Alina Said Call Me, Maybe (A Short Romance) Read online

  WARNING: This erotic romance, Alina Said “Call Me, Maybe” (A Short Romance) is told completely from a man’s point of view and has some explicit language so hot it will steam your glasses if you wear glasses. If you don’t wear glasses, turn off the fire alarm. Just in case. A story written for mature readers only.

  What Readers are Saying

  “I was pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed this short read! With the title of Sexual Groping at an Airport [Author’s note: The title has changed since this review], I was expecting erotica, but what I got was a unique story about a student researching how far you could test a woman’s tolerance to being dominated in a public place. Even though, as the reader, I knew what Jonathan’s intentions were, I kept wondering how far Alina would let him go. They quickly became comfortable enough with each other that they began to connect on an intimate level. What started out as an experiment for Jonathan turned into the beginning of a love connection.”

  —Vicki, reviewer on Goodreads

  “Alina Said “Call Me, Maybe” (A Short Romance) is a fun short story. Liz Adams has created a wonderful story that will ensnare you. You'll wonder about the interactions between two people attracted to each other. What draws them to each other? What makes them act they way they do? What makes them act on those desires? Even if they just met! This is a great story! While it is a short-story, it’s packed with some amazing passion.”

  —Lee Anne Garland, writer at My Secret Romance Book Reviews http://www.mysecretromancebookreviews.com

  “I love Liz Adam’s erotic shorts! Alina Said “Call Me, Maybe” (A Short Romance) is no exception. Liz Adams can develop a real 3D character that the reader can feel and believe in with few words. For example, I felt Jonathan’s pain over the actions of his shallow girlfriend’s behavior. The way it wrapped up was just how I’d hoped. If you’re looking for a well written, very hot, and steamy erotic story that has wonderful characters I recommend Liz Adams. My husband is always happy when he finds out I’ve gotten another Liz Adams story.”

  —Tala, erotica book reviewer at Darker Passions http://www.darkerpassions.net

  ALINA SAID “CALL ME, MAYBE”

  Copyright © 2013 by Liz Adams

  All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Liz Adams.

  Published by:

  Barany Publishing

  Oakland, CA

  ALINA SAID “CALL ME, MAYBE”

  (A Short Romance)

  Liz Adams

  Jonathan’s thoughts bugged him. Why do women fall for jerks? What’s the appeal of being submissive to a dominant man? Damn it. He’d thought he no longer had to worry about what women want from men.

  His Toyota hummed as he drove further from his dorm to the nearest BART station. The afternoon sun, doomed to set, seized the day by shedding her final light across the city. Berkeley’s colors were grey to him these days. The life it had when he first arrived now seemed old and stale. When he saw the Bay Area Rapid Transit sign, he steered into the parking lot.

  He’d thought that once he had a girlfriend, he didn’t have to think about the right way to court a woman. With his girlfriend Sue, that excruciating part of his life would be over.

  Memories spilled into his mind.

  ***

  Jonathan had been waiting for Sue in her dorm room. She had spent the evening at a real estate mixer and her roommate had gone out after letting him in. Knowing Sue would be hungry, he prepared a chicken dinner with green beans and a salad for when she returned. Once the food was ready, he set all the burners on low. He had some extra time and took the opportunity to work on a short story about Amsterdam that his mind had been toying with.

  A half-hour later, Sue walked in stripping off her orange top. “I want you inside me. Now.” She reached behind her, releasing the clasp on her bra, letting it fling off her large breasts and down her arms. “What are you doing?” She looked at the screen of his laptop, flipped up her miniskirt, and yanked down her panties.

  “Writing a story about a siren who leaves the sea and works at Amsterdam’s red light district.”

  She sneered and turned on the radio. “Quit wasting your time and do something more productive, like stuffing me with your dick. How many times do I have to tell you? There’s no money in writing.”

  Her comment on his writing only fueled the angry fire that had been threatening to go wild inside him. When he had fallen in love with her, it was because she wanted to help him become the best man she knew he could be. It took some time before he realized her idea of him becoming the best man actually meant becoming the wealthiest man.

  Sue swayed her hips singing, “Call Me Maybe,” along with the radio. She looked delicious.

  He stood and unbuckled his pants. “Why are you so horny?”

  “I just met this incredibly hot guy who made fifty-three thousand dollars today from brokering a four bedroom home in Beverly Hills. Just imagine what you can do with fifty-three thousand dollars. I bet he makes that kind of money every month.” She climbed on her bed onto her hands and knees and reached under to rub herself.

  He got his pants off and positioned himself behind her. By sliding his tip up and down between her folds, he grew harder. The nerves along the underside of his length sparked to life. It was only a matter time before this painting motion against her pussy made him stiff enough to slip inside her. She felt as wet as he expected her to be, considering the way she demanded his rod when she came in.

  She slid backwards further onto him. “Deeper, dammit.”

  He pushed more into her. The sensation of her squeezing around his length made him moan. He started thrusting into her.

  “Deeper.” She slammed her hand on the bed. “Deeper!”

