Dark Side of the Moon.

I lolled my head to one side and let my dark curls flow loosely over my shoulder. I half listened to the conversation that I was in the middle of. Patrick and Adam, my two very sapphic friends are heatedly discussing a French film that they recently drug me to. I didn't get their love of foreign films. I didn't see the point in reading the translations on a screen while you can read a book about the same thing. They always say that seeing a film that is in a different language makes them feel more sophisticated.

“Grace, please tell Adam that not all movies need to be about finding love in order to be good,” Patrick said before taking a small sip of his mixed alcoholic beverage.

“Grace, please tell Patrick that you don’t need explosions and zombies to be interesting.”

“Adam, Patrick,” I mimic them with a high, girly voice, “Grace isn't even tipsy yet and it’s her twenty-first. She doesn't want to talk about stupid movies. She wants to talk like a fool because she is white girl wasted.”

“Well Grace, because you insisted that we go out at five thirty when all the party goers are just waking up, we have to wait at bars like these,” Adam waves his finely manicured hands around, “until the real parties begin.”

I fold my arms over my chest and let out a loud huff, but let Patrick and Adam continue their stupid banter. As I was picking at the invisible lint from my dress, the bartender came over and sat a shot in front of me.

“Oh she didn't order this,” Patrick started to say.

“Yeah, compliments to that guy over there,” He pointed to the guy sitting across the bar from us.

I looked up to see him smiling bashfully. I grin broadly; this is just what I've been looking for. We play the staring contest for a moment before he breaks the contact by looking down, running his fingers through his mess of hair.

Patrick and Adam look at me. “Oh no. No, no, no. Grace you are not going over there. He looks like a good boy, you’ll ruin him forever. Don’t you dare play this game Missy, I thought you were done with all of this fooling around,” Adam tries to knock some sense into me, but it not working.

I hop off the bar stool and strut over to him, leaving my disapproving friends in my dust. As I get close to this unknown male, I take him his features. He is very tall and I can see the outlines of his muscles through his dirty shirt. He must have been working outside because he is dirty and sweaty, and for some reason that is hot. It’s not until I get right up to him can I fully identify the sandy color of his hair and how his tanned skin makes his ocean eyes pop.

“I’m Wesley Doyle, but my friends call me Doyle,” the tall, tanned man says extending a hand as I take a seat on this bar stool next to him.

“Well thankfully I am not a friend,” I say in almost a bitchy tone, without taking his hand.

Wesley bows his head and lets out a small chuckle as he scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry, I don’t normally talk to women at bars.”

“Or anywhere else in general,” I smart.

“Okay, okay. Rewind a little bit. Hi, I’m Wesley Doyle. What is your name?” He extends his hand again. This time I take it.

“I’m Grace.”

“Last name Grace?”

“No, just Grace. For now.”

“Okay then, Just Grace. Why are you hear?”

“I can’t enjoy a couple cold ones with my friends?”

Wesley smiles. “Not dressed like that, in a dive bar like this.”

“It’s my twenty first and I wanted to spend the whole day drinking. This is just the first stop on the hot mess express.”

Wesley smiles again. His teeth are so amazingly straight and white. His parents must have spent a fortune on them. “Well, Just Grace, what does a guy like me need to do to get a ticket aboard?”

“Well, Mr. Wesley Doyle, buy me a few more drinks and that train might just wind up at your place.”

“What about your friends?” He asks.

I look over to where I used to be. Patrick and Adam are watching like they are looking at a bad car crash. They couldn't peel their eyes away. I smiled devilishly. They knew what I had planned for the night and neither one of them approved. I didn't care; they weren't my parents even though they both act like it at times.

“They’ll get over it. Let’s get out of here now,” I smile and take Wesley’s hand as we exit the bar together.

*

I take no time to find Wesley’s lips with mine once we enter his apartment. I could tell he was taken aback with my forwardness, but I was eager and needy, and I don’t need all of the romantic gestures and foreplay. I like straight forward, no strings attached sex. Meaningless, nothing heavy and messy.

“I feel like I should at least know your last name first,” Wesley murmurs against my neck as he leaves hot little kisses on my flesh.

“Tanner. Grace Tanner. Where’s the bedroom?” I feel his lips form a small smile.

Quickly he picks me up and walks in long strides down a hallway and into his bedroom. Once we’re in his room he sets my feet back down on the floor and turns me around to undo my zipper. Wesley places small kisses on my neck and back as he pushes the black material off my shoulders, letting it fall onto the floor around me. Again I am being turned back around and picked back up; walking a few more steps Wesley deposits me onto the bed. He smiles a lazy, seductive smile before removing his shirt and throws it, so it joins my dress. I sit up to kiss down his abs and undo his belt, popping the button of his pants, working down the zipper and finally pushing his jeans and boxers down.

Wesley pushes down into the mattress and stretches over me to his nightstand where he extracts a condom. He then helps me rid of my panties and kneels in between my legs. I hear the rip of foil and in one quick movement Wesley is inside me, filling me, making me groan loudly as the same time. I arch my back and grind my hips against his, making the feeling so much more. Wesley bends, putting most of his weight on his elbows that are on either side of my head. He rests his forehead softly against mine as we start to move together at lightning speed in unison. I could feel the familiar pull build inside my tummy each time Wesley rammed into me. I couldn't take much more as Wesley starts moving even faster. All too soon, I was bursting at the seams and seeing stars. Vaguely I feel Wesley stilling, we’re breathing heavy and sticky with sweat. He pulls out of me and rolls over to his back pulling me against his chest. Normally I didn't do the cuddling and sleep over part, but I was spent and didn't have the energy to get up, or even a ride home. I closed my eyes and let sleep rescue me once again.