0 comments/ 7712 views/ 2 favorites The Connection By: Fantasealor It wasn't a wise idea to go see Joe, my ex-boyfriend, who lived two hours away and in another country. I knew he lived with another woman, but he told me through various phone calls and e-mails that he was not happy with her. I felt that same warm, comfortable feeling when we talked on the phone. I hadn't seen him in three years and I just wanted to know if we still that connection. Our break-up had more to do with my friends and family than the relationship with Joe itself. "He's no good" and "he is just using you" are what I heard from them. But when we were together, he was attentive, loving, passionate and would do anything for me. He was a bit possessive, which I thought was cute. He became jealous easily, but I thought that was healthy for our relationship. I was his woman and he let the world know it. I felt safe when I was with him, like no one would hurt me. When we spoke on the phone following our physical break-up, (it was hard to cut the cord emotionally), he would always ask who I was dating, then get upset if I told him I was seeing someone, yet he dated, slept around and eventually moved in with another woman, all the while professing his true and undying love for me. And I fell for all the lines, for the words he used, the way he said them, how he practically purred on the telephone during intimate moments of mutual satisfaction. All I knew is that I wanted and needed to see this man again—to see if our connection was still as strong as it used to be. We made arrangements two days beforehand and Joe called his boss, Evan, who owned a construction company, and we had a three-way phone conversation. Evan was able to give me directions to the job site as well as his cell phone number in case I got lost. None of my family or friends knew I was taking the trip across the border. Had they known, I would not have been able to justify my decision, so I kept it to myself. It was the thrill of the adventure, the excitement and anticipation of seeing Joe again that kept me driving for two hours. Heading into the city, I punched in Evan's cell number and was greeted by a breathy sigh and a big 'hello' from a man I sensed was grinning from ear to ear. "Evan, hi it's Jade," I told him. I could almost feel him smile. "Hi Jade, are you in the city yet?" "Just on the outskirts, and I'm looking for the exit you gave me." "It shouldn't be much more than 10 minutes from where you are," he told me. After a few quick directions, we disconnected and I found myself maneuvering through three-lane then four-lane traffic like an Indy 500 driver. Heading off the main through-way, I came to a stop light, spotting a Harley Davidson dealership in front of me. It seemed like as good of a place as any to try Evan again on the cell, since I seemed to have gotten lost. "You're not far from me now," he said. "Head straight, go to the church...it's on your left, turn there." "Can you see me yet?" I asked, someone hysterical. "I see you, you're driving a red car...I'm standing in the middle of the road waving at you." I smiled and drove cautiously around the children playing in the street. My cell seemed to grow a life in my ear when Evan started to laugh. I could see the smile play across his lips as he waved at me. "Hi there," I said. "Nice shirt." He wore a lime green tee-shirt that was almost as bright as his smile. We were still connected by cell, but there was something else going on here. My stomach dropped to my knees, my heart thudded in my chest. I didn't know if it was the excitement of actually being in the city in one piece, seeing Joe, or staring down a brown-eyed, dark-haired, beautiful man in a florescent shirt and well-worn Levi's. "I guess I can hang up now," I said, as I drove up beside Evan. We disconnected at the same time, but our eyes never wavered from each other. When I stepped out of the car, the oppressive heat wilted me. Evan watched me walk toward him, hand extended in a warm welcome. I couldn't stop smiling. It seemed like his jaw dropped when he got a look at me from head to toe. My 5'10 frame holds more pounds than I'm comfortable with. I'm no perfect size 10...or 12 for that matter. I had on a pair of jeans, thong sandals and a short-sleeved blue blouse that clung to my curves. My short, wavy dark hair was gelled in all directions...it's the new look, my stylist had convinced me, and it suits you. At the moment, I didn't feel like I needed the gel! "Hey, thanks for directing me here safely," I said, grasping his hand in a warm gesture that seemed to last a little too long. I felt the currents of electricity running from his fingers to mine. Our eyes locked, as did our smiles. "It was my pleasure," he said. "Boy, Joe told me you weren't all that, but you were his..I have to tell you, you ARE all that...and then some." We were still holding hands. My breath caught in my chest. It was the heat of the day, I was sure of it. It couldn't be the heat of this man's words. I was sure he was talking about someone else. No one would be saying such sweet words to me. In the excitement of meeting Evan, I hadn't seen Joe yet. I looked around the job site and saw many young men in various stages of undress due to the almost 100 degree temperature. I saw movement at the top of a ladder which was propped against the building on which the crew was working, then I saw Joe. He was at the peak of the house, standing precariously on the ladder that was being held by a large, tattooed guy wearing only a pair of jeans and a bandanna. Nice eye candy, I thought, as I stood and watched, and waited. Joe finally spotted me. He smiled, and gestured a "hello", kissed the tips of his fingers and pressed them to his chest. I acknowledged him with a subtle nod as I stood alongside the boss and surveyed the crew. I could see Evan taking in the exchange, but he didn't say a word. Joe didn't stop work just because I was in town. I was somewhat disappointed in the greeting. I was expecting to be swept off my feet in a bear-hug of an embrace, kissed senseless and whisked away to a quite spot where we would make love for hours. The disappointment thumped my chest and, crest-fallen, I planted a smile on my face. My sunglasses hid the tears that swam in my eyes. I was here now, I thought. I might as well make the most of it. I wasn't about to turn around and drive two hours to get back home. I nosed around the job site for a bit, watching the men bustle and grunt in the heat, and listened to them curse and swear for about a half hour before Joe actually came over to say hello. "Hey you," he said. "You're still beautiful." He, on the other hand, looked rough and tired. He had grown a full beard which was now white with the age of a hard-edged 45-year-old. His piercing, blue eyes looked right through me. The bandanna he wore under his ball cap was drenched with sweat, as was his tank top that clung to his lean, muscled and tanned body. "Hey yourself," I said and leaned in for a kiss. It was a light, quick peck on the lips and then he was back to work. Evan walked up to me as Joe climbed the ladder. I was finding it hard to breathe again. Had to have been the heat. "Want to go for a drink?" he asked me. "Who you talking to?" "You...pretty lady...do you want a beer?" Blush. I could feel it start from my kneecaps. "Um, yes, I'd love one actually." "Cool. Hey, Joe, I'm taking your girl to the bar down the street. I can do that because I'm the boss." He laughed, then ushered me to the street with a hand on the small of my back. My skin was on fire where he touched me. When I looked at him, his brown eyes smoldered. My belly flipped, and my heart skidded and came to an abrupt halt. I gulped in a mouthful of hot air and swallowed. Yeah, that beer would go down my parched throat really well right now, I thought. I needed to get this fire in my body under control before I combusted. The bar was a welcome refuge to the scorching heat. A blast of air conditioning sent goose bumps shooting up my arms. We each straddled a bar stool and ordered a round of beers. Before I could fire up a cigarette, Evan reached for my lighter—which I held in my hand—and lit it for me. "Thank you," I said, inhaling deeply, sending a plume of smoke into the air. "My pleasure." "What should we drink to?" I asked him. "You make a toast." "How about..." I wanted to come up with something profound to mark this very surreal experience I was having with Joe's boss. "How about, to