  He grabbed her waist and pounded as hard as he could, letting himself hit further into her with his momentum. His cock tingled all over with delicious jolts firing along its length.

  She clenched her fists into the sheets. “Yes! That’s it!” She squeezed one of her ample breasts. “At least your dick isn’t as worthless as your writing.”

  Though his pleasure intensified, he stopped his thrusts and let it soften. The fire from his groin ran to his head and burned wild. He was done with her. He pulled out of her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “That’s it.” He put his underwear and pants back on. “We’re through.”

  “What?” She sat on the bed looking shocked. “Why?”

  “Listen, Sue. I care about you a lot. But you’ve got a lot to learn about supporting a man’s dreams.”

  She said nothing as he tied his shoelaces. He began packing up his laptop.

  Her eyes welled. “Does this have anything to do with your writing?”

  “It has everything to do with my writing.”

  “I just want to make sure you don’t throw your life away. You could make so much more money as a psychiatrist or therapist. Hell, you can make more money at a McDonald’s.”

  He just shook his head in disbelief. “The chicken’s in the oven. You should have some before it gets cold.” He opened the door to leave.

  “Fine! Get out of here!” Her voice called out at him. “Just know that while you’re living in a cardboard box writing your crappy stories, I’ll be married to a real estate agent eating caviar off his dick!”

  That had been four months ago, but as he pulled into the parking space of the BART station, the pain of the memory lingered.

  ***

  The motor grunted a sigh as Jonathan turned off the engine.
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  Now that he had all the benefits of living the bachelor life again, he also had all the frustrating enigmas that came with it. What is it that women want in a man?

  He remembered running into Sue on the campus lawn a month after breaking up with her. She was with a hulk of a guy.

  “Jonathan!” Sue clung to her new man. “This is Billy. He’s on the football team.”

  Billy looked at her. “Is this the asshole you were telling me about?”

  She blushed. “Billy, be nice.”

  “Shut up, bitch. Let me set him straight.” He turned to him. “Watch and learn, Jonathan.” He grabbed Sue, put his hand up her skirt and tugged down her panties. “Whenever a girl does something wrong, you just need to give her the proper punishment.”

  Sue squealed, giggled, and writhed trying to escape Billy’s grip as he spanked her bare bottom. “Stop, Billy. Stop.”

  The other college students passing by stared. Some of them seemed to consider intervening but didn’t, probably because they decided Sue wasn’t being harmed.

  Jonathan knew Billy was just Sue’s rebound, but she wasn’t the first woman he’d seen dating a jerk. It seemed to be a pattern. So what do women want, he wondered. Someone who will be mean to them? Someone who will humiliate them in public?

  When his Psychology 401 class had a final assignment that required fieldwork, he could think of no better question to answer.

  ***

  The assignment required that each student test a theory of their own. Ever since that Fifty Shades of Grey series became so popular, Jonathan had been trying to understand why some women enjoy being sexually dominated in ways that can be humiliating to them. His theory? All such women allow men to dominate them because they don’t want to feel guilt. He thought these women were brought up feeling guilty about their sexual desires because of their religion or strict parents who said it’s bad to touch “down there.” They want the sexual experience without feeling any guilt. By obeying a dominant man’s commands, they get to have sexual experiences – even at the cost of doing humiliating things – without feeling the guilt. Where else to test this theory of their willingness to be humiliated than in a public place, like at an airport? For his psychology class, testing this theory would satisfy both his assignment and his curiosity.

  He snatched his backpack from the foot of the passenger seat, took out his binder and reviewed his notes.

  Hypothesis: When women allow men to sexually subjugate them, it’s in order to avoid guilt for sexual enjoyment.

  Null Hypothesis: When women allow men to sexually subjugate them, it’s NOT in order to avoid guilt for sexual enjoyment.

  Objective: Assert sexual dominance in a public place

  Dependent variable: Their willingness to submit and resulting feelings of excitement vs. shame.

  Reading the objective got his heart beating faster. Was he really going to go through with this? He pictured his professor reading his conclusion, handing his paper back to him with a dumbfounded expression, as if to say, “What the hell were you thinking?”

  Jonathan told himself, who was he kidding? After four months without sex, maybe this whole exercise was an excuse to get his hands on something soft.

  He exited the car.

  ***

  Approaching the gates to the Ashby BART station, Jonathan saw a hefty station attendant waving away the travelers who were trying to get in.

  The attendant’s voice boomed. “There’s a delay with the trains. Some debris has fallen onto the tracks. It may take a couple of hours before the trains are running again.”

  A pretty blonde with a suitcase trailing behind her spoke with a thick European accent Jonathan couldn’t place. “You are closed?”

  She stood with two other young women with luggage, one of them thin with glasses and a curtain of long brown hair, the other a curvaceous woman straight from Ingres paintings. They looked to be in their twenties.

  The large attendant in his tan uniform waddled a bit closer. “You can come in if you’d like. But you’ll have to wait a few hours before actually getting a train. It might be better to take a cab.”

