Womanizer

"This is my jam!" Megan exclaimed, reaching over to crank up the volume of the stereo.

A simple bass line and some blues-style guitar work met Brian's ears. He glanced at Megan, a smile involuntarily spreading across his lips. Her hair was in a careless topknot and she was wearing a black spaghetti-strapped top with a pair of dark red sweats that had "Alabama" in white letters across her ass. She had obviously opted for comfort over style for the long ride to Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

"While browsing through a pawn shop, I saw this old guitar/It's strings were bent and rusted, it's body scratched and scarred/Holy Moses, would you believe that guitar began to talk?/I swear it did," Megan sang, bobbing her head to the music. "Now it's not like you're thinkin'/I wasn't stoned or drinkin'/When I heard that talking guitar say/'My daddy was a Gibson, my momma was a Fender/That's why they call me mindbender/Mindbender, that's my name'/You'd better believe it/It was a mindbending thing!"

As some truly skillful guitar floated from the speakers, Brian frowned. "Who is this?"

Megan grinned. "Stillwater."

"Who?"

"They're an obscure band from the '70s. Don't feel bad. No one knew who they were then, either."

"How'd you stumble across them?"

"My dad. He liked a bunch of random shit that no one else listened to, like this band and Bloodrock."

"Bloodrock?"

"We'll get to them later. Now shut up." She upped the volume a little more and continued singing:

"I said 'now listen guitar, whatcha tryin' to do?/People will think I'm crazy if they see me talkin' to you'/He said 'What's that you say?'/I said 'You'd better hold your tongue'/Now it's not like you're thinkin'/I wasn't stoned or drinkin'/I swear I heard that guitar say/'My daddy was a Gibson, my momma was a Fender/That's why they call me mindbender/Mindbender, that's my name, my name'/You'd better believe it, brother/It was a mindbending thing!"

Brian watched her for another moment before turning his attention back to the road. He was a little surprised--and relieved--that she was so relaxed. He had been worried that after their "date" had ended the way it had, things might be awkward between them. But so far, Megan was behaving exactly as she always had.

Brian reached for his pack of cigarettes. He had been thinking constantly about the conversation he'd had with Zacky yesterday, and had almost convinced himself that Zacky was wrong. Megan wasn't falling for him and he definitely wasn't falling for her. They were just playing a game, trying for some excitement in their day to day lives. If there was sex thrown into the deal, then the deal was that much better for both of them.

It's not complicated, Brian said to himself for about the hundredth time. We're having a good time. No one is going to get hurt. I don't know WHY Zack has to take such a pessimistic view on everything.

"Bri!" Megan poked his arm. "Hey! Would you come back for a few minutes so I can educate you on some epically awesome music?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Jeez, Bri. I'm not used to you being all deep and pensive. Are you sick?"

"Ha ha," he muttered sarcastically, pulling a cigarette out of the pack and sticking it between his lips.

"That's a disgusting habit," Megan remarked conversationally as Brian lit the cigarette and cracked his window.

"I could indulge in worse things," Brian shot back.

"Fair enough. Oh! This...Everyone should know this!"

Heavy rock with a lot of bass and drums. Brian waited, knowing Megan would sing along, and she didn't disappoint.

"The surface is so cold and worthless/All the things that I have still come from there/So paint the windows in front of my face/When you know damn well there's no one behind them!/I wish your body was not so warm to me/I wish your body was not so warm to me/I wish your body was not so warm to me/Just so you know.

"And all it was was something beautiful/When tides and dreams don't seem so tall at all/And all it was was something beautiful/When tides and dreams don't seem so tall at all.

"It's me against the world/Still I'm losing ground/And I'd kill to taste what it must be like/'Cause it's every one of my empty parts/That you fill now/I wish your body was not so warm to me/I wish your body was not so warm to me/I wish your body was not so warm to me/Just so you know.

"Yeah! And maybe it's all for the better now/Yeah! Well, maybe things sort of make sense!/Yeah! And maybe it's all for the better now/Yeah! Well, maybe things sort of make sense!"

"And this is?" Brian asked.

"American Head Charge."

"I've heard of them. Didn't Joey from Slipknot play some shows with them a while back?"

