tagRomanceWhen a Door Closes Ch. 01

When a Door Closes Ch. 01

byquietseductress©

Author's Note: All characters in this story are over the age of 18 and are fictional Any similarities to people in real-life are purely coincidental. This is my first submission, and feedback would be appreciated. Enjoy!

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How pathetic do I look right now, Alexis thought. She had to laugh at herself -- if she didn't, she thought she might cry. It was such a cliché, after all -- perfect relationship, perfect boyfriend, perfect future... that was, until she walked in on the "perfect boyfriend" on top of a stunning blonde, thrusting into her like his life depended on it and in the throes of passion she didn't even know he had. She had stared stupidly for a few long moments, long enough for him to finish cumming deep inside the other woman and long enough for her to feel her heart crack right in two. The worst part, she thought, was that after the fact, there were no explanations, no remorse, no guilt -- no anything it seemed like. They had a discussion in which he told her he no longer felt the same about her, and that he wanted to move on in their lives.

Alexis had moved on, she supposed, if only to the bar a few blocks away from her apartment. Her main goal for the evening was just to try and think things through, take a metaphorical deep breath, and maybe even get a little tipsy -- she figured she was entitled. She glanced down at her Long Island iced tea and took a deep sip, only to glance up sharply as she heard the sound of a glass being smashed. To her right, an attractive couple were arguing -- the woman was a petite redhead (obviously angry as she had smashed the glass in the first place), and he was tall with thick black hair and an exasperated look on his face. After a few minutes of heated debate, the redhead stormed out. Alexis thought with a smile that if the bar door could have been slammed, the redhead would have done it hard and on purpose. She turned her head back quickly, realizing she was staring, and looked at the man through her long lashes.

As he took his seat again on the barstool a few down from hers, his whole body radiated weariness. She saw the man talking with the bartender, then handing over some money, which she assumed was to pay for the glass. Her eyes widened when she saw it the denomination on the bill -- way more than any glass could ever cost. It all made more sense when the bartender lined up several shots on the bar, and the man took them one right after another, to be chased by what looked like whiskey on the rocks. "He is going to be flat on his face drunk if he keeps going like that," she thought, and then considering the situation, figured that maybe that was what the handsome stranger wanted in the first place.

After another hour or so of nursing her drink, Alexis looked at her watch, realizing it was already 11:30, and she had work the next morning. Life moved on, she thought ruefully, whether or you wanted it to or not. As she stood, she couldn't help but look again at the dark stranger to her right -- it seemed she hadn't been able to stop looking at him throughout the night. As she glanced over she caught his gaze, and caught her breath. His eyes were the most breathtaking hazel color, even if they were completely fogged with drunkenness at the moment. He smiled at her -- a beautiful display of dentistry if there ever was one, she thought -- only seconds before he started listing forward and heading straight for the floor.

She moved quickly, only reacting, and managed to get a hand on his solid shoulder before she found herself almost going down with him. Fortunately, she braced her back leg and managed to catch his dead weight before pushing him back up on the stool, making sure to have a firm grip on both his shoulders to keep him there. She smiled at him, unable not to as she looked at his happy, dopey expression that was purely the result of the alcohol. He gave her another smile and started to lean forward, lips almost comically pursed as though he were going to kiss her. She laughed and easily deflected his not-so-suave move, then, pulling his chin up with her finger said, "You haven't even bought me a drink yet. What's your name, champ?"

Eyes still shiny, he looked up at her and slurred, "Whaa --? Oh... my name's Scott."

"Well, Scott, it looks as though you need to go home, my friend. Where are your keys?" At the vacant expression she got back, she sighed, and turned to bartender to find out if he had left them earlier. She only rolled her chocolate brown eyes when the bartender told her the temperamental redhead had taken them with her earlier. After a last check of her wallet to make sure she couldn't pay for a cab for him, she sighed again. Turning to him, she put on a smile for his benefit. "All right Scott, you still remember your address, right? Whiskey didn't knock it out of there?"

