Uninhibited

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Summary

18+ ~~~This is a prequel, spin-off to Ties~~~ Briar Hayes has lived her entire life being polite, never daring to speak the crazy and wild thoughts running through her head. At almost twenty-five, living a bored life, in a dull relationship, she decides she's had enough, throws the filter out the window and moves back home. Spending a week with her best friend, Chaz😈, proves to be filled with a few surprises when his old roomate comes to visit at the same time. With her new bold and uninhibited behavior, she goes for what she wants. Navigating the in's and out's of adult life, with a few other in's and out's. ~~~~~~ "I'm not sure what thing is the exact nail in the proverbial coffin, but the second I feel a twitch, another one starts, in my eye. Like a time-bomb, just waiting to explode. Is it the revelation that I'm fed up, never saying the things that I want to? Putting on this perfect show? The fact that my favorite coffee shop is closing down-that's probably the front runner. As he shudders, shakes and thank God, finishes this irritating-both mentally and physically-wham bam, something snaps. "That was-" "That sucked!" ~~~~THIS IS A FIRST DRAFT, unedited. If you see mistakes by all means lemme know 💅💅💅💅💅

Genre:
Romance / Humor
Author:
Laurenwolfe12
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
53
Rating:
5.0 24 reviews
Age Rating:
18+

That’s Nice

Briar


You’d think I’d be getting sick of this at my age.

Living in a frat-life college town, graduated over a year ago, can’t seem to find a decent paying job in interior design. Having a degree in fine arts should make me more marketable, right? Actually degrees, plural. Nope, no one gives a shit. They all prefer someone with experience. How can you get experience if you can’t get a job?

My parents offered me a position at their realty firm—they’d pushed for me to go for business—but that would require change. And change is hard, not to mention... uncomfortable.

Anyway, I’ve been content working at the same little off-campus coffee shop for the last multiple years, and it’s paid the bills up till now, so why not? Did the college thing, which took me for-fucking-ever. It used to be a good time, but lately, I just feel like I need more. This same old song and dance isn’t as fun as it used to be.

“You like that?”

“Mm-hmm...” I study my nails with an absolute and shockingly obvious disinterest—not in my nails. Those bitches desperately need a manicure. Pale pink paint chipping slightly at the corners. I really need to do better with the whole self-care thing.

Balancing on all fours, well, knees and elbows, the scorching Arizona sun casting searing rays of light all over the room, making me feel itchy. Why’s it always sunny here!? Internally, I groan, taking in the obsessive and orderly state of his room. Not my boyfriend, because he doesn’t like labels.

“How ’bout this?” he asks, pretending as if it’s a question, like he’s awaiting some sort of approval. No. He’s asking... saying it out loud, probably thinking, that’s hot? He more than likely has a premium subscription to some porn site, and he’s legit speaking the scripted words.

Don’t get me wrong, dirty talk or what have you, could be sexy, I’m sure. But I think that depends on the partner.

Here’s the thing. I have yet—and I’m embarrassed to admit this at twenty-four—to have an orgasm from just the physical anatomy of a man. I mean it. Finger, tongue... nada.

But anyway, not that I haven’t ever. Of course, I have. Got all sorts of power tools to help with that, and the feeling is incredible. But from sex or even foreplay—batteries not included? Nope. Never.

Talk about a fucking buzzkill.

A sharp—and definitely not reading the audience—palm connects with the skin of my bare ass. A shock wave rushes straight up to my brain, screaming at me—what the hell are you doing?

“Feels. So. Good.” Austin grunts out annoying breathy groans in time with his words, delivering pounding thrusts like some energizer bunny.

“Maybe for you,” I say, smacking a hand over my mouth. Wait, was that out loud? I stay frozen on the white comforter, military-style corners tightly tucked under the sides of his mattress.

“Huh?” His confused voice cracks out from behind me.

“That’s nice,” I reply, quickly recovering from my momentary filter dysfunction.

That’s nice?

No. A hot cup of coffee early in the morning, a lovely bouquet, a new outfit—that shit’s nice. This is fucking blah!

Here’s the problem.

I’m an only child, born into a prominent family. My parents are well-known socialites, and fairly high up in the real estate industry—at least back home. They constantly reminded me I was representing them growing up. All of my choices and decisions would reflect and have a potential negative impact on the family business.

