“Dirty, sexy words?”
“Yes.”
“What words?”
I glance around. The silence in the store is deafening. The pounding of my blood is intense. When I’ve gone sex toy shopping with my friends, I felt like a naughty schoolgirl, giggling and making jokes. Now, with a sexy man as my companion, I feel naughty in a whole new way.
A sexier way.
A seductive way.
It’s like he’s seducing me—unintentionally, I’m sure—with his dirty talk, but when he’s this close, uttering those words and smelling so masculine, so damn strong, I nearly groan out loud.
Still, I don’t want to go too far in the store. Some things are too private.
“You don’t want to say it here?”
I shake my head.
“I get that. I don’t want you to move beyond your comfort zone right now. But I have an idea. And it’ll help you with your exploration.”
“What is it?”
“Let’s get you a new rabbit. Something that goes deep, how you like it. Something that makes you feel like you’re being fucked by a man who wants you, and a man who knows how to please you.”
God, I think I might come from his words. That’s what I want. That’s what I need. I pick up a rabbit with more speeds than I’ve ever used. “This one.”
“I’ll buy it, then you report back to me.”
I flinch, surprised at his directions. “Do you want me to text you?”
“It’ll help you with your dirty talking. Try the rabbit, and then tell me how you felt.”
“Let you know what I say when I’m alone?” The fire roars, burning bright inside me.
“Isn’t that what you want? To be able to say those things in the heat of the moment?”
Desperately.
“Yes.”
“This is the first step.”
And I’m going to take it.
22
Arden
That night when I’m alone, I’m ready, so ready. I don’t even need a dirty book or a Tumblr feed.
I’m aching and swollen between my legs, and when I lie down on my bed and slide my hand inside my panties, I’m slick. From spending the whole damn day with Gabe. I turn on the vibrator, and I know it won’t take long at all.
Pleasure spirals in me, and I moan, and I fantasize. I imagine I’m saying all sorts of things to a lover.
A few minutes later, I’m coming, and it feels glorious.
But I want more. I want so much more . . .
Out of nowhere, or perhaps out of today, Gabe’s face flickers before me, his lips, his smile.
For a moment, I try to resist. But my body is beyond fighting.
With those images, I go again, warring with my brain.
I try to shove away thoughts of him.
He’s a friend, only a friend.
But I’m seeing him take off his shirt, revealing his chest, then dipping his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and shucking them off.
Holy fuck.
I just undressed my best friend for the first time, and God, he looks beautiful naked.
He looks even better when he climbs on the bed and buries his face between my legs, devouring me. I pretend he’s here, and I’m telling him exactly what I want.
I come harder and longer.
When I turn off the rabbit, waves of pleasure still radiate through my legs like electric pulses. They crest over me, a true high, as I grab my phone and text him.
* * *
Arden: Hi . . . I did homework.
* * *
Gabe: I can’t wait for your book report.
* * *
My thumbs hover over the keys. Am I doing this? Am I going to tell him what comes out of my mouth?
I think of the book club ladies and their boldness. Of Madeline and her confidence on the job.
This is what it means to be a woman today—to own your choices.
I’m confident with my friends.
I’m good at my job.
And I want a rich and layered sex life.
Here goes.
23
Arden
I send a naughty text.
* * *
Arden: The rabbit worked . . . I used it twice.
* * *
Gabe: Excellent . . . glad to hear my hopping friend made you happy.
* * *
Arden: I was loud.
* * *
Gabe: Loud is so very good.
* * *
Arden: I said all sorts of things . . .
* * *
Gabe: Want to tell me?
* * *
God, I do. More than I thought I would. But if I’m going to woman up, I need to woman all the way up. I slide my finger over his contact info and hit his name.
He answers immediately. “Does this mean I get an oral report?”
He makes me laugh. He always makes me laugh. And maybe his laughter is the lubricant I need. “I want to practice. To say out loud to you all the things I think when I get off.”
“Say them to me.” His voice is husky, commanding.
I close my eyes, hearing the echo of my own words. “Fuck me.”
He murmurs, “That’s a great one.”
“Spread my legs. Oh God, spread them wider.” My breath stutters.
“Fuck. Yes.”
I’m on a roll, words falling free, tumbling from my mouth. “Get your face between my thighs.”
A rumble. “That’s . . . holy . . . fucking . . . hot.”
I don’t stop. I don’t want to stop. I say all the dirty words to him that I imagine saying to a lover. “I want to fuck your face. Please let me fuck your face.”
“Jesus Christ.” His groan is deep and carnal.
“Faster. Harder. Yes, like that. Oh God, just like that.”
