coffee maker, I change my mind. With my sudden obsession with Coffee House, and the lovely Berklee, I’ve been consuming way more caffeine than what I need. I forgo drinking any here with plans to stop and pick up my usual. I’m asking for trouble and I know it, but that doesn’t stop me.

I rush through getting ready and am out the door in forty minutes.

Parking outside the shop, I peek through the windows and see she’s working today. I’ve been lucky that she’s always here when I need my caffeine fix.

Climbing out of the truck, I casually make my way inside. Berklee looks up at the sound of the door and gives me a warm smile.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” I say. It’s lame as hell, but this girl . . . last night . . . yeah, I’m not exactly on top of my game this morning. I think I should probably feel bad or embarrassed that I stroked my cock to images of her, but I can’t find it in me to care. She’s gorgeous, and all guys have stock in their spank banks, right?

She laughs. “Well, you’ve only got two more weeks of run-ins, and then you never have to see me again,” she jokes.

I feel a tightness in my chest. “New job?” I manage to find my words.

“Yep.” She grins. “It’s been a long time coming. I’m excited to finally be using my degree.”

She’s happy, and that makes me happy for her, but sad for me. Shit! I don’t even really know this girl. I’ve seen her a handful of times, talked to her just as many. My self-imposed dry spell is affecting more than just my orgasms.

“Congratulations,” I say halfheartedly.

“Thanks.” Her face lights up. “Your usual?”

“Yeah, thanks,” I mumble. She turns to pour my coffee and I give myself a mental kick in the ass. It’s not like I planned on asking her out. She’s just a girl in the Coffee Shop who happens to be sexy as hell and gorgeous. Nothing to lose sleep over.

“Here you go.” She hands me the cup and I quickly reach for it, letting our fingers graze. Her skin is so damn soft, same as before, but this time there’s a current that races through me. It has to be a result of last night’s extracurricular activities.

“Thank you,” I say, handing her a five-dollar bill, and turn to leave. I need to get my head on straight.

“Bye,” she calls out. I don’t turn around, just wave and walk straight out the door. It’s a dick move, but that’s the reason I do it—my dick. I need to subtract him from the equation.

I climb back in the truck and drive around the block, parking in front of the club. ‘Club Titan’ is now written in large letters hanging above the door. This is what I’ve sacrificed myself for all these months. This is what my focus should be on. I need to get this club up and running. Everything else needs to fade into the background until that happens.

As I reach for the door handle, my phone alerts me to a text.



Zane: Have a meeting with a temp agency today. Hoping they will be able to help with the rest of the staff.



Me: What about the new Administrator?



Zane: She’ll help too, but we’ll need time to bring her up to speed on your vision.



Zane: BTW, she’ll be there today at four.



Me: Got it.



I shove my phone into my pocket, grab my laptop bag and head inside. Ridge and his staff are wrapping things up.

“Hey, man.” Ridge holds his hand out and I shake it. “We just finished all the items on the punch list. I thought you and I could do another walk-through while the guys finish cleaning up.”

“Sounds good.” I follow him through the club and nod as he points out items on the list that have been fixed.

“That wraps it up,” he says, handing me a copy of the list with all the items checked off.

“Thanks,” I say. “Looks like you get an early day.”

“Yeah.” He grins. “I plan to use it wisely. My wife and kids are home today.”

“All good, Ridge,” one of the guys says. I think his name is Tyler.

“Great. We’re going to head out. Call me if something comes up.”