"Ummm, no, my address is.. is, umm.. 267 Mockingbird Street. And I don't even know your name yet." Alexis looked at him, and for a moment, there was a sharpness in his hazel eyes as he looked at her. She blushed, thinking it must have been a trick of the light. After all, her ex-boyfriend apparently hadn't found short, curvy brown-eyed brunettes all that attractive -- why should Scott, who was by far better looking than her ex?

"It's Alexis."

"Nice to meet you, Alexis." Again with the slurring, she thought. Definitely a trick of the light.

"Nice to meet you too Scott. What do you say we get you home so you can sleep off that hangover?"

"Ok." As docilely as a child, he followed her to her car, and after getting his tall frame into her tiny sedan, she moved to the other side and started towards his address. She glanced over during the short ride, amused to see that he was drooling a little in his sleeping state, and felt an almost overwhelming urge to run her fingers through the little wave of black hair that rested on his forehead. "What are you thinking?" She forced herself to concentrate on the road and to ignore the vulnerable man in her passenger seat.

A few short minutes later, she pulled up to a charming, renovated Victorian house. Parking in the driveway and letting the car idle, she moved to the other side of the car, opened the door, and nudged Scott by pressing a soft hand to his face. His eyes opened, and she couldn't help it -- her breath caught again. Those eyes, even drunk, were so beautiful. Then, before she could do anything else, he leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers. Soft was the first thing she thought -- his lips were so soft. They were rubbing slowly back and forth over hers, and she couldn't for the life of her think of a reason he should stop.

She felt his hand come up around the back of her neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue slipped between her lips, slowly stroking back and forth with hers, moving in an erotic dance in and out of her mouth that made her think of being horizontal instead. She moaned softly, her fingers threading through that thick black hair as she'd thought of doing only minutes before, and pulling his head closer, tilted her head to taste more of him. Whiskey, she could taste the whiskey... but there was something that made the taste him. His fingers were caressing her arms, holding her to him, while his mouth moved with and into hers.

It was only when his hands started to slide from her shoulders to her sides, and his fingers softly brushing the sides of her breasts that she opened her eyes, and immediately pushed back in horror, almost hitting her head on the car in the process. "What am I doing?" she asked herself in horror. "I'm ready to jump a perfect stranger who probably won't even remember this in the morning!" What stopped her, though, was the look in Scott's eyes. They were still fuzzy, but filled with lust. She glanced down and realized the reason why -- in bending to wake up him up, the camisole under her shirt had slid down alarmingly low, giving him a generous view of the full, braless breasts contained inside. She blushed a fiery red, feeling it spread over her chest and neck, which to her chagrin made him smile like the cat that ate the canary.

"Scott," she murmured, "I... don't know what I can say to that. Come on, you need to get inside." Leading him up the wraparound front porch, and strangely comforted by holding his hand to get him there upright, she found the front door open, and let him inside. When it became obvious he wasn't going to make the stairs on his own, she took his hand again (it was so warm, she thought), and let him up to a well-decorated yet still masculine bedroom. Seeing his bed, he sat down hard on the mattress and then lay down on his back, still holding her hand. With a devilish smile, he tugged on her hand, almost succeeding in toppling her balance and her landing on top of him. She tugged back though, her eyes moving over the long, tall form as she said with a smile, "Next time". She bit her tongue after she said that, knowing it would never be the case.

Still, he looked at her again, and again that moment of intense sharpness came through his hazel eyes as he stared at her deep brown ones. He paused as if trying to think of his words before saying sleepily, "Alexis... there will be a next time." And with those final words, his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep. She looked at him again, and tugging a blanket over him, murmured, "If only it worked that way." Giving into her urge this time, she ran her fingers through the thick black hair, reliving their delicious kiss only a short time before. Then with quiet steps, she locked the door behind her and let herself out.

It was only after she made the drive home and gotten herself settled into bed that she even let the thought cross her mind that maybe, even without the alcohol, Scott might find her attractive. The thought was dismissed just as quickly with a soft sigh as Alexis turned over and went to sleep.

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