Page 11

Tina

J ust because he smells like perfume and liquor doesn’t mean he slept with someone while he was gone.

I know, I know. The man possibly had sex with a flight attendant he only met minutes before. He’s clearly capable of moving fast. I’m not sure why it annoys me so much that he did it again. It’s not like I want him for myself. I don’t. I just thought we’d spend this time mending fences.

In the bag he dropped on my lap, there’s a burger wrapped in grease-stained paper and big thick fries—golden and sprinkled with salt. I’m halfway through my burger when I notice a second bag. I pick it up, feeling a small box inside. Did he give it to me by mistake? I waffle between peeking or tossing it aside. I know me, and if it’s condoms, I’ll be compelled to count the remaining rubbers to see how many he’s used already.

My resolve lasts two minutes. I open the bag cautiously, like there’s a snake inside ready to strike. But what I pull out isn’t safe sex paraphernalia. It’s allergy medicine. The brand I always take. The kind gesture has me rethinking everything. More often than not, things with Dustin don’t add up.

A call comes through from Gramps and I pause the movie, freezing Daniel Craig in a passionate lip-lock with Lea Seydoux. I set the medicine on the nightstand. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” There’s a clunking noise in the background as he reclines into his favorite chair. “So, how’s the trip so far?”

Oh, just peachy. Dustin barely speaks to me, and when he does his words are filled with sexual innuendos that make my panties damp. Oh, and he hooks up with anyone with a vagina then buys me food and medicine.

Since my goal is to not cut years off my grandpa’s life, I don’t say any of those things. I settle for half-truths. “It’s fine. A little tense.”

“Don’t be too hard on the boy. It’s probably no easier for him than it is for you.” I try not to be offended by the side he’s taken. Gramps has always had a soft spot for Dustin. Honestly, it’s like he has a man crush on him. “What have I always told you?”

I sigh. “Actions speak louder than words.”

I pop a fry in my mouth and chew thoughtfully. They taste even better knowing Dustin went out of his way to get them for me. If being fed was a love language, it’d be mine. I glance at the medicine. I must admit, Dustin might fail at communicating with words, but he’s starting to make up for it with sweet gestures.

“That’s right. Although I suspect the words will come sooner rather than later. Give him time.” I’m about to remind him this is a business trip when he speaks again. “Oh, I meant to tell you earlier, but it must have slipped my mind. Your mechanic friend came and got your car this morning.”

Mechanic friend? Sadly, I have no friends—mechanic or otherwise. Not since my best friend Sinclair moved away for college and never came back. “What mechanic friend?”

“He left a contact number here somewhere.” There’s a rustling sound. “Ah, here it is. He said if you had any questions you could call.” He recites the seven digits, and I quickly type them into my notes app on my phone.

We talk until I hear the shower turn off. “I gotta go, Gramps. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay, dear. Try to worry less about me for a change. Focus on letting loose on this trip and your relationship with Dustin.”

“Friendship,” I correct.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

We end our call just as Dustin emerges from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Shitty attitude or not, the man is beautiful. It’s not the first time I’ve seen his upper body—I should be immune, but something tells me there’s not a vaccine made that can block Dustin’s potency. No matter how many times I see him, I’m riveted, which is why I have a front-row seat when, without warning, he drops the towel and steps into his pajama pants.

I nearly swallow my tongue. Holy shit, did I just see a full frontal of Dustin Case? My heart is knocking so hard, I pray it doesn’t tear loose and drop to my stomach.

“Taking notes?” His question startles me.

I snap my jaw shut and force my eyes to his face, not the smooth ridges of his abs. “Huh?”

He nods towards the TV where the kissing scene is still paused. “The movie. Have you seen this one yet?”

Oh, right, the movie. Get your head straight, woman, and thank your lucky stars he didn’t notice you ogling his penis. I can’t seem to stop shaking my head, like the longer I decline the more convincing I’ll be. But if I keep this up, the only thing I’ll convince him of is that I’m crazy. It seems to amuse him.

An evil grin splits his face, and I just know he’s about to spoil the ending. I point at him. “Don’t you dare.”

Laughing, he makes a show of pile-driving the bed.

Everything happens fast after that. His solid body lands on the mattress with a thud. What’s left of my fries goes flying out of my lap, scattering all over the place. I bounce into the air, my limbs flailing every which way before I land on the mattress with an unladylike oomph .

Wide-eyed and flat on our backs, we stare at each other.

“Whoa,” I whisper, afraid to move a muscle. At least my head stopped moving. “That was clos—”

Before I can finish my sentence, the bed frame makes one final groan of submission before snapping down the middle. The two halves come together, plastering my face into Dustin’s bare chest.

