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Meadowlarks 3 : Endless Page 2
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The big city started to choke the life out of me. I couldn’t handle it anymore, so after college I busted out of there and travelled up and down the country. I considered laying down roots in Las Vegas, but the dry heat would have eventually killed me. I’m used to the cold. When I met Bob Stanton at a casino in Nevada, he convinced me to check out a convention in Wyoming. While it didn’t have the best appeal…I mean, it’s Wyoming…I shrugged and agreed to go with my new friend.
Damn, was I wrong...The landscape was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Not to mention, the people were just nicer than most New Yorkers. We pulled up to the convention center, I took a few deep breaths and got out of Bob’s truck.
Cue Elsa Lawrence.
She stood with a group of other woman near a landscaper’s booth, holding her hand over her heart while she laughed at something one of the other women had said. She sounded beautiful, and she looked even hotter. There was something about the way she cocked her head to the side, letting her blonde hair fall over her shoulder that put me in a trance.
I stood there, watching her, until Bob snapped his fingers in my face to break me out of it.
“Casey. Hello? What are you gawking at?”
“That.” I pointed to Elsa.
“Oh, ha ha…figures. And you’re just her type too. Fresh from the cradle.” Bob snorts.
I give him a questioning look and straighten my tie before confidently walking over to the woman who sucked all the air from my lungs. She saw me coming, and I think I actually saw her breath hitch.
“Excuse me, ladies,” she said quietly, before turning away from them and walking away from me.
I followed her. Prowled. Pursued. Already hardening.
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes quickly met mine, and she blushed. I kept my distance, but didn’t slow my pace. I followed her into the washroom and pushed her right up against the wall. I put my hands on either side of her head, and leaned in close.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, breathy and panting.
“Whatever I want. Do you have any objections?” I leaned my face down to her ear and brushed it with my lips.
“None.”
I turned her around, lifted her dress, and slowly ran my fingers along the hem of her underwear. She turned her head and rested her chin on her shoulder, watching me intently. I pulled the silk to the side, unzipped my pants, pulled on a condom (like a Boy Scout, I’m always prepared), and slowly pushed into her.
If I thought I lost my breath from the first sight of her, I was wrong. I completely lost everything, including my mind in that instant. I fell hard and fast for Elsa Lawrence. She had me in a tailspin, and after a month I proposed to her.
We lived in Cheyenne for four years, then moved to Sheridan for the last four. I was faithful in Cheyenne. Then, once I turned twenty-six, Elsa started to change. Her fortieth birthday came and went, and I saw less and less of her. There was always come excuse why she wasn’t home for dinner, or why she wasn’t in the mood to make love.
Even though we worked together at Pine Ridge, I rarely saw her. One night after work, I celebrated a big deal that had just been finalized, thinking she would join me. She didn’t. Instead I found solace in the bed of someone else, and that’s when Weston Casey turned from dutiful husband, to adulterer.
Our relationship started and ended in the shitter. I should have seen it coming.
Wanting to forget about it for good, I turn on my side and snuggle into the woman beside me. I wrap my leg and arm around her warm body and pull her in close. Her hair still smells like the coffee shop. She stirs when I press against her.
“Wake up, baby,” I whisper in her ear.
It’s just after midnight, and I can’t sleep. So, to be selfish I’m going to wake her up and fuck her silly again.
“Mmm,” she moans. “Again?”
“Yes,” I growl. “Lift your leg.”
***
I bent to kiss the brunette on the cheek before she left at five-thirty for her six AM shift. She groaned playfully that she was going to be tired all day at work, and damn if she didn’t slightly walk bow-legged down the hallway. I stood and watched her for a minute, smiled at my latest conquest, and then closed the door and fell back into bed. I slept right through Sunday.
Bob Stanton called early on Monday morning.
“Weston? How are ya buddy?”
I groan. “Fantastic. You?”
“You sound like shit.”
I chuckle. “I feel worse. Are we still meeting at eleven?” I look over at the clock, realizing that if I’m going to shower, dress, and make it to Buffalo by then, I need to get out of bed now.
“Yes. Everything is good to go, your offer was accepted. They want a fast transfer and you’re the only one willing to pay the whole amount with cash.”
“Perfect. See you at eleven.”
We say our goodbyes, and hang up. I lazily get out of bed and wander into the bathroom to take a shower. The water feels amazing and for what seems forever, I stand under the spray and let myself get immersed in the heat. My body turning a little pink from the temperature.
I dress in a charcoal Calvin Klein suit, and style my hair in the mirror. Grabbing my shoulder bag, I glance around the room quickly to see if I’ve forgotten anything. Nope. I open the door to leave, and almost walk right into Sara.
“Sara? What are you going here?” I ask, extremely annoyed. I push past her, slamming the door shut behind me.
“Why haven’t you replied to me? I don’t know why you shut me out!” She trails clumsily behind me, trying to hold my hand.
I push the button the elevator, and turn to face her. She looks tired, thinner, and completely distraught. I did that to her, and I feel awful about it. I didn’t intend to have her fall for me, but I’m not surprised she did.