endings...and new beginnings." He smiled. "Perfect." We clinked our beers, held eye contact and sipped. "Do you play pool?" I asked Evan, a few beers later. "Love pool, you want a game?" "I wouldn't want to beat you," I said with a smirk. "Actually, to warn you, I haven't played in ages. But I'd like to make a small wager." "You're a hustler, aren't you?" He stood to walk me to the back room where the pool table sat forlornly, in the dimness of a lone light bulb that dangled from the ceiling. Three small Formica-topped tables sat empty, their chairs held together by duct tape chewing gum. We took a table farthest away from the bar, in the corner, un-noticeable to those who entered through the front door. The bar wasn't one noted for it's decor. "And the wager would be?" Evan tipped his beer to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine. Those damn butterflies in my belly were feeling more like bats. "How about a kiss," I said, somewhat boldly, but a little bit shy. He closed his eyes, smiled and sighed deeply. "I like that," he said. "So, you beat me, you kiss me. If I win...well, we'll see who does the kissing." We'll see who does the kissing? Jesus, where did that come from? I was being just a bit too bold. But my mouth was in over-drive. It was like I couldn't stop what was coming from my lips. "I don't think I can lose this bet," he said, still grinning. He racked the balls and allowed me to break. A good crack on the cue ball sent the balls into a colorful frenzy. Zipping around the well-worn felt, not one dropped. "Typical," I said. "Women's break...all bust no balls." He laughed. Oh God, what a laugh. It was magical. Like melting ice on my already frayed nerves. Evan eyed up the mess I'd left on the table, bent over (what an ass!) to cue up the high balls and started dropping them like sitting ducks. Talk about a hustler. He was dead-on and only missed after sinking all but two of his stripes. "Your turn," he said, glancing my way. He stepped back to the table to watch me. I felt his eyes on my butt, felt a little self conscience of that, but his appreciative humming got my juices flowing. The saliva pooled in my mouth and I couldn't concentrate on the game. It's do or die, I thought—that is, die being kissed. That made me want to lose just to feel his lips on mine, but my competitive nature wouldn't let it happen...at least not without a fight. The first one was a long shot, lots of green, but the one-ball scooted into the corner pocket without much fanfare. The next three were just getting my balls out of the way, each sinking with ease. A fourth bank-shot was a little tricker, but the seven ball glided into the side pocket. "Yeah, who's the hustler?" he asked, lighting a cigarette and letting a waft of smoke drift over his head. That's all he had to say. Just to hear his voice behind me made me fumble the next shot. We were tied, both having two left in play, plus that dreaded eight-ball finale. Evan was up once again, and taking aim, he wasn't about to let a girl beat him at pool. I knew he was enjoying the competition as much as I was as he dropped his final two shots with ease. Lining up the eight ball, he had a tough long bank and called it. However, after the eight ball dropped, the cue ball danced around the side pocket, dropping as if on a dare. "Damn," he said. "You win." He placed his cue on the table and turned to face me. I stood before him, cue in one hand, my other one on my hip. "You did that on purpose," I accused him. "Didn't you?" "Maybe, maybe not...who knows? Will you ever know? I don't think so. If I lose, you get to do the kissing...some come here you sexy thing and kiss me." Was he talking to me. I almost wanted to look over my shoulder to see who was behind me. Oh shit. Time to put up or shut up. His eyes danced with pleasure and a spark of heat flashed from the depth of those beautiful chocolate, mocha irises. Yummy. I licked my lips, slowly, the taste of my strawberry lip gloss losing its flavor with my nervousness. I swallowed, took a deep breath and one step forward. His arms dropped to his sides, hands turned upwards, summoning me. Thoughts of Joe ran through my heart and slammed to a halt at my brain. Live life, he's with someone, you're available, Evan is here, you are here, Joe is down the street, you are here, Evan is here...my life with Joe flashed before me in the few seconds I let it control my head. As quickly as Joe rushed in, he was gone and I was one step closer to Evan. I reached for his hands and he grasped mine, both this time, and at that moment I knew that what we had felt in our welcoming handshake—something that was coming at me twice as strong this time—had everything to do with our connection and nothing whatsoever to do with the weather. The air conditioning in the pool room was at its peak, and so were my nipples. He glanced at the silk blouse I wore, his eyes skimming toward those erect peaks, and I swear his too became taut under that crazy-colored lime t-shirt. "Kiss me Jade," he begged. "I want to feel those beautiful lips on mine." Oh God, I was coming undone. Here, in a biker bar, with a man who looked no more like a biker than I did. Here with a man, I had only just met hours before, who had turned my heart upside down with a glance, one who had jolted my nerves like live wires. My reaction to him was so strong and I couldn"t control myself when I went to him, when I squeezed his hands in mine and molded myself to his chest. His groan was all the incentive I needed and as excruciatingly aware as a ticking time bomb, I touched his lips with mine. Slowly at first, we melted into each others mouths, testing, tasting, teasing, torturing. With just our mouths, we explored each other in a way that experienced lovers have mastered over time. His hands came up to cradle my face. The roughness of this working man's fingertips were so gentle, so right. The pads of his thumbs stroked my cheeks and turned my head for easier access. He pulled away before deepening the kiss. His eyes were glazed, his smile slight, his breathing deep. My reaction mirrored his. With my hands between us, flat against his chest, and the backs of them against my breasts, our hearts were thudding in unison. "Kiss me again, sweet Jade," he coaxed. This time, I couldn't hold back. This time, I needed to feel him from my fingertips to my toes. I wanted him inside me, beside me, around me, near me, in my heart, my mind, in my soul. My hands went to shoulders, to his hair, and I tossed his ball cap onto the pool table. Grasping his locks by the fistful I pulled him toward me, our mouths fused in a molten lava rush. His hands went around me, holding me close, rubbing the small of my back, my ass, back up to my shoulders, to my hair. Had we been horizontal, I would have been having an orgasm on the spot. I needed to feel his bare flesh under my skin. I wanted to taste him, his nipples, his belly, I needed to feel him inside me. I wanted his erection to pound into me until I was senseless and begging for more. He spread his legs, pulled me tighter against him and he sat on the edge of the pool table. Purposefully, I found my balance between his thighs and rubbed against him playfully, but painfully aware of what was happening between us. "Feel that," he said, taking my hand and placing it on the bulge in his jeans. Oh God, he was so damn hard! I murmured something incoherent and we kissed again, getting reckless on the pool table. "You're making me crazy," he groaned. "I have to have you. I want to feel you, I want to watch your eyes as I thrust into you. Do you want that?" "You don't know how much," I said, pressing my hand on his groin, kneading and massaging his package through the confines of his jeans. "If you keep doing that, you might find out right here on the pool table," he said. I pulled my hand away, and placed it on my breast, my breath catching in my throat, my face and neck were flushed with the promise of something so totally and sexually fulfilling, I was having trouble breathing. He tipped his head to touch mine, and as our foreheads rested against each other, our hands played with the buttons on my shirt, exposing the satin and lace of my bra. "This is a nice color on you," he said, tracing a finger along the shape of me. "I love purple." He dropped his hands even farther and unbuttoned my blouse all the way, exposing me and my purple bra for all his glory. He sighed heavily and crushed me in another embrace, his face the perfect height