by Jaci J
“I don’t know. Maybe? Was it good?” Lucy’s voice goes gooey. She’s picturing it. “I’ll bet it was good.”
“How would you know? You’ve never met the guy.” Pulling the collar of his tee up to my nose, I inhale his scent.
Lucy scoffs. “Like that matters. You’ve described him, and I’ve seen a picture or two on internet articles. I have a very vivid imagination.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Lucy is a supersleuth, an internet detective. A Facebook stalker extraordinaire. She’s one of the main reasons I date the way I do, because I know if I go missing while out to eat with some guy I met on a dating site, she’ll find me, or at least be able to point the cops in the direction of my dumped body.
“He has a Facebook?” I don’t even know why I care, but I do.
“No. But there were a few articles on the internet, and a couple of them had a picture of him in them.”
For some reason, hearing Niko doesn’t have a Facebook makes me happy. “He doesn’t have any sort of social media?”
“Nope. I mean, Custom has a Facebook and Instagram, but they’re business pages with nothing but posts of tattoos and stuff.” And that makes me feel even better. “Soooo?” Lucy drawls, sounding very much like the nosey asshole she is. “How big is his dick?”
I snort, not surprised in the least that she’d want to know. “Jesus, Lucy.”
“Don’t play coy, ho. You know you’re gonna tell me at some point, so that point might as well be now.”
She’s not wrong. I tell her everything. She’s my best friend.
“Huge.”
Lucy sucks in a sharp breath and lets it out slowly. “Daaang. Like, eight inches?”
Looking at my hand, thinking of his massive cock in it, I shrug, even though she can’t see me. “Maybe nine.”
“Nine! Holy shit, Shay. Can you still walk? Oh, girl, I’ll bet sitting is hard for you today.”
If she could see the look on my face, it’d be one of shock and embarrassment, and maybe a little bit of guilt.
Can I still feel Niko between my legs? Hell yes, I can. There’s an ache, like I got a really good, really deep workout in.
I laugh. “Lord, Luce, what the hell do you think he did to me?”
“Pounded the hell out of you if he did it right.”
I can’t stop laughing, because she’s insane. Certifiable. “It was good.” So good. Better than good. The best I’ve ever had.
“I’m jealous. Wanna know what I did this morning?” I can hear it in her voice, that whatever is about to come out of her mouth, won’t be an outrageous tale of wild monkey sex. “Sat on the couch watching reruns of Friends while eating pasta and listening to my lovely husband saw logs in his recliner a few feet away. That’s what I did.”
“Lucy—” I start, knowing damn well the sex between her and her husband is great— because she likes to tell me—even if it’s not as often as she’d like.
“Don’t “Lucy” me. While you were getting pounded right through the mattress, I was going to bed alone in holy sweatpants and some damn zit cream while my husband rode the recliner.”
Lucy is funny. Hysterical. “Oh my God, you’re so damn dramatic. You’ve got a good life. I get one good pounding in, like, a million years, and you’re losing your mind trying to live vicariously through my vagina.”
Sighing, Lucy laughs softly. “I think I just need a good orgasm or something. I’m losing it. Sorry, friend. I’m happy for you. Jealous, but happy.”
About to open my mouth and say something witty and sweet, I feel someone behind me, a hand wrapping around the back of my neck, fingers grazing my ear. “So you think I’m huge? Nine inches, huh?” Niko muses, his voice rough, with a bit of amusement intertwined as he whispers in my ear.
I yelp, dropping my phone between my legs.
Niko bends down, wearing nothing but a pair of skintight briefs, and grabs it while staring at me. Putting the phone up to his ear, he says, “Hi, Shay’s friend. Shay’s gotta go now. She’ll call you back later.” His voice is full of gritty humor, smooth and devilish.
I can’t hear what Lucy says, but the look and laugh Niko gives me says it was something smart-ass and clever.
Hanging up the phone, he hands it back, smirking. “Afternoon, Shay.”
Thoroughly embarrassed, I can’t look him in the eyes, so I stare at my lap, my face the color of my panties.
He heard every damn thing I said. Everything.
Grabbing my chin, he tips my head back and says, “Afternoon, Shay,” his voice a little deeper, a little rougher, demanding I say something.
“Afternoon.”
Niko
SHE’S FUCKING ADORABLE.
Sitting there in her panties and a shirt she highjacked from my dirty clothes basket, I can’t help the way my cock responds. She’s fuckable on every goddamn level.
Pink cheeks, and her lip worried between her teeth, she’s embarrassed. Embarrassed I caught her ass talking about me and the shit I did to her early this morning. Embarrassed I now know how much she fucking loved it.
“You hungry?” Walking into the kitchen, I open the fridge. There are a few edible things inside: some eggs, milk, cheese, butter, and other random shit. “I can make omelets.”
Looking at her from over my shoulder, I wait for a response. I watch her get up and walk from the window seat toward the kitchen, slowly. She’s not sure how this shit’s going to go. Pulling out a stool and sitting down, she replies, “I like omelets.”
I can work with that.
Pulling out the carton of eggs, I nod. “Omelets it is.”
I don’t usually do this shit, the morning after thing. But for Shay, I’ll bend that fucking rule.