I’m not even touching myself. I’m not getting off. I’m simply speaking, but something rattles loose in me. I’m finally saying these words out loud, not in my head, and it’s astonishing. A new aftershock of pleasure rushes over me as I let my fantasies have a voice, giving them sound and volume. “I want to come on your face.”
He’s silent. Dead silent, and I fear I’ve crossed a line.
“Gabe. Are you okay?”
“I’m. Great.” His voice is sandpaper. “All that stuff you said—is that what you say in your head when you’re touching yourself?”
“Yes. Is that weird? Is it too much?”
He lets out a long exhale. “That is the sexiest thing any woman anywhere has ever said.”
A smile spreads of its own accord, and my skin feels as if it’s glowing. “It is?”
“It so fucking is, and you need to be able to say all that when you’re actually having sex.”
“You really think I should say those things with someone else?”
“I guarantee that if you do, you will drive any man out of his mind with pleasure.”
Right now, I want that man to be him.
24
Arden
The next morning as I stroll through the town square on the way to work, I feel like everyone’s eyes are on me. Like they can see through me, an X-ray woman revealing all her risqué thoughts to the world on black-and-white film.
But no one stares, since all these wild, wonderful images are flicking by in my brain, only for me—images and sounds and memories of the things I said to Gabe, and that he said to me.
It was only the start of our sex education plan, and yet last night was not an experience that I can easily let go of. Nor do I want to. I feel alive and electric, like I’m living in a fevered dream.
Anticipation camps out in my chest as I near the firehouse. My heart ticks faster, and my wish to see him—to wave, to say hello—grows more intense.
But at the same time, I’m not sure how I should behave.
Everything feels a little different between us, even though we didn’t cross any lines.
We didn’t touch. We simply said racy words. But in saying
them, I revealed myself. I showed him my wants, and now he knows some of my deepest desires.
I’m not only Arden, his Words with Friends pal and bowling buddy. I’m a woman who has after-dark wishes.
I know more of him too. I know how he approaches sex and women and experimentation.
It’s like we’re walking the tightrope of friendship, balancing precariously and tipping ever closer to the edge.
But as I pass the firehouse, my heart sinks. The truck is gone, and its absence reveals to me how badly I wanted to see him. I let out a long exhale that’s tinged with more disappointment than I expected. Plus, he has a twenty-four-hour shift today, so there won’t be any experiments tonight. But we’re seeing each other tomorrow, and I’m debating whether I want to practice biting, spanking, or stripping, or if we can work in that elevator arms-in-the-air agenda item.
Later in the day, my phone pings with a text.
* * *
Gabe: Hey! Wild Care says Hedwig is recuperating nicely.
* * *
I punch the air in triumph. His note makes me happy in a whole new way. For the owl and also, I’m realizing, for us. Because we’re normal. We can be owl-rescuers, and bowling buddies, and pizza friends, and coach and sex-thlete, and just . . . well, friends.
Good friends.
* * *
Arden: Yay! Also, you checked on Hedwig? I love that.
* * *
Gabe: Of course. I wanted an update, and I knew you’d want to know as well. So I checked on our owl.
* * *
Arden: Can I still adopt him? There’s a high shelf in my store that I know he’d love.
* * *
Gabe: I’m sure Henry and Clare would LOVE his company.
* * *
Arden: Admit it. A bookstore owl would be so cool.
* * *
Gabe: Yes, it would be. But Hedwig belongs in the wild. Speaking of shelves, how’s that one that you were worried was a little loose? Need me to take a look at it?
* * *
My heart beats a little faster from his offer, his willingness to help me. I head over to the shelf in question, rapping on it.
* * *
Arden: I checked it. All good!
* * *
Gabe: You know where to find me if you need anything.
* * *
Arden: Same to you. :)
* * *
This man does so much for me, and I only wish I could do something special for him. That afternoon, as I help a customer find an old Dashiell Hammett novel, I know precisely what that is.
25
Gabe
“And that’s some of what we do in an average day. Now, I’m wondering”—I tap my chin, surveying the eager crowd—“is there any chance any of you have any questions? I know it’d be pretty unusual for a first-grader to have questions. But you all should feel free to hit me up if you do.”
A dozen little hands shoot in the air, and there’s laughter from the grown-ups too. I spend the next twenty minutes answering questions here at the fire station. Most of the questions—surprise, surprise—involve the truck and the truck. Also, the truck.
When the questions ebb, I drop plastic fireman hats on the kids’ heads and thank them for coming. The camp counselor also thanks me.
As the kids wander down the street back to the community center, Shaw emerges from the firehouse, gesturing to the troop. “Over-under on how many you scared away from the fire service on account of being so ugly?”