  The three women turned to each other and talked in their language Jonathan didn’t recognize.

  One of them, the tall one with glasses, noticed him. She smiled as though he had caught the girls sharing a secret, though he was sure they were just working out what to do.

  He stepped up to them. “Are you going to an airport?”

  “Yes.” The lanky beauty with glasses made a gesture with her hand as if to explain. “We were thinking of going in anyway because it is several hours before our flight. Maybe the train will work by then.”

  “But you’re not sure.”

  She nodded and flashed those pretty teeth of hers again.

  “Are you going to the San Francisco airport? Because that’s the one I’m going to, and I have a car. Or if you have enough money, you can take a taxi.”

  The blonde lady turned to the attendant. “How much is a taxi to the airport?”

  “San Francisco? About seventy dollars.”

  The eyes of the girls popped wide. Right away the tall one asked Jonathan, “You’re driving to the airport?”

  He nodded.

  She scowled at his hands. “You don’t have luggage. Are you picking someone up there?”

  “I’m actually going to do a homework assignment there for my psychology class. Taking BART is easier and faster than driving, but not if the trains aren’t running. Anyhow, I’m going there and you’re welcome to hitch a ride.”

  After a quick glance at each other, the three girls agreed and followed him to his car. He mentally groaned. Three beautiful women were about to be in his car and he was driving a Toyota. Not sure why he felt over-conscientious about his car. It wasn’t like he was going to be dating any of them. Flirting was fun, though. And it’s hard to flirt when you’re on the freeway wearing a tin can.

  The girls spoke in that mysterious language of theirs to each other as they followed him to the car.

  “Here it is.” Jonathan unlocked the trunk and heaved their luggage inside. “The doors are open, climb in.”

  There seemed to be some hesitation about who was sitting in front. The blonde nudged the tall one with glasses to the front door. From the tone of their voices, the blonde seemed to be teasing the tall one.

  Jonathan climbed in and held out his backpack to the tall woman in the front passenger seat. “Can you put this at your feet?”

  “Of course.” She set it down gently. The truth was his entire world was in that backpack: his laptop, his wallet, his iPhone. He decided that if she could trust him to bring her to the airport, he could trust her with holding onto all his important belongings.

  As they got onto the freeway, the tall girl said, “You’re a psychology major?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to the airport to do an assignment?”

  Oh boy. “Yes.”

  “What assignment?”

  His ears grew hot. “It’s kind of complicated. Essentially I’m going to test a theory I have.” She got the hint and didn’t ask anymore. “How about you? Where are you from?”

  The curvaceous one in the back said something in their language.

  The tall one translated. “She says for you to guess.”

  “Boy, I don’t know. It’s not Germany, your language doesn’t sound like German. You’re not French. And you weren’t speaking Spanish to each other.” He sifted through his mind all the possible countries. “So the country your from. Does it rhyme with Sportugal?”

  She giggled. “No.”

  “When you say the name of your country, do they think you’re saying, ‘No way?’ ”

  “You’re getting warmer.”

  “How is going from Portugal to Norway warmer?” He scratched his head dramatically. “Do I have any chance of guessing it? Is your country spelled using something I would recognize? Like the alpha-numeric system? Or is it spelled wit
h clicks and screeching whirring sounds like the way a FAX machine sounds over the phone? Click, click. Eeeeeee. Whrrrr.”

  She laughed. “Oh, so. I’ll give you a hint: If I go too far North or West, I’ll have to take off all my clothes and put on a bikini.”

  Jonathan gulped. That image put some spark to his speculation. She did that on purpose. Yum.

  “So?” she prompted him.

  “Sorry. Got distracted. What were we talking about? Ah! I remember. So based on your hint, either your country is next to the water or in order to cross the border into the next country you have to pay with your clothes.”

  All of the girls chuckled.

  The tall one unzipped her jacket. “We’re from The Netherlands.”

  “Really? So you were speaking Dutch?”

  “Yes.”

  “The only Dutch I know is ‘Ik heb du hik.’ ”

  A big smile crossed her face. “I have the hiccups?”

  He loved that smile. “Hey. You never know when that phrase will come in handy.”

  They reached the line of cars approaching the tollbooths. Ms. Curves held out a ten-dollar bill over Jonathan’s shoulder. “Here. For the toll.”

  He brushed her hand away. “I got this. Keep it.”

  She tried again, but couldn’t convince him to take it. As they approached closer to the tollbooth ahead, the line was stopping long enough for him to get the cash.

  He squeezed his foot down on the brake. “Excuse me.” He reached for his backpack at the foot of the tall woman. A thought hit him, and it amused him that his whole world was between this pretty woman’s legs. As he unzipped the bag, he sensed her breathing getting heavier. Was she getting turned on by this? His heart started pounding at the prospect. How long had it been since he felt adrenaline course through him like this?

  When he found his wallet, there was no helping it. He needed to place his hand on her leg to push himself back upright. Seeing her blushing face started a stirring inside of him he wasn’t expecting.