for his tongue to dance along my cleavage. His hands engulfed my breasts, taunting, while his tongue played with the valley between. His thumbs found their way to my erect nubs, which he made even harder with a few erotic pinches and strategically placed bites. With a swift tug, my breasts were exposed, spilling out of their confines and then quickly being sucked by that beautiful expert mouth. Those other patrons in the bar were but a thought away as his hot, swift, and teasingly torturous kisses and licks were stirring my senses. The blood was draining from my head and going directly to my pelvis. I could feel the dampness at my centre. I couldn't stop the flood that was coming any easier than a herd of wild buffalo. "I'm going to come," I whispered to him. "If you keep licking my tits like that, I'm going to explode right here." With that admission, there was no stopping him. He was a man on a mission, and that was to make me have an orgasm in this biker bar, where people had no idea what was going on in the pool room. "Oh God Evan, please...I'm going to come. Keep sucking my nipples like that," I said, head thrust back, I bit down on the scream that was threatening to escape my lips as an orgasm rocked my soul, sending me off the planet. Holding tightly to his shoulders, my fingers biting into him, I shook uncontrollably as he licked and sucked me through the shuddering of the first orgasm I'd ever had fully clothed and totally turned on. Nipples glistening with his mouth juices, Evan planted kisses across the flush on my breasts and tortured my nipples even more with the roughness of his goatee. God, what a turnon, to be able to come standing up like that. I wanted to and needed to please Evan even more now and I wanted to feel his hardness in my mouth. But in the pool hall? Would I dare to do it there? He smiled up at me and took my mouth once more in his, his tongue darting across my lips and down my neck to my shoulders exposed by my open blouse. My tits pressed up against his chest, and I struggled with his shirt. I wanted to feel his naked flesh on my skin. Pulling his shirt up, I felt his nipples brush against mine in another erotic jolt of electricity as we groped and fondled each other wantonly. Panting, I took his hand and placed it between my legs so he could feel what he did to me. Dampness, I could feel it through my jeans, my panties were soaking wet. And his hard-on was threatening to break free from the confines of his Levi's. "Evan, I want you, right here, right now." "Jade you so totally turn me on, I want you too." I dropped to to a squat in front of him, dragging my nails along his arms and his belly making a trail to his jeans. I slid a hand under the elastic waist band of his boxers and grasped his pulsing shaft with a soft hand. His eyes closed and he thrust his hips at my mouth. I eased his jeans over his hips just slightly, letting him escape to freedom. His cock was a throbbing and ached to be sucked. My pussy was having a reaction to that notion, coming alive again. I gave him a little rub, jerking him gently, gliding my hand up and down his shaft and he moaned softly. The Connection 'Ah,' Willow thought. 'It's good to be out of Sunnydale. Even if it is for a few days.' Willow had read about this amazing computer seminar and thought that it would be great to get away from everyone for a while. For some reason, the gang had been acting like a bunch of whiny brats lately and Willow could stand it any more. So she decided to leave Sunnydale for a few days and relax. Willow rented a car and on that Thursday, hugged everyone by and, after Buffy made sure that Willow had her supplies, she took off and headed for UCLA. Along the way, she tried to figure out things to do since the conference wasn't until Saturday. At one point, Willow stopped to get something to eat and pulled out her travelers guide for California and turned to the heading for Los Angeles. There were museums of all kinds, but Willow was enjoying this being outside stuff. 'Maybe there is life outside of the internet,' she thought with a smile. She searched the guide towards the middle of the LA section, figuring that that was were the bulk of the attractions would be. When she didn't find anything interesting there, she turned to the front of the LA section. She only read about two descriptions into the section when she came across something called Angel's Flight Railway. "Angel," Willow said out loud. She hadn't seen Angel for quite a while and figured it might be fun to see him again, now that he and Buffy were split and he might not be so brooding. 'Yeah, right. Angel not brood?' Willow finished her lunch and ran to the closest pay phone. "Giles? It's Willow. No, I'm fine. Really. I just needed some...no...Giles, I'm FINE. All I need is Angel's business address. No. No. I'm just...no. I only want to see him...he IS my friend, you know. Yes, I know what you think of Angel. Yes, I know that you worry about me. No. I'll make sure I take my stake and my holy water. I promise. Thanks Giles. See you soon!" Willow scribbled down the address on the stack of yellow post-it notes she carried. She got her map back out and figured out, roughly, where Angel lived. She wondered momentarily if he would be mad at her showing up unannounced, but figured if he was, she would leave and head for her hotel. Willow hopped back in the car and turned on the radio. She found something that sounded fairly pleasant, a sort of light rock kind of stuff, and heading back onto the highway. It only took here another hour or so to reach Los Angeles. 'City of Angels. Angel's city. That's pretty funny," she thought. 'I wonder if he's thought of that. Nah. He probably broods too much to think of jokes.' Willow found the address and pulled over next to the curb. She got out and looked up at the building. She set herself, smoothed out the wrinkles in her pants and made her way through the door. Inside, there was a board listing office number. 'Angel Investigations. Office 204. That would be the one.' Willow smiled at the thought of seeing Angel, and even Cordelia, again and headed upstairs. Willow knocked on the appropriate door and heard someone from inside say, "Come in." She pushed the door open to see a scruffy looking man sitting at the receptionist's desk. "Welcome to Angel Investigations. How can I help you?" Willow smiled uncertainly. "My name's Willow Rosenberg and I'm a friend of Angel's. Is he here?" "Angel? Ummm...Angel. Yeah. Uh, no. He's not in right now. Anything I can help you with?" 'My word,' Doyle thought to himself. 'So this is Willow. Angel never said she was beautiful.' Willow blushed slightly at this man's rather obvious lack of subtlety. Even naive little Willow could tell that he was looking at her and finding her attractive. "Um, do you know when he'll be back, Mr..." Doyle rubbed his hand on his pants and held it out to Willow. "Doyle. My name's Doyle. No mister. I'm Angel's right hand man." He gave her the most charming smile he could while fighting off another hangover. Willow smiled back, feeling the heat of the blood rushing further up her face. "Doyle. Yeah. Angel mentioned you the last time I saw him." Doyle's face contorted in fear. "Whatever he told you, it was a lie. Plain and simple. I didn't even know those guys were crooked." Doyle's face broke out in a sweat until he saw Willow struggling to hold back her laughter. "Well, okay. Maybe not everything he told you is a lie. At least he said I was handsome and charming, right?" Doyle said on that smile again and it sent shivers down Willow's spine. "Well, not in those words, no," Willow replied with a grin. "He said something about a deadbeat gambler..." She let her words trail off as Doyle's face twisted up in anger. "Why I'll kill him...well, not kill him since he's already dead. I mean...you know what I mean." "Yeah, I do. I wanted to kill him a bunch of times. Especially after he almost killed me." "Killed you? Why would he want to kill a beautiful, sweet...uh...lass like yourself?" Willow leaned toward Doyle in a conspiratorial fashion. "It was Angelus. Not Angel. I don't think Angel would ever hurt me." Doyle puffed his chest out with macho pride. "He better not. If he ever hurt one soft, lovely hair..." Doyle shook his head, trying to regain his composure. He mentally smacked himself. Usually he wasn't even this taken by Cordelia. "So...what brings you out this way?" Willow smiled shyly and looked down at the floor. "I'm attending a computer seminar at UCLA and thought I would stop by and see an old friend...and a new one, apparently." 