I screw up the corner of my lips as if I’m considering his question. “Hmm . . . I’d say at least a half dozen. But that still makes you the leader, since you scare them all off when you give the demos.”
He runs a hand over his jaw. “Please. I’m like the goddamn superhero of every little aspiring firefighter in the country. They all want to be me when they grow up.”
I park my hands on my hips. “Is that so? Do the kids have a secret shrine to you somewhere at their school?”
“Of course they do.” He narrows his eyes. “So do the teachers, right in the teachers’ lounge. They all have pictures of me from the fireman calendar on every wall.”
“In your dreams.”
“Why do you think they’re all asking me to do demos? They love me and my scar.”
I crack up. “You have such a rich fantasy life.”
He grabs the hem of his shirt and shakes his hips, pretending to dance. “You’re just jealous, Harrison. Admit it. I’ve got it going on.” Lifting the shirt, he drags a hand over the faded scar that cuts across his hip, the mark that he definitely doesn’t show at demos to kids here or in schools.
“Because you moonlight as a stripping fireman?”
Even though he does nothing of the sort, he mimes tossing out dollar bills. “I make it rain. Look at my hips. They don’t lie.” He shakes them as if he’s a master dancer.
“What the hell do you actually do in your spare time?”
He pretends to zip his lips.
I shake my head. “Buddy, I am so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“That you suffer from so many delusions.”
He laughs, then his expression turns serious, his zany side slinking away. “Hey, did you hear about Charlie?”
“Yeah. I’m going to miss him.” Charlie is moving back to Florida.
“Says he can’t afford living here anymore. That’s the tough part of being in California. This place is crazy expensive.”
“It sure as hell is.” I point from him to me. “And we are so damn lucky that we can do what we do, and not have to worry about where every cent is coming from or going to.”
“That’s the truth.” Shaw is some kind of wizard financially and set himself up with several well-timed stock trades over the years so he wouldn’t have to make tough choices and he wouldn’t have to leave his hometown. He made enough wise investments that he was able to pursue this career and live in a town with ridiculous home prices at the same time. “I don’t know that I can live someplace else. I love my sister, and I love my family too much.”
I admire that about Shaw—he’s a family man. But when he mentions his sister, I don’t think of Perri. I think of another person, one who’s close with Perri.
Arden.
The woman I can’t stop thinking about.
The woman who’s uncovering a brazen new confidence about her wants and wishes.
She’s speaking her mind, voicing her desires, and it’s hot as hell.
And while I don’t have any secret wants or wishes to share with the guys, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea, either, to let the boys at work know I give a shit about them. I spend much of my time messing with them, as they do with me. But moments like this matter too. The honest ones. Because the fact is, I depend on them every day. I rely on Shaw to have my back, and he does the same with me.
“Hey, Shaw?”
He gives a quizzical lift of his brow. “Yeah?”
“You’re a good guy. I’m glad we’re on the same team.”
He shoots me a you have to be kidding me look. “Have you gone all soft and fuzzy inside?”
I decide to own it. “Yeah, I have in this second. I’m going to miss Charlie when he leaves. Practically felt like he worked right here with us.”
“He pretty much did.”
“And you know what? I’d miss you if you left too, so I’d really like it if you’d stick around.”
He smiles, and it’s a genuine one. “You’re stuck with me, Harrison. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Let’s keep it that way. Let’s keep doing this—looking out for each other.”
He offers a fist for knocking. “Sounds like a deal.”
Shoes click behind me, and Shaw turns toward the sound then wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I believe you have a visitor.”
I spin around, and I try to hide the smile, but it’s no use. I can’t help but grin when I see Arden. Lovely and gorgeous, bright and brainy Arden walking my way.
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“Jesus Christ, Casanova. Just ask her out once and for all,” Shaw says in a low voice.
“All in due time.” And I will. As soon as we’re done with her experiment. Which means the time will be sooner rather than later.
When she reaches us, she says hi to both Shaw and me, and I do my damnedest to rein in a ridiculous grin because, hell, am I ever happy to see her.
26
Gabe
Shaw tips his chin at the woman in front of us. “Hey, Arden. Gabe and I had a little bonding session. Did you know he’s all soft and sweet inside?”
Arden smiles. “Is that so?”
Shaw punches my stomach. “He’s a total teddy bear. He was telling me that I’m his best friend.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re such a dick. I’ll go back to telling you that you’re a dick. Now get out of here, you dick.”
“Nope. I’m not a dick. You love me. You fucking love me.”
“I love it when you leave. See you, man.”
He salutes us. “I’ll let you two lovebirds catch up.”
Arden raises an eyebrow as he heads back into the station. “Why did he say ‘lovebirds’?”
Best Laid Plans Page 11