Megan nodded. "Yep. Ages ago."

Brian flicked ashes out the window. "Nice. I dig it. What's my next level of education?"

"Alan Parsons' Project. Tales of Mystery and Imagination. The album that should have been huge, yet was lost in obscurity."

**********

Megan had played it cool all day. She had laughed easily and chatted casually and managed to not give Brian a single clue as to her real feelings.

The truth was that she was pretty sure she had an ulcer. Her stomach had been in knots all day. Every time Brian spoke, her heart flung itself against her ribcage as if trying to escape her chest. Every time he looked at her, she was transported to the dark interior of this very car, parked in Zacky and Janine's driveway, with his mouth doing the most wonderful things to hers. It was enough to drive anyone crazy. Upon their arrival in Baton Rouge, Megan didn't know if she could handle another second with him--unless that second involved him touching her.

They stopped for dinner before going to the hotel. While Brian was checking in, Megan called Janine to let her know they'd made it safely. She thought she might throw up when Brian beckoned to her. They were about to be alone in a hotel room. All the previous occasions didn't mean shit now. Tonight, a promise hung between them. A promise that was to be fulfilled by the end of the weekend.

"Are you alright, Megan?" Brian questioned in the elevator. "You're being awfully quiet all of the sudden."

"I'm just tired," she lied. She didn't want to be the one to bring up Tuesday night and Brian's parting words.

"Winner takes all."

Just recalling that sentence was enough to send a quiver of arousal through her entire body. The bet was null and void, though. Nobody was going to lose this time. So, what was the point in waiting? Why shouldn't they go ahead and do what they both knew they were going to do?

Brian led the way to their room, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let Megan enter first. Her heart seemed to pause at the soft click of the door shutting. She and Brian were alone. The rest of the evening stretched in front of them. Megan couldn't fake it for much longer. How could she go on acting like everything was the same? She wanted Brian to do something. A repeat of Tuesday night, at the very least.

Brian dropped his bag on the bed nearer to the window. Megan set hers on the remaining bed, unzipping it and dragging out the tank-top and shorts she slept in. "I'm taking a shower," she announced.

"Okay." Brian turned on the television and flopped onto his bed.

Megan practically ran to the bathroom. She stood under the hot spray, her mind racing as fast as her pulse. Brian had gotten to her. She had been warned about him and he had still wormed his way beneath her skin. It had happened without her even realizing it. He had been so smooth, so subtly seductive, and now she couldn't break free. She didn't want to break free.

This wasn't a crush. It wasn't love. It wasn't anything deep or emotional. It was lust. Pure and simple. She desired him. Period.

"Fuck," she swore, switching off the shower. "I am about to do something stupid."

She secured one of the hotel's thick white towels around her body and padded out of the bathroom. Brian was on his bed, squinting at the television through the smoke curling up from his cigarette.

His eyes flicked to Megan and back to the screen, then he did a double-take. She was visited by a brief urge to hide. What am I doing? she demanded of herself.

But Brian had moved. He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray on the bedside table and stood. Megan's mouth went dry. She struggled to swallow.

Brian walked towards her, stopping a couple of feet away. "I've told you what seeing you in a towel does to me, Megan."

"Maybe that's the point."

Brian's eyes darkened. The faintest trace of a smirk curved one corner of his mouth. "You're not playing fair. The game isn't until tomorrow."

"The game is over, Bri. We both know how this ends."

"But the anticipation is so much fun."

"Yeah, well, you win. I can't handle it anymore."

"Sure you can. With some help." He approached her and took her by the hand, guiding her to the bed.

Megan was scarcely breathing. Brian sat down again, tugging her down next to him. He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. One of his hands was resting against the side of her neck. He placed his free hand on her leg, just above the knee. Megan felt a surge of heat that seemed to originate with that particular touch.

"Bri..." she whispered.

"Shh." His breath was warm on her cheek. "Just go with it. I promise I won't take it too far."

Megan licked her lips nervously. What was "too far," by Brian's definition? And did she really want him not to take it too far? Didn't she want it all, everything he had to give?

He covered her mouth with his, firmly this time, and she responded. Her thoughts left her. She no longer cared how far this went, as long as it went somewhere.