'Friend?' Doyle thought. 'I'm already her friend!' Doyle suddenly realized that Willow was still standing in the doorway. "Please, Willow. Come in and have a seat. I can't bear to see you standing there for another minute." Doyle ran over and pulled up a chair for Willow. Willow sat down and sank into the chair. "Whoa!" she shouted as she nearly fell into the chair. Doyle thought she looked like a child in an adult's chair and tried not to laugh. "So, Doyle...what do you do here for Angel? I mean, you said you were his right hand man. I don't think that means you sit here drinking coffee and reading the paper all day." It was Doyle's turn to blush as Willow seemed to hit the nail on the head. "Well, no...I mean I have other duties aside from the coffee and the newspaper. I get to go out and risk myself in the daylight when Angel can't. And then I help Cordelia with the research and...stuff like that." Doyle trailed off when the smile got too wide for Willow to hide. Willow suddenly sobered. "Isn't it scary going out and helping Angel? I mean, you're not a vampire. I don't think." Doyle winked at Willow and whispered "I've got a secret and I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell Cordelia under any circumstances. Now...do you swear not to tell?" Willow frowned wondering what it was that Doyle was going to share. Did he carry a gun? Was he a wizard? She held up her fingers in a Girl Scout salute. "Scout's Honor." Doyle looked around the room and satisfied that it was empty but for the two of them, he asked, "Are you ready?" Willow nodded her head and let out a small gasp when Doyle shook his head and suddenly he was green and covered with spikes. He shook his head again and the spikes disappeared and his skin was pink again. "There," Doyle said with a grin. "How was that?" Willow sat motionless for a moment. She had never seen anything quite like that. She had seen vampires put on their game face, but this was totally different. She thought to herself that Doyle was much better looking as a human. 'Bad thoughts, Willow. Bad Willow.' Willow smiled and said, "That was neat." "Neat?" Doyle looked at Willow skeptically, but then noticed the light in her eyes and he realized she was serious. 'Such pretty eyes,' Doyle thought to himself. 'Stop it, man. What are ye doing? Ye hardly know this girl and here ye are fawning over her. I mean, yeah she's gorgeous and she's obviously smart. And her hair is fabulous. Running you hand through it...' Doyle mentally smacked himself as he realized what was happening and he realized that Willow was talking to him again. "...and vampires. I'm sure you've run into them. But, you know, since Angel's not here, I should probably be going. I wouldn't want to keep you from your work." Willow gave Doyle that small smile that he felt was going to break his heart. "No, lass. I'm sure that Angel will be back soon. Maybe you should stay. Hey! Are you hungry?" Doyle was praying like mad to the Powers That Be that she was. Anything to spend more time with her. Willow thought about it and smiled. "Yeah, I could eat," she replied, borrowing one of Oz's favorite lines. 'Is he asking me out on a date? No...That couldn't be. It's just lunch. Or dinner. That's all.' Willow sighed silently. "Wait. Didn't you say we should stay here?" A small, pathetic smile played over Doyle lips. 'Goddess, what nice lips he has. Bad Willow.'' Doyle thought frantically. "Well, now. Angel would kill me if I let one of his friends go hungry while she was waiting for him, now wouldn't he? Let me go get something out of Angel's office." With that, Doyle smiled like a schoolboy. He found the drawer where Angel kept a small stash of money. Doyle figured that Angel wouldn't mind if he spent some of it on Angel's lovely friend. 'God, man. There you go again.' Doyle returned to find Willow looking out the window. He stopped in the doorway and admired Willow's silhouette. 'God. She looks even better than Cordelia. Her hair is the sweetest shade of red. It looks almost fiery now, being highlighted by the sun. Get a hold of yourself, man. It's just lunch.' "Well," Doyle remarked. Willow turned, and Doyle's jaw almost hit the floor as she smiled at him again. "You ready? The boss is paying." He said this last with a smirk as he fanned out sixty dollars. Willow smiled at the attempt at levity. "Of course. Where are we going, big spender?" "Going?" Doyle looked at her blankly. He hadn't thought of that part. "Going. Yeah. Where are we going? Well, what are you in the mood for?" "I don't know, Doyle. Anything but fast food. I need to lose some weight." "Not from where I'm standing, lass. You look great to me." Doyle rolled his eyes at himself. He shook his head and chuckled as Willow laughed quietly. Not to mention the blushing stuff. Willow giggled as she took the arm that he proffered. She drew close to him when they got outside as quite a breeze had picked up. Doyle immediately straightened his back and squared his shoulders, making himself feel foolish, but enjoyed the sensation of having a beautiful woman on his arm. They decided on a small coffee bar, where they took a table away from everyone else. Willow ordered a bagel and some orange juice and Doyle got black coffee. "What? Nothing to eat? Come on. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day." "Well, lass," Doyle replied. "It's 1:30 in the afternoon so it's not breakfast and food tends to interfere with my digestion." Willow laughed and found that she had relaxed from the long drive and was enjoying herself more than she had with Oz recently. Well, not that recently was that recent. Oz had been spending a lot of time with his band and going on tours. That didn't leave much time for Willow. Willow frowned at this thought and looked at her half-eaten bagel, as though it held all the answers. After a couple more half-hearted jokes, Doyle realized that her dark mood might deepen if she didn't, somehow, manage to come to grips with...with whatever it was that was bothering her. So he used a centuries old technique that his mother taught him. He asked. "What is it, Willow? Something suddenly seems to have taken the fun out our lunch. Come on and open up. I promise Angel and Cordelia won't hear a word, if that's what you're worried about." "No, it's not that," Willow replied. "I've been having...well, no, you don't want to hear about this." Doyle smiled that small smile and Willow just had to smile back. It was like he was able to cheer her up with only a simple smile. "Come on now, lass. What do you think Angel would do to me if I let you leave here without me trying to help you, at least a little? He'd beat me too a pulp and then stuff me in an envelope and mail me to your place so that I could apologize." Willow envisioned Doyle all beat up, showing up in a package on her doorstep. She started laughing that high lilting laugh. She chuckled for a moment more and then stopped laughing, but at least she was still smiling. "I've been having guy problems," she said meekly. "What? Is he out of his mind? Wait. Are ye bein' stalked? Do I need to get involved?" Doyle was suddenly on the defensive, looking for someone who hurt Willow. He was breathing faster and he clenched and unclenched his hands. Willow smiled. "No, it's nothing like that. My boyfriend is in a band and he doesn't seem to have a lot of time for me right now. He's going on tours and rehearsing. He writes but it's beginning to become a form letter. 'Willow. Things are great here in San Francisco. The tour's going well. See you when I get home. Love, Oz.' I mean, he could at least take the time to put something special in the letter. You know, a flower, a guitar pick, someone's heart..." Willow trailed off to see if Doyle had gotten the joke. Doyle seemed to be off in his own little male world. Willow could almost see the pictures in Doyle's head of Doyle beating up Oz for not paying attention to her and the thought made her smile. Not that she would let Doyle get mixed up with Oz. Doyle suddenly shook his head. "Wait. Someone's heart?" "You know. I left my heart in San Francisco. Come on, Doyle. If you're going to be bored with the conversation, you could at least pretend my jokes were funny." "No no no, lass. I'm not bored. I was just thinking that this Oz must be out of his mind, not paying attention to a lovely creature such as yourself." Doyle mentally clapped his hand to his forehead. 