“Are you okay?” He sounds so serious, I can’t help it. I bust up laughing. He sighs. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I laugh harder, tears running down my cheeks, wetting his chest. He curses. “Let me know when you’re done so I can figure out how to get us out of this mess.”

I blow out a breath and watch little bumps pop up on his skin. “Okay. Okay. I’m done.”

“Can you wiggle your arms free at all?”

It’s useless with the way I’m pinned. “Negative.”

“Great. Hold on, let me try something.” He pushes with his body, but all it manages to do is notch us more firmly together.

He’s hard all over. And when I say ‘all over,’ I mean from shoulders to toes, but it’s his erection poking into my stomach that wins my full attention. “How can you be like that right now?” I’m not upset, just curious. I can’t remember Connor ever being hard without some coaxing. I assumed it was the same for every guy. Since Connor’s death, I’ve been too busy taking care of Gramps and working, so this is new territory for me.

“Well, mouse,” he says, sounding exasperated, “let me explain something to you. I’m a man. You’re a woman. My cock is pressed against your warm cunt, and it wants inside. It’s that simple.”

I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but his foul mouth is starting to grow on me. His dirty words flow through my bloodstream like lava, settling hot between my legs. I feel the resulting wetness on my thighs and cringe. He’d love knowing he turned me on like this. The only thing saving me from embarrassment is his body is radiating so much heat, my back and between my breasts also become damp. Basically, I’m like a human Slip ’N Slide, so I can play the arousal off as sweat. Classy.

Who am I right now? This is so unlike me. Maybe it’s the tight space. Does claustrophobia cause brain fog and hallucinations?

Dustin growls. “If you don’t stop wiggling, the situation is going to get a whole lot stickier, if you know what I mean.”

Good Lord, like I wasn’t wet enough before he put this new thought in my mind. I try to focus on more pressing matters, like my uncomfortable shorts situation. “I can’t help it,” I say, admitting the crux of the matter. “My shorts are bunched.” Bunched is putting it mildly. One whole butt cheek is exposed.

He hums. “Are they now?”

To my horror, the barest tickle of his fingers moves around my hip. Puffs of air leave his mouth, bathing me in his minty breath, as he struggles to reach his goal. I stiffen when he works his way beneath the edge of my shorts at my tailbone, the movement making my butt jiggle. I’m not a trim teenager anymore. I’ve been feeding my stress and loneliness, and it’s added a considerable amount of weight to my hips and rear and… well, everywhere. My face is ablaze now that he’s inches from feeling how wet I am. Will he laugh? Be disgusted?

He detours from my shorts to give my cheek a firm squeeze, as if to stop the tremors. “Not gonna lie, mouse. I’m liking these new curves on you.” He kneads the flesh, rocking his hips in a slow grind. “Yeah… liking them a lot. Shame you’ve been hiding them under all those loose clothes you wear.”

My belly turns to mush at his appreciation. This is my new love language—sexy words. Sign me up.

He hums thoughtfully while tracing the fabric in my crack from bottom to top. “You’ve got quite a wedgie going on here.” He seems to come to a decision that pleases him. I can hear it in his voice. “Maybe we can strike a deal.” He lowers his finger an inch, pulling the shorts with it, stopping just shy of relief.

The cat’s out of the bag now. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed how hot he’s making me. I might as well see what he’s got up his sleeve. “What kind of deal?”

“On a scale of one to ten, ten giving me access to your tight hole, how badly do you want your ass to stop eating your shorts?”

Tight hole? He must be joking. Jesus, how much mouthwash did he swallow while in the bathroom? “Just pull it out already.”

His chuckle reminds me of teenage Dustin. “That’s what she said.”

Despite myself, I smile too. It’s good to see a glimmer of the boy I knew. Only now, he’s got the whole sexy man thing going on top of it. It’s a dangerous combination. As entertaining as his comedy routine is, it’s not enough to distract me from how his index finger is circling the tight nerves of my back hole. The touch feels so foreign. Sinful and oh so right at the same time. Instinctively, I jerk my hips forward, even though a part of me wants to see how far he’ll go.

“What’ll it be, mouse?” He starts tapping my hole like a ticking timer while humming the theme song from Jeopardy! .

If we do this, where do we go from here? Polite conversations like “nice weather we’re having” and “how have you been” just seem too normal after someone has touched you so intimately. For the rest of my life, every time I look at his fingers, I’ll be imagining it.

But darn it, I want it.

Decision made, I say the one word I think surprises us both. “Ten.”