Formally raised as a well-bred show pony, if you will. Trained to appear well put together, to be on my best behavior, to always slap a polite smile on my face, and be extra with the please and thank you’s. Honestly, that shit is for the birds. I’ve been dying to say the crazy things out loud that run through my mind.

It’s been years of this, and sadly, the soft, mostly kind nature of the people I’ve come into contact with, in the southwest—not that I fault the Zen attitude—has done little to help me break out of my shell.

So my—that’s nice—is more or less a much tamer and socially acceptable alternative to saying; Go fuck yourself.

I continue examining the chip of polish on the corner of my middle finger, reflecting on the events from earlier today. Liz, my employer, told me they’re shutting down, can’t compete with the monster companies that swooped in, who ultimately eat up all the unique and incredible local businesses.

Bastards.

Anyway, I came over here to talk about it, to vent. And what did he do? What he always does. Turns the convo into something about himself and enjoys the comfort of my obedient nature—on the outside. How’d we end up in here? Because I’m a push-over. I’ve let myself fall into the same routine, becoming well... a doormat.

I wanted to confide, to share my frustration with Austin. Yes, Austin, last name, fucking Powers. And he is definitely not making me horny.

Anyway, get out that solid laugh. I know I’ve wanted to on multiple occasions. Can you imagine? I mean, it’s not like his parents knew. He was born way before that shit came out.

We’ve been dating for the last two years. Why? I don’t know? He’s decent on the eyes, was smart in school—brains are a plus—desirable body. Looks good on paper. We can keep ticking off the checklist. If I’m being honest, he’s a mega douche. No wonder my best friend can’t stand him.

Turns out, if you haven’t already gotten this memo, I’m a vastly different person in my head than I am in actual life. And you should all say a silent prayer about that fact. It’s true, though. The filter has been on for... well... forever.

My body shakes with each pounding thrust he rams into me. I’m not sure how much more jarring I can take.

Okay, so back to fucking Austin. Well, not fucking, Austin. But, technically, I suppose...

“You love it like this, don’t you?” His hard breaths pant out, heating through the fabric of my top. Yup, kept that on, went straight for the kill.

Bruh.

Would you go down a water slide that wasn’t wet!? You can thank Google for that one. No, you fucking wouldn’t.

Foreplay is a thing, it’s fairly important. You don’t just go out and start an engine in twenty-degree weather and expect that baby to purr. Hells no!

Sadly, Austin, the guy who shags me—okay, I’ll stop—definitely doesn’t know how to handle the cat.

I’m not sure which thing is the exact nail in the proverbial coffin, but the second I feel a twitch, another one starts in my eye. Like a time-bomb, waiting to explode.

Is it the revelation that I’m fed up, never revealing the things that I want? Putting on this perfect show? That my favorite coffee shop is closing down—that’s probably the front runner. As he shudders, shakes, and thank God, finishes this irritating—both mentally and physically—wham bam, something snaps.

“That was—”

“That sucked!”

Flipping over on the bed after I let the words slingshot from my mouth, I glimpse him staggering backwards, a confused look screwing up his face.

Austin’s head jerks to the side. He runs a hand over his buzzed, high and tight, light hair.

“Wha—”

“It fucking sucked,” I reiterate, a solid emphasis on the last word. Scooting to the edge of the bed, grabbing his discarded shirt, I do a quick swipe before throwing it at him. Okay, that’s kinda nasty. Whatever.

“Babe, are you alright?”

“No,” I reply, finding my underwear and jeans—of course, folded neatly on the chair in the white-walled room—pulling them on in a hurry. I’m done being quiet. I’m done being bored. “But I will be.”

“Did I do...?”

I feel like a tiny crack in a windshield, barely visible, and suddenly it’s splintering, spidering, extending to every corner in a rapid rippling effect. Time to shatter this fucking glass!

“You ignore me half the time.” I zip my fly. “You only wanna have sex, which is never good. You don’t listen to a word that comes out of my mouth.” He stands there in a daze. I’m done being compliant. Wiping the dark strands of hair from my face, I continue, “You sleep around with other women. And I should have told you this a long time ago, but I was being... nice.”

“Am I missing something? Are you... are you seriously going to walk out on me? It’s not like I’m cheating. We have an open relationship.”

“You know what, Austin? Yup… I am. I’m walking out on you, walking out on this town. I’m sick of holding in the shit I feel like saying, of doing the right thing all the time. Consider our relationship closed.” How the hell did I allow this to go on for so long? I release the longest and most relieved breath of my life.