'Way to go, Doyle. Keep it up and she might sick Angel on you. Here she is talking about her guy problems and you keep wanting to take her...never mind. Just keep focused. Bad thoughts, Doyle.' "You know," Willow said in a far away sounding voice. "You must be a hit with the women. You are kind of a smooth talker." Willow had a half smirk on her face. "Well, if you must know," Doyle began with a half grin of his own. "At the moment, the woman I am in love with does not deem me worthy of her love. She can be quite stuck up sometimes." Willow raised her fists. "Is she out of her mind? Do I need to go beat some sense into her?" She almost didn't get the last part out as she had started laughing. The look on Doyle's face was priceless. "Nay, lass. I think I can handle it on ma own." 'Good lord. Willow and Cordelia in a fight? Knocking each other down and pulling each other's hair? Rolling around and...and...bad thoughts, Doyle.' Willow tilted her head and looked at Doyle. His Irish accent seemed to get a little thicker when he was concerned about someone. It was quite...stimulating. 'Get a hold of yourself, Willow. It's not like he's the love of your life. He's a friend of Angel's. That's it.' "Hmmm. Someone being stuck up and not being able to figure out when someone loves her. That sounds familiar." "Really? And who does that remind you of?" Doyle was glad to be off the subject of his love life. He was, in the recesses of his brain, trying to figure out a way past Cordelia's defenses. He didn't want to talk about her. "Cordelia Chase. She was one of the most stuck up, snotty, spoiled, rich brats I have ever met." Willow's face turned slightly red from anger this time, not embarrassment. "Cordelia? You mean the Cordelia that works here?" "Yeah. I can't see how you stand working with her. She just has her head in her own little world and she doesn't care about anyone else but herself." "Well, now I wouldn't say that's entirely true," Doyle replied. Willow was definitely getting a little viscous. "I mean, she cares about Angel. She given him hugs and tried to cheer him up a whole mess of times." "That's only because Angel has saved her life several times. She probably feels like she owes him something." "So...," Doyle started, trying to change the subject. "This computer conference you're going to. What's it about?" "Oh, the usual stuff. E-commerce, web sites, networking. Things like that." Doyle nodded, even though he was almost completely computer illiterate. "Yeah. I think that they will be big in the near future." Willow looked at Doyle with her forehead creased in astonishment. Doyle thought it made her look lovelier. "What, lass? Why are ye looking at me like that?" Willow felt a shudder run through her body as Doyle's accent got thicker again. She relaxed and laughed. "You don't know much about computers, do you?" "Well, not really. Cordelia handles most of that kind of thing. I mostly...uh..." "You mostly hang out and be Angel's right hand man, right?" Willow laughed again as Doyle gave her a weak smile. "So," Doyle tried again to change the subject. "What do you do in, is it Sunnydale?" "Well, there's Buffy, she's the Slayer. I'm her right hand girl and her best friend. I'm also a senior in high school." "Only a senior? I figured you were in college. I mean, I figured you were working your way through college as a, I don't know, a model or something." Doyle felt the hot blood rising in his cheeks and decided that if she wanted to smack him, he let her because he deserved it after that. Willow gave Doyle her shyest smile and looked down at her plate, which no longer contained any of her bagel but crumbs. She seemed to be embarrassed by his comment, but she didn't seem angry, which made Doyle sigh with relief. "You think I could be a model?" Willow asked so quietly that Doyle had to strain to hear. "Aye. That I do, lass. Someone as pretty as you? The modeling agencies would be out of their bleeding minds not to snatch you up." Doyle gave her a big smile that melted Willow's heart with its sincerity. Willow shook her head. "No. I'm just the little mousy one. Buffy is the one that all the guys drool over. She should be the model. I would just carry the lens caps to her photo shoot. But then I could set up her web site, you know something like slayer.com, and put her pictures up..." Doyle shook his head and chuckled quietly as Willow had once again managed to turn the subject from herself to Buffy and managed to get herself going again with the computer stuff. Doyle wondered if there was any way to get Willow to talk about herself for more than ten seconds, not including the ramblings and the computer jargon. Technobabble is what some of the people he'd seen on TV calling it. Doyle actually considered, very momentarily, trying to add in some jargon of his own, but with the look he got earlier about his comment about e-commerce, he quickly thought better of it. Doyle shook his head and realized that Willow had stopped talking. She was talking a drink of her juice and Doyle took the chance to ask, "So how do you know Angel, if I may be so bold?" Willow looked at him sidelong for a moment and then said, "Well, you probably know about Angel and Buffy. Well, since I'm Buffy's friend, I got to know Angel a little when the two of them weren't either making out or fighting. And since we lived on a Hellmouth, Angel was around a lot, you know fighting demons and vampires and generally saving all of us. Then he lost his soul when he and Buffy...ummm...consummated. I performed a spell to give Angel his soul back..." "Wait," Doyle interrupted. "You gave Angel his soul back? I knew he had lost it and got it back, but he never said how. Wow. That must have been pretty tough." "Well, not really," Willow replied. "It wasn't a hard spell. The really tough part was going to hell to get Angel back." Willow shuddered involuntarily at the thought. The Connection Doyle looked at Willow in astonishment and thought his jaw would hit the floor. This pretty, fragile young woman went to Hell to get Angel back. He just couldn't believe it. He tried to say something, but could only move his jaw up and down like some deranged fish. Either that or stutter. After only a moment or two, Willow took pity on Doyle and placed a finger on his chin and pushed it closed. "People always do that when they find out I went to Hell. It wasn't a big deal. I just wanted my friend back." Doyle's jaw dropped open again, but thankfully words would actually come out this time. "No big deal? Are ye crazy? This is Hell we're talking about! You could've been killed!" Doyle was flailing his arms and looking around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. Willow stood up and pointed a finger at Doyle, her anger suddenly consuming her. "No I'm not crazy," Willow replied her cheeks flushing a dark red that almost matched her hair. Doyle found it strangely arousing. "I would do anything for him. Haven't you ever had something like that? Someone you would do anything for?" Willow picked up her trash and, with tears running down her cheeks, she threw her trash away and ran out the door. Doyle halfheartedly smiled at everyone who looked over at their table. He threw away his coffee cup and headed outside, not sure that he knew what he was going to say. Willow ran to the car and pulled open the glove compartment looking for her tissues. She found them and pulled one out of the package. She wiped her eyes and then made a small growling noise as she felt her nose starting to run. She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. She was blowing her nose when Doyle came out and leaned against the side of the car and waited for her to finish. Willow was startled when Doyle's voice reached out to her. "I do, ye know. Have someone I care about that much, I mean. Someone I would go to Hell for. Do anything she asked." Doyle stared off into the horizon, not making eye contact with Willow. He didn't think he could after what transpired in the cafe. Doyle's voice softened until Willow had to lean closer to hear. "I love her so much. More than any woman I've ever known. She doesn't know it as I haven't told her." Willow sniffled. "Why haven't you told her? I mean the most she can do is not return your love." She ran a hand through her hair, which was hanging down into her face. "That's where you're wrong, lass. You know that whole 'let's be friends' nonsense that women say to men when they don't want to