“Sara,” I lean in, and push the hair off her forehead. “We’re over, I’m sorry. We weren’t supposed to happen, but we did…and I never intended it to go on for so long.”
“That hurts…you fucking used me.”
“I think we used each other.”
Sara shakes her head and starts to laugh softly. “You’re making a mistake.”
“Wouldn’t be my first. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I try to brush her off when the elevator doors open and I step inside. “Take care, Sara.”
She doesn’t say anything else, she just stands and watches me while the doors close.
I peek out of the doors when I reach the lobby, half expecting to see her down here waiting for me, but she’s not. I walk out, find my car and drive to Buffalo to meet Bob.
***
As soon as I get the green light on my newly acquired building, I call my developer and have him come over to take a look at the property.
“Pete, what do you think?” I ask when he gets out of his truck and walks up the steps on to the porch.
“Pretty nice, Casey. I think the homey look will appeal to potential clients.” Pete shakes my hand.
“That’s what I was thinking too,” I say, opening the front door and motioning for him to walk in ahead of me. Bob is already inside waiting in the empty kitchen.
“Pete! How are ya? It’s been too long,” Bob greets Pete.
“Good seeing ya, Bob. You sure found Casey a good one. I don’t think it’ll take much to turn it into an office.” Pete looks around, then opens the blueprints of the house on the breakfast bar in the center of the room. “Do you want a complete gut?”
I shake my head. “I’d like to keep the upstairs the way it is…for storage and such,” I lie. I might keep files up there in the future, but I really just love the idea of having a bed around. Maybe Riley will succumb to me…someday.
“I can have a crew in here tomorrow,” Pete says, confidently.
“Perfect. I’d like five offices, two of them adjoining…for an assistant.” I smirk at the idea of having her so close to me again.
We shake hands and after Pete leaves, B
ob and I go to a local restaurant for lunch.
“Are you going to talk about it now?” Bob asks while chewing on a piece of garlic bread.
“It’s over. Nothing to talk about.” I try to brush it off.
“Well, I think it’s nothing but uphill for you from here on out. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when you open.”
“I can’t either.” I grin, and tip back my bottle of beer.
“You’re really going to New York though? How often will you be back?”
“I need to get away, Bob. I do love Wyoming, but I need a little filthy city air for a while.” I laugh. “Remember Riley Harrison? The agent working at Pine Ridge?”
“With black hair? Legs for days?”
I nod and inhale. “That’s the one. She’ll be running it for me while I’m gone. I trust her completely.”
“Doesn’t she still work for Elsa?”
“For now.”
Bob smirks. “Storage and such, huh?”
“More like…a bed with handcuffs,” I chuckle quietly. “Fuck, maybe it’s a bad idea.”
“Put aside how hot she is for a moment. I know you, and you don’t trust very many people. If you trust her, she’s obviously the right person for the job.”
He’s right.
When Bob excuses himself to use the washroom, I take the moment of privacy to text Riley.
Me: Hi, beautiful.
Riley: Weston…
I grin and lick my bottom lip.
Me: Got the property. Ready to resign?
Riley: When will I start?
Me: Three weeks. I’m going to NY
but I’ll be back next week.
Riley: If you screw me over, you’ll regret it, Casey.
I close my eyes and think of her comment in a different light.
Me: Don’t miss me too much.
Riley: See you next week, perv.
Me: Sure will, ma’am…
She doesn’t send any words back, just an eye-rolling emoticon. I run my thumb over her name on my screen, and quickly click my phone off when Bob sits back down at the table.
“I got this,” I say, taking the bill when the waiter places it on the table. “Thanks for everything, Bob. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Good luck in the big city, Weston.”
CHAPTER THREE
I peered out of the window on the plane while we made our descent into LaGuardia. It took a little longer than usual to collect my bags, but once I got outside of the terminal I was able to climb right into an awaiting cab.
“Leonard and West Broadway, please,” I say to the driver once he’s pulled away from the curb. I’m going to be staying in a friend’s condo while he’s out of the country. As much as my parents would love for me to stay with them in Chelsea, I’d rather not. I could stay with Liam too, but I just want to be alone.
After a few glasses of wine, a nice pinot courtesy of Mark, the condo owner, I swipe through emails on my cell. A few from Bob, one from my sister…I click to open the email from Josh, my best friend in school and the CEO of a top New York agency.
September 4th, 2014
7:49 PM
From: Joshua Montedesco
To: Weston Casey
Subject: FINALLY!
Let me know when you’re here. We need drinks and women.
Doesn’t matter the order. Call me.
Joshua Montedesco
Montedesco Properties, NY
I call him, but he doesn’t answer. “Josh. Where the fuck are you? I’m in Tribeca, and you’re not answering your damn phone. I started drinking already, so where are the women?”
Half a glass of wine later, Josh calls me back. “Hey, asshole. How was the flight?”
“Not bad. What’s the plan tonight?”
Josh chuckles into the phone and I hear him speak to someone else. “Just a sec, damn…Sorry, Weston. Yeah, tonight. I’ll pick you up for dinner in an hour? Sound good?”