Deepening the kiss, Brian added a slip of tongue. He simultaneously began to trace his fingertips lightly along her leg. The effect was instantaneous; Megan inhaled sharply, a flash of need sparking through her like a lightning strike.

Megan's lips parted with her inhale and Brian plunged his tongue deep. She was mostly concentrating on his fingers making their way to her inner thigh, but her attention was divided by their tongues fighting for dominance.

Brian dropped the hand at her neck to her breast, squeezing gently through the fabric of the towel. Megan broke the kiss. "Cheater," she managed breathlessly.

"Distraction techniques aren't cheating," he said, his other hand finally creeping to the bottom of the towel.

Megan started to lose the towel completely; however, Brian protested. "Don't. I won't have any restraint if you're naked on my bed."

"So?"

"So trust me." He sealed his mouth over hers again, still kneading her breast.

Megan grabbed a handful of his shirt and used that hold to bring him down with her as she stretched out on her back. Brian positioned himself at an angle to keep from placing all of his weight on top of her.

Never pausing in the onslaught of her mouth, Brian slipped his hand under the towel. Megan trembled. The need that had flared moments ago was now a steady burn, a fire that Brian was stoking to greater extremes.

Brian's mouth left hers. He began to work on her neck, his teeth grazing her skin and making her writhe. This action, combined with his fingers trailing tauntingly nearer and nearer to the apex of her thighs, had her whimpering pleadingly. She was wet and aching for contact. If he didn't alleviate that ache soon, she would go insane.

"Tell me what you want, Megan," he said, lifting his head and meeting her eyes. His fingers were no longer touching her, but she could sense them mere millimeters from the place she needed them to be.

"Touch me. Please, Brian. Oh God. Just...touch me."

"Like this?" Ever so lightly, the tips of his fingers brushed her.

She gasped. "Yes!"

"Or maybe more like this?" He pressed his thumb against her clit.

She arched slightly and moaned. "Please, no more teasing. Do it."

A circular motion with his thumb had her squirming, attempting to force a repeat of the simple action. Chuckling, Brian kissed her. She was still clinging to his shirt with one hand; she sent her other hand into his hair.

He was making lazy circles with his thumb and the pressure was building gradually. Then, without warning, he slid two fingers into her. There wasn't much resistance from her body, so wet and ready was she.

A noise that was a mixture of surprise and pleasure escaped her, muffled by his kisses. She reacted by shoving her mouth even harder against his.

"Damn," he mumbled. He loosened the towel and allowed it to fall away from her body. She shivered as the cooler air hit her still-damp skin.

Brian didn't hesitate. He had one breast in his hand and was using his mouth on the other. Between her legs, his thumb massaged her clit while his fingers pumped in and out of her relentlessly with the skill and dexterity that attributed to his success at guitar.

Megan cried out. Her hand fisted in his hair. She could feel her muscles tightening, her arousal cresting like a wave that was going to carry her away.

"Brian...God..." Her words left her in a pant. It didn't matter if she made sense. Nothing mattered, except for Brian's fingers hitting that spot inside of her that drove the pleasure to an even higher pitch. One more time. If he would just do that one more time.

The rough wetness of Brian's tongue skated over her nipple just as he caressed her g-spot again. Megan's back bowed, her breath leaving her in a wordless exclamation. The pleasure was almost pain and Megan bathed in it, her eyes closed. She never wanted it to end.

It was several seconds before the pleasure began to fade. Megan stretched languidly and opened her eyes. She looked at Brian, mildly dazed.

He smiled. "That should prevent the anticipation from killing you."

"What about you?"

"I can wait. Delayed gratification is something I'm very familiar with."

Megan sat up, quickly wrapping the towel back around her. Brian was watching her and she blushed.

"Get dressed," he ordered.

Megan got to her feet a bit unsteadily. She was at the bathroom door when Brian called her name. She glanced back curiously.

"It gets better," he said, the gleam in his eyes a promise that he wasn't exaggerating.

The beginnings of renewed lust stirred in her. She hurried into the bathroom, shut the door, and slumped against it. Brian was going to kill her.