go out with them?" Doyle waited for Willow to nod. "That is the worst thing that can happen. If a woman rejects a man, then it's over and done with. The man can move on. With that whole 'friends' thing, it isn't over. The man and the woman still see each other and the fact is that the guy has bared his soul, so to speak, and they both have to deal with that feeling day in and day out. I don't know if I can handle that. And that is why I won't tell her how I feel." Doyle leaned back against the side of the car, trying to push away his anger. He knew he shouldn't feel angry towards Willow, but he just couldn't help it. Willow blinked at Doyle's sudden display of rage. Even in the short time she had known him, she was sure he was a clam person. Maybe he had fits of concern, but not anger. It just wasn't Doyle. "I...I'm sorry I upset you. I didn't know..." Doyle chuckled. "That's okay, lass. You didn't know. Exactly. Now you do, so maybe you'll be a little wiser in the future." Doyle glanced down at his watch. "We should head back to the office and see if Angel's back yet. After all, it was Angel to stopped by to see, right?" "Sure," was all Willow said as she climbed into the seat. There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between her and Doyle as she drove back to Angel's office. When they got back to the office, there was no sign of Angel or Cordelia. There was, on Angel's desk, a note for Doyle from Angel saying that he had to go pick up something and would be back around sunset. "Well, Willow. I guess it's just the two of us for another couple of hours. Anything you want to do? Anything you want to see here in the big city? I mean, this is L.A. This is the city that never sleeps. Forget New York. So. What's it gonna be?" Willow giggled at his wild patter. He almost sounded like a carnival barker. "Well," Willow said once the giggles had subsided. "I've always wanted my picture taken in front of the big 'Hollywood' sign up in the hills." She looked at Doyle with her head down, feeling really silly. "That's it? That's what you want to do? Your picture in front of the Hollywood sign?" "Yeah. Pretty silly, I guess." "Silly, lass? Nah. I think it's the most wonderful thing that you could have thought up. I'll get directions and we'll get going." They went into Angel's office and got out the maps and figured out the best way to get to the Hollywood Hills. It was going to be rough, what with construction and all. Still, after about an hour and a half, they reached a spot that was famous for people having their picture taken in front of the sign. Willow sighed and Doyle was suddenly concerned. "What is it, Willow? Isn't this what you wanted?" "Well, I was kind of hoping we could get a little closer. But this will be fine." Willow sighed again slightly and Doyle was heartbroken, dying to do anything to make it right. Doyle thought for a moment and then called to Willow. "Willow, get in the car. I'm driving. I know exactly where to go." Doyle hurried to start the car and barely waited until Willow had gotten into the passenger seat to gun the engine and head off into the hills. Doyle drive for about forty five minutes, taking turns and twists like it was second nature. Willow felt the buzz of magic about her. "Doyle? What are you doing? Where are we going?" Doyle smiled at Willow's concern. "Lass, don't worry. You're a witch. You know bad magic when you feel it." Willow gasped, partly from what Doyle had said and partly from the magic she was feeling. "How did you know I was a...oh yeah. You're part demon. Silly me." Willow was glad that Doyle was concentrating on the road so that he didn't notice her blush. Doyle chuckled and drove on for another five minutes. He stopped the car and turned the ignition off. "We're here, Willow. What do you think?" Willow stepped out of the car and looked up. They were standing at the base of the Hollywood sign. Willow gaped for several seconds before she sputtered "How did you...when did we...oh, thank you, Doyle!" She ran around the car and gave Doyle a great big hug, holding on for a couple of seconds longer than necessary, not that Doyle minded. Willow went back to the car and leaned over the seat to get her camera out of the glove compartment. Doyle took the opportunity to enjoy the view he got when Willow leaned over. "Okay, Doyle. You know how to use a camera, right?" "What do I look like? Someone who...uh...doesn't know how to use a camera?" Doyle tried to come up with something clever and witty to say, but Willow was laughing at what he was saying already, so he quit trying. "Well, go on. Go over there so I can take your picture." Willow walked over and leaned against the 'Y', crossed her arms and smiled. Doyle focused on her and then pulled his head to the side of the camera. "Is that all you've got? It's going to take a better pose than that to be a model." Willow blushed again and thought for a minute. "Okay," she said. "How's this?" With that, she faced the sign and then leaned into the 'Y' with her head turned back over her shoulder, her hair falling gently over her face. Doyle focused again and nearly dropped the camera when he got her in focus. She almost looked like she was offering herself to him, but he knew that couldn't happen. They had only just met. "Doyle? What do you think?" 'Oh my.' "Um...that's great, lass. Hold on one more second." Doyle clicked the picture and then burned the image into his mind. He didn't want to forget what she looked like at that instant. When Doyle's finger pushed the shutter button, something happened. As he snapped the picture, he thought about how beautiful Willow was, just how sexy she was. Then, they connected. Waves of magic flowed between the half-demon and the witch. In that instant, they were joined, both of them following the path of Doyle's fantasy about her. --- In Doyle's mind, they were in his bed, sheets twisted around them, both of them moaning and making grunting noises as they pleased one another. Doyle moved on top of her, back and forth, Willow's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer with every thrust. His mouth covered her upper body in kisses, licking and sucking on every available inch of skin. Willow pulled his mouth to her, biting his lips and then licking them, groaning with every one of his movements. He held his arms close to her, his hands moving up and down her body, when Willow held him with her legs and rolled over on top of him, grinning down, her red hair hanging in his face. She moved up and down on him quickly, her head thrown back, small noises coming from the back of her throat. Doyle let his hands roam up her body, caressing her small, pert breasts, her nipples hard as diamonds, her hand resting on his stomach as she rode him. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her down hard with each thrust, Willow suddenly crying out, her muscles clenching around him as she orgasmed, her entire body flushed. Doyle kept thrusting up into her, Willow whining high in her throat as the aftershocks ran through her body. All of this set Doyle off and he flooded into her, each shake of her body making him groan, his groin pulsing with each ejaculation. Willow lay down on top of him, both breathing heavy and deeply as their orgasms subsided. "Goddess, Doyle. That was amazing," she said, still slowly moving on him. She climbed off of him and lay down next to Doyle, her hand resting on his chest. "Aye, lass, it was. You were incredible." He ran his fingers through her hair and over her damp forehead. --- With a shake of his head, Doyle realized he was still standing on the hill right below the 'Y' of the Hollywood sign and Willow was still where she had been, but her head was leaning against the giant letter, her shoulders moving up and down as though crying. "Willow," he cried, moving toward her, slinging the camera around his neck. He raced to her and touched her shoulder and realized she wasn't crying, she was just breathing deeply, her face flushed, her skin warm. Like she had had an orgasm. "Doyle," she gasped. "What just happened?" Doyle realized that they had both gotten caught up in his fantasy. He was pretty sure Willow knew what happened, too. He opened his mouth but no words came out. He opened it again with the same result. Thinking of nothing he could say or do, he gently wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her back to the car. "Doyle, what happened out there?" "I don't know, lass. I honestly don't know." "Okay. Maybe it was a magic thing. I mean, you're half-demon and I'm a witch, so maybe it was the magic that connected everything and made me...us...do...that." Willow frowned in the dusk. "I don't know, Willow. But it happened. And I'm sorry." Doyle gripped the steering wheel hard with both hands. "Doyle," Willow said softly. He grunted in response. "I'm not," she said with a grin. --- They got out of the car back at Angel's building, Doyle unsure of what was going to happen next. Then, Willow surprised him. She came up and hugged him. "Thanks." She gave him a quick soft kiss on the lips. Doyle was stunned. "What was that for?" Willow stepped back and looked at him. "For taking care of me because Angel's not here. A girl needs a big strong man to protect her in the concrete jungle." Willow laughed at her own joke and realized it was starting to get dark. "And for what happened up there." She looked around. "We better head in. I don't want to miss Angel." Doyle sighed inwardly. He wanted to take her out dancing, anything to spend more time with her, getting to know his new friend. 