“You fucking bitch.”

I raise my brows, walking over to the door, quickly searching around the room to make sure I haven’t left anything here. Wait... I’m a bitch? Okay, maybe in my head, but up till now, nah... don’t think so.

Turning to face him, my hand squeezes tighter around the doorknob. I feel my nostrils flare. No, I don’t feel them; I see them. My eyes narrow as I clench my teeth. Austin glowers at me... Austin Powers glowers. I gotta stop.

“You won’t find anyone as good as me,” he snarls, the corner of his lip turning up in an arrogant smile.

I wasted two years with this fucknut?

“I don’t know.” Shrugging, I laugh to myself, knowing exactly who I need to call. Who will accept me for the person I truly am. The only one I’ve ever revealed my true thought to. “You set the bar pretty low.”

Leaving him standing there, jaw dropped, I just can’t help myself because if I’m gonna let this freak flag fly, I’m not half-masting it.

Sticking my head back in the doorway, I deliver direct eye contact. “Just a tip,” I say, his face turns a deeper shade of red. “If you have to ask a woman if they’ve had an orgasm”—fists tighten at his sides—“the answer is always no!”

And with that last bit... I’m fucking out!

Deuces Phoenix. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us!

—-

I step out from the airport, inhaling in a rush of oxygen that finally makes me feels like I’m at home. Just kidding, it’s New York City, not quite home, but getting warmer. I’m legit, jam-packed next to people, shoulder to shoulder. Sucking in a large quantity of smog and exhaust fumes. Giving and receiving dirty looks and a heaping dose of go fuck yourself glares. Ah, there’s that home feel.

When I made the swift decision to leave, I didn’t know exactly what to do, but I knew I had to get out of there immediately. I told my parents that I was accepting their offer because I need a job. My mother said she knew of a perfect apartment for me in the city, safe neighborhood, walking distance to the office—a must. She was relieved when I told her Austin and I broke it off, stating that on the single occasion she had met him, she never liked that young man. Coulda declared that one sooner, Mom. Not like I would have gotten a backbone.

I need a minute, more like a week, to get my head on straight. Okay, that’s a lie. But, I could use a few days to unwind, to be around someone else who lives a fairly unfiltered life. I packed up my tiny apartment and booked a flight.

“Well, look who it is?” His deep voice calls out, I almost do a double-take at his head to toe professional attire. Finding a sense of calm in the blaring horns and chatter of the crowded arrivals area, along with that familiar face.

“You know you missed me.” I flash a grin, taking in the widening green eyes at my new me appearance.

That’s right, I figured if I was developing a don’t give a fuck attitude, then I better dress the part. Tight jeans, tiny tank, leather jacket—thank God it’s a little chilly. September can be unpredictable.

“You look amazing, Bri.” A huge grin spreads across his lips, unfolding his arms from the front of his suit, smoothing down his jacket. He stands up straight from the side of some blacked out SUV.

“I missed you!” I don’t even fight the squeal as Chaz, my ride or die, wraps his arms around my back, lifting me, spinning me around.

“I’m sure you did,” he replies, lowering me to the sidewalk with his typical cocky grin. “You look...” He blows out a long breath, running a palm through his hair. “You look”—he flashes blindingly white teeth—“hot.”

“Gross.” I crinkle my nose—he’s like my brother. I shake my head with a grunt as Chaz lugs my suitcase across the ground, handing them off to his driver. “Fancy,” I remark, as he does a little shoulder lift.

“I’m rich as fuck now, remember?”

“Right, right. Anyway, look at you, Mister Wall Street.”

“The Wolf of Wall Street.”

“More like the Wolf of what the fuck.”

A few breathy laughs escape his nostrils. Rolling his eyes, Chaz opens the car door, sliding in next to me.

“So, you’re okay? This is kind of unexpected...” Throwing his hands up after buckling, he eyes me curiously. A wide, growing smile curls the corners of my heavily glossed lips.

“I’m great,” I reply. “And I’m ready to live it up.”

He nods. “So you sowed your wild oats?” Raising a brow with an amused look, smirk on full tilt. The driver weaves through an insane amount of traffic. I deliver out a single hah, my ponytail whipping behind me as I turn to him. His mischievous grin matching my own.

“I’m just getting started.”



A/N: well, well, well. There’s your intro... Thoughts? Comments? 😈😈😈😈😈 thanks for reading, commenting and please remember if you enjoy to tick that lil heart☺️


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