I was already starving, and ransacked Mark’s fridge earlier, but I could eat again. “I’ll text the address.”
Thirty minutes later I’m showered, and dressed. Charcoal suit with a faint blue shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and no tie.
Josh texted when his car arrived outside, and I made my way down the building and out into the warm night air. He pushes the car door open from the inside and slides over on the leather seat. “I’m disappointed you’re not wearing cowboy boots.”
“Shut up,” I growl when I climb in and close the door behind me.
Josh laughs then nods his head to the driver who was waiting intently with his eyes on the rear view. “I cancelled all my appointments for tomorrow, so I hope you’re prepared to get completely obliterated tonight.”
“Fuck, yes.”
***
Dinner was the typical Manhattan swank. Suits and cellphones. We ate a light dinner, then headed toward the East Village. Five minutes into the drive, the car pulls over and idles at the curb. I glance over at Josh who is on his phone.
“I’m here,” he says gruffly to whoever is on the other end.
Thirty seconds later Josh nods his head toward my door and grins. I look out, and there are two women standing there. I open the door and step out. One, a total knockout with skin the color of warm honey, with long dark hair and piercing blue eyes. The other, a blonde with very obvious silicones and the best ass I’ve seen in a while.
“Ladies...” I stand out of their way so they can climb into the car. The mixture of their sweet perfume permeates in the September night air, and my heart instantly starts to race. I’m so ready for this.
“Chella, Kristen…this is Weston. New Yorker turned cowboy. We need to show him what he’s missed all these years.” Josh elbows me and I grin at the women sitting across from us.
“You don’t look like any cowboy I’ve ever seen,” the blonde says in a sultry voice while twirling her hair between her fingers.
“Josh likes to exaggerate. I’m sure you’ll find that you later in bed, but…” I laugh when Josh punches me in the arm. “I live in Wyoming. But I’m no cowboy.”
I could tell them the last thing I’ve ridden was the brunette from the coffee shop, but it might be in poor taste this early in the night. I’ll get a few drinks into them first.
The East Village has changed since I last remember it. Then again, it was at least a decade ago, and I wasn’t even legal drinking age at the time. I get out of the car and extend my hand, the dark haired knockout, Chella, grips me and climbs out. She pulls her long hair over her shoulder, revealing her bare back, and I have to clench my jaw to refrain from grabbing her and pulling her back into the car.
The music thumps and Josh directs us into the building. Bypassing a line of people waiting to get in. Chella keeps her fingers laced through mine, and when we stand by the bar waiting to order drinks she stand right in front of me and presses her behind right into me.
I look over at Josh, mouth the word “fuck”, and shift my eyes down Chella’s body. He grins and winks.
“What are you drinking, beautiful?” I lean in and ask what she would like. My knuckles slowly tracing down her spine.
“Patrón,” Chella says, leaning her face back to me.
Oh, baby is a tequila drinker.
This was already looking good, now it’s almost a grand slam.
We drank…and drank. And danced, and drank some more.
Eventually our age caught up with us, and Josh and I stood and watched the girls dance.
“How do you know them?” I loudly ask over the music.
“Interns,” Josh says back, not taking his eyes off the girls.
“No shit…” I grinned, thinking that I’m really going to like working in New York.
***
Tequila was a bad idea.
Chella drank so much she threw up all over the inside of Josh’s car, and all over my shoes. Kristen naturally insisted on nursing her friend back to health and we dropped the pair of them off at the
ir apartment.
We drove all the way back to Tribeca with all of the windows rolled down. Josh was passed out most of the way, and I faded in an out a few times myself.
“Sir? We’ve arrived.” The driver stands with my door open and tries to discreetly cover his mouth from the stench.
“Thanks,” I say, swallowing hard. I look over at a sleeping Josh and decide not to wake him up. I tossed my shoes in the garbage before heading upstairs.
Once I’m showered—scrubbed—and in bed, I fall into an alcohol-infused fantasy starring the most beautiful girl in Wyoming. Riley.
We’re lying in the grass in the meadow just beyond Pine Realty. I used to sit in my chair and zone out looking through the trees, thinking of just being free. Probably my subconscious telling me that I’ll probably always be alone. Even in marriage I was unrestricted.
Riley sprawls out; dew from the grass kisses her skin, and she’s wearing nothing but skimpy underwear and one of my dress shirts. Her long black hair is curled in long, flowing waves, and is fanned out around her head. She looks at me so lovingly, I almost can’t take it.
I climb on top of her, placing my hands on either side of her head. She gazes up at me, running her fingers up my arms and then down my chest. I lean down to kiss her soft lips, and she pulls me down on top of her body.
Riley sucks on my neck, my jaw, licks across my stubble and places biting nips on my throat. I strain against my jeans and whisper to her just how badly I want her. We roll, and she’s on top of me. Sitting straight up, she slowly runs her hands up her body, up her neck and runs her fingers through her silken hair.
Her fingers run back down her chest, then she slowly unbuttons the shirt she’s wearing. Underneath is nothing but pure and perfect bare skin. I lean up and she pulls my head to her chest.