'Friend,' Doyle reminded himself. 'Angel would kill me if I ever did anything bad to her. I know I would certainly kill me.' They slowly walked up the stairs, Willow taking Doyle's hand. He and Willow were quiet for some time when Willow turned to him. "Can I ask you a question? I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want to." Doyle turned, giving her a puzzled look. "No. Go ahead and ask. I have nothing to hide. Well, not from you, anyway. But those loan sharks are completely wrong." Willow laughed at Doyle's ranting. She found them funny, even though he could be completely serious about the loan sharks. "Well, I was wondering..." --- When they got back to the office, there was still no sign of Angel, but Willow decided they should stay in, so that she could see him. She and Doyle sat on the office couch, talking and laughing. "So, I have another question," Willow said. Doyle turned his head lazily towards her. "Ask away, fair maiden." "What's Angel like these days? I mean, back in Sunnydale, he brooded a lot and he didn't hang out much, though I certainly tried. But for some reason, he never wanted to come near the rest of us, especially after he and Buffy broke up. Once that happened, he brooded even more, if that's possible." "Well," Doyle said reflectively. "Angel's different. He takes this saving souls business very seriously. I mean, he's trying to purge himself of guilt. He gets a little bit better with every soul he saves. But he still broods, still wears all the dark clothes..." "And he hates it when people put their feet on his coffee table." Both Doyle and Willow jumped as Angel walked in, Doyle reflexively putting an arm around Willow, trying to protect her from danger. "Good Lord, man," Doyle started. Are ye trying to give us both heart attacks?" Angel laughed and then noticed whom Doyle was sitting on the couch with. "Willow! What are you doing here?" Willow laughed at the two of them and then recited her story about the computer conference and stopping out and running into Doyle and what a great time they had. "Well, I'm glad that Doyle here was able to take care of you while I was gone. I ran into some demons picking on some homeless people when I was on my way back here." He looked Willow up and down and then hugged her, actually glad to see one of the old gang. At least Buffy hadn't shown up with Willow. That would have been...interesting to say the least. Willow, Doyle and Angel stayed up for a few more hours until Willow started to yawn. "Well, I should get to my hotel. It's only a few blocks from here." Willow stood up and stretched and looked happily sleepy at the others. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here, Willow? It's not like I actually use my bed. At least not much." Angel had a look of concern on his face. "Oh please, man. Like she would want to stay in that drab dump down there. She'd be 'blahed' to death due to lack of color." Angel glared at Doyle. "Oh. And I suppose your apartment is a much more colorful place to live. I guess that's what you get for not cleaning the place or doing the laundry." It was Doyle's turn to glare back at Angel. After a minute, both men started to laugh at themselves and each other. "I think I'll be fine back at my hotel. I'll stop by and see you guys tomorrow." Willow walked over and gave Angel a hug and then turned to Doyle. "I had a great time today. I'll see you tomorrow." She gave Doyle a hug and another one of those mind blowing little kisses on the cheek." "Good night, Willow." Angel said. "Good night, fair maiden." Doyle said once he had reluctantly let her go. "Good night Angel. Good night, Francis." With a quick spin, Willow was out the door and on her way down the steps. Doyle sighed and watched her go. He wanted to run down and take her in his arms again. That was just heavenly. Angel sighed as well. "Doyle, thanks for taking care of her. I'm going downstairs to check on some research." Angel noticed Doyle was hardly paying attention. "Oh. And by the way..." Angel waited for a moment for Doyle to turn around. "Yeah?" "Francis?" Angel ran, laughing, into his office and into the elevator as he heard Doyle fighting with the locked door. The Connection Another trail of wet kisses and I licked my way around his naval, then to the little hairs at the top of his pelvis. He shuddered as I thumbed the head of his prick, gliding the layer of precum all over the tip. My mouth was salivating to envelop this beautiful cock. I used my hand to guide his hardness closer to my lips, running the tip of it all over my mouth, sticking my tongue out to get it slippery with my saliva. My hand was on his ass as his cock entered my hot, waiting mouth and deep into my throat. I thought he was going to come right there, but he held on, not moving for the longest time. Up and down on his cock I moved my lips, over his shaft, with my slick hands helping him go deep into my throat. He fucked my mouth, groaning and writhing. I pulled back, letting his cock fall from my lips, and I watched with amazement as it dripped precum and saliva on my tits. The big blue vein down the shaft bulged and pumped with every beat of his heart. He fisted his hands in my hair and thrust himself at my mouth, trying desperately to find the hot wet tunnel. He was soon inside my mouth again, relieved and almost in pain when he found it, and pumped furiously. "Come in my mouth baby," I coaxed him. "Come on my tits...see how hard my nipples are. You are so hard Evan. Give me your come." That seemed to drive him over the edge as he eagerly pumped my mouth. My fist wrapped around his shaft and jerked him as he entered and exited my mouth. The wetness that we had been building together was slathered on my chest. My nipples were erect again and wanting his come. His cock slid over my tits and I worked the head against my tight peaks. His moans were coming louder and and shorter as the muscles in his stomach tightened. He fucked my tits, my mouth and my hands in rapid succession and I could feel the come building from his balls and travelling down his tight shaft. Holding tightly to my shoulders, Evan lurched, grunted and moaned a long and painful groan as he tried to silently come. My pussy was pulsating in rhythm with his cock as he came like a fountain all over my chest. As soon as it started, it was over and I got to my feet, kissed his mouth and vacated for the ladies" room. Luckily, we weren't caught in the act, but the thrill of if was arousing in itself. No sooner had I returned to the pool room and was seated with Evan, when I heard the chipper singing of the bartender, who brought us two more beers and announced that we had company coming. Looking at Evan, I tried to catch a coherent breath. Joe and John, the other foreman on the crew, were coming in the front door. Oh my God, he's going to know! As if reading my mind, Evan touched my hand with reassurance. "It'll be fine, don't worry." He dropped more coins in the pool table and we were were just getting back on even ground when the boys strolled into the pool room "Hey guys, how's it going?" John asked. The rain had started, a quick thunderstorm had passed over the city while Evan and I were brewing our own kind of storm. "Why are you so wet?" Evan asked them. "Is it raining out there?" "Uh, yeah, where have you been for the last half hour?" Joe asked him, coming over to me and planting a kiss on my lips. Stunned, I looked at him and blinked. He was drenched. But then again, so was I and it had nothing to do with the weather outside. "What's wrong?" he asked me. "How much have you had to drink? You look a little pale." "Not nearly enough," I told him. "I'm having fun with Evan. He's cool. I like him a lot." "Not too much," he said, growling in my ear. "I can't wait to get you out of here and into that motel." I did a mental eye roll and nodded at him. Evan and John were talking about the job. Evan was instructing him to have the roof tarped before they left the site. As soon as the rain let up, the men were to continue with their assignment, while Evan continued with his assignment...entertaining me. "Don't get too friendly," Joe warned his boss. Evan stood beside me, and putting his arm around me, told Joe that there was no need to worry. He would take good care of me. "That's what I'm worried about," he said. "Hello? I'm standing right here," I said to Joe, annoyed that they were talking as if I was invisible. "I can take care of myself, and I don't need you to worry about me or baby sit me! And quit being so possessive. It's not like you're single!" Where the hell was that coming from? Must have been the beer, because I sure wouldn't have said that to him had I been sober. John, bless his heart, burst out laughing. "You tell him, Jade. I knew I liked you. As soon as I saw your tatoos, (I have a tribal eagle on my arm and a couple ankle tats that were all but covered by my jeans). I knew you were cool, and you have a mouth as well. I love that in a woman." John was about 6-2, and 200 pounds of rock. His bare arms, which were like iron pipes protruding from his tattered black muscle shirt, were covered in colorful tatoos of skulls, dragons, gargoyles and other sci-fi creatures. He wore his jeans well and his bandanna was soaked to his scalp. His moustache covered a mouthful of crooked, but white teeth. He was a likeable guy, in a bad-ass sort of way. I immediately loved him for his support. "Thanks John, and I like you too." I flashed him a smile, snarled at Joe and turned away from Evan to head to the bar for a shooter of tequila. I needed to get a grip. To sort out in my head what the hell I was doing. I was playing a dangerous game with two men. One I wanted in the worst way, the other, I'd rather not have to go through with the charade I was into up to my neck. "Tequila, please hun," I told her when the bartender asked what I wanted. "You ok?" she asked. It was like she could read my mind. "Yeah...nodding my head, my eyes started to swim with tears. "No, I'm not ok, but I'll be fine. I just have to sort this out." "If it's any indication of what's going on between you and the little hottie, I'd say you just need to get out of here, with him." She smiled, poured me a shooter and joined me in one herself. "Cheers,'"I said, raising my shot glass to hers. "Cheers," she replied and together we downed our drinks in one gulp, sans lemon and salt. "Evan is a very nice guy. I don't know about Joe, but I'd say you have your hands full. I do know though, that Joe has a girlfriend." "I know, I'm the ex," I said to Rebecca, as I learned was her name. Nodding, she popped the top on another Coors Light for me and before she set it on the bar, Evan was there to pay for both my drinks and the bartender's shooter. "Thanks Evan," I said. "But you don't have to buy my drinks." Placing his hand over mine, which was about to fish out another cigarette from my pack on the bar, he looked into my eyes. "I want to. It makes me happy to be able to do that for you." He took a cigarette from my package, lit it and handed it to me. With a subtle squeeze of my hand, he dropped a $20 on the bar and went back to talk to his two foremen. "I've never seen that look in his eyes before," Rebecca told me. "He comes here often?" "Often enough," she said. "He's not happy. When he looked at you just now, it was like he would do anything to make you smile. You two seem to click, and I have seen many people in here who don't click, whether they should or they shouldn't isn't anyone's business but their own...but you two, you just have this aura about you. Like you have finally met after being so long in a raging sea." Yes, that's what it felt like to me as well. I couldn't shake the feelings inside, like I'd had met Evan before. Almost like...being lost at sea and finally coming home. John and Joe left the bar moments later and Evan took the stool beside mine. "You ok?" He asked. "I'm ok...you?" 'Better now, now that they're gone," he said, turning me on my stool to face him. He straddled me in a comfortable embrace of our legs. He leaned in to kiss my cheek. Now that th bartender knew what was going on, we had no reason to hide our feelings, even though we were only just discovering them ourselves. And there was no one either of us knew in the bar. My hand reached up to his cheek, pulling him closer to me. I kissed him soundly on the mouth, searching for his tongue. I wasn't caring who saw mee now. Instantly, he was hard again and we were seeking tongues in a passionate kiss. "How long are they going to be. I asked, once regretably pulled apart. "They'll be a few more hours anyway." I grinned. "Let's get out of here." "You read my mind," he said, taking my hand, and after leaving Rebecca a sizeable tip, we left the back way. "I just need to get out of here, like far away from here," I told Evan. He seemed to understand as we headed to my car. I had enough to drink and at the last moment, decided that we should walk to clear our heads. "Sounds good to me," he said, still holding my hand. It felt nice, to talk down the street, holding hands with a man who totally turned me inside out. The brief thunderstorm that swept through left the streets wet, but the air was still muggy and thick with humidity. The sun was beginning to find its way out from behind the clouds once again. "I like you," he said. "A lot. You tweak me." "Tweak?" "I've never been tweaked by a woman before, he said. "With you, I have relaxed for the first time in years. That's tryly amazing for me." Running a busy contruction company has its moments and through the summer, Evan was going to be swamped with jobs, both big and small. He was trying to organize work crews for six different contrats while sitting with me at the bar. I felt as though I was invading his time and space, and told him so. "Believe me, Jade, if I wanted to be or needed to be anywhere else but here, I would be." It was wonderful to hear those words from that mouth. I stopped abruptly, turned to him, wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. "Thank you for saying that," I said, smiling up at him. "You are more than welcome." We walked ahead a little farther and I heard him chuckle. "What?" I asked. "Wow." "Wow?" "Just wow...just you...WOW." I didn't want to get all philosophical on him so I didn' want to talk about how it felt to be with him, even if it was only for a day, an hour, a few moments. I didn't want to tell him that it felt like we'd been together in a past life, that we'd been to this spot, as lovers, before. "What are you thinking," he asked. "About how much meeting you has made me happy," I said. "Do you ever feel like you've known someone before? Even if you've only just met them?" Mouth agape, I could only stare at him. "That's exactly what I was thinking, I said. "Really?" "Yes, really...I was thinking about how I've never had a connection with someone like this before. How even from our first hand shake, it was like...sparks or something." "I still have your message on my voice mail," he said. "I can't bare to erase it. I knew there was something about you the first moment I heard your voice." "Evan, this is..." "Jade, this is..." We laughed. "You first," I said. "No, ladies first." "What were you going to say?" In unison, we stopped, looked into each other's eyes and said the one word we were both thinking, but were afraid to say it aloud. "Crazy." His hands snaked around my back and mine around his neck once again. We embraced on the street like a couple of teenagers hot for each other's bodies on an even hotter summer day. Our kiss was one of passion and promises not yet made but whispered to no one but God in the weeks previous too this meeting. "Do you ever wonder about fate? About what it's like to fall in love at first site?" I asked him. "No Jade, I don't wonder about that," he said. "Oh," I said, trying to mask my disappointment. "Not anymore."