“Can I help?” she asks, watching me crack eggs into a bowl.
“I don’t know. Can you?”
She rolls her eyes at me, something she’s real damn good at, and something I’d like to spank her ass for.
“Fucking smart-ass.” Grabbing a cutting board, a knife, and a pepper, I hand her the stuff. “Get to choppin’ then, baby.”
Shay laughs, saluting me. “Yes, sir.”
She gets to slicing and dicing. “So, are we friends now?” She won’t look at me when she asks, just stares down at the cutting board, looking unsure.
“Why you want to be my friend so damn bad, baby? What the hell does it matter?”
That does it.
Shay’s head shoots up, her eyes narrowed. “We’re not friends. We’re certainly not a couple, but we had sex. So what the hell would you call that?”
“Fun?” I tease, laughing it off.
The look she gives me is deadly. Murderous. “Seriously, Niko?” she growls, pointing the knife in my direction.
Holding up my hands in surrender, I tell her, “We’re friends, Shay.”
Friendship is about all I can fucking offer her.
“You look scared. You should be,” she mutters.
“I am. You’ve got a knife and a bad attitude.”
“A bad attitude?” she shouts, looking back at me, eyes wide and wild.
“Hell yeah. You’re a savage, baby.”
I don’t know how to do this shit. Every woman I’ve been with since my ex was a quick fuck and a handshake. There was none of this morning after bullshit, but with Shay it’s easy – so far. I’m not in a hurry to watch her walk out the door, and I’m even less interested in eating this fucking omelet alone.
“C’mere,” I coo, grabbing for her.
She comes to me, her body falling into mine when I jerk her toward me. “What?” she grumbles, trying to be mad at me.
I kind of like when she’s pissed. Mad looks good on her.
Grabbing her waist, I lift her up and set her on the counter, stepping between her thighs. “We’re friends,” I tell her seriously, meaning it.
I don’t have a fucking clue what friendship looks like with Shay, but I know goddamn well I want to find out.
“Don’t do me any favors.”
“No fucking favors here, baby. Not that kinda man.”
“Yeah, no shit. You’re an asshole.”
“But for some reason you like it.” I try to keep the smirk off my face.
“I do, and I don’t know why.”
“Must be the tattoos and big dick.”
That makes her laugh, her face lighting up before she buries it in my chest. and I can’t help the smile on my mine. “That’s exactly it.”
“Figured.”
“Niko—”
Shay doesn’t get to finish, because someone knocks on my door. “Hold that thought, yeah?”
She smiles. “Okay.”
Walking to my door, I look back at Shay on my kitchen counter, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this fucking happy.
It doesn’t last long, though. It only lasts about as long as it takes me to open my front door and find my ex-wife standing on my doorstep.
16
Shay
I can hear shouting. It’s Niko, and a woman’s voice.
Sliding off the counter, I walk toward the door.
Niko’s standing in his entryway, a beautiful woman in a pink dress in front of him with her hands flying everywhere in his doorway. I slip on my shoes because I know how this shit goes. I’m not new to this sort of thing.
Fucking Niko.
I’m having flashbacks of horrible dates past.
I don’t know who she is or why she’s here, but from what I gather, she’s not happy, and neither am I.
Is she a baby mama? A girlfriend? A fuck buddy? An ex? Whoever she is, I’m not sticking around to find out. There’s not a place on Earth I want to be less than here right now. And to think, only moments ago, I couldn’t imagine not being here.
Stupid Shay.
I’ve been here and done this, and I’m not looking to do it again.
Wearing last night’s dress and yesterday’s makeup, I grab my purse and tiptoe toward them, doing an embarrassing walk of shame. A walk I’ve done a time or two.
“What the fuck, Niko? You took my name off the list?” she shouts, hands in the air and in his face.
Rubbing at his cheek, he grunts, “Goddamn right I did.”
“Why?” she cries, her voice high and shrill.
“Why?” he chuckles. “Don’t ask stupid fucking questions, Mikayla. You know why.”
On my way to the door, I wonder who she is and why she’s here, but I don’t hang around long enough to ask. It’s none of my business anyway. Me and Niko are only friends.
I make it a few feet from them, back against the wall, trying to blend in, when the woman notices me. “Who the fuck are you?” she sneers, giving me a solid once-over, her lip curled in disgust.
“I’m just leavin’,” I answer, slipping behind Niko and into the stairway that leads to the hall between the bar and the shop. Niko doesn’t let me get far, though.
Catching my elbow, he stops me. “Fuck no, baby.” He pulls me back toward him, between his body and the woman. “I’m not done with you.”
The woman snorts.
“Niko.”
“Get back inside, Shay.”
Not a chance in hell of that happening.
“I’ve gotta go. I’ve got shit to do.” I shrug, playing it cool like I don’t care. I care. I care more than I should, more than I wish I did.
He looks me up and down, a challenging look in his eyes. “The fuck you do.”
“I’ll let you do whatever it is you’re doin’,” I tell him, waving a hand between the two of them. “And I’ll talk to you later.”
The woman purses her lips, a hand on her cocked hip. “Thanks.”
Giving her my sweetest smile, I mutter, “Anytime,” before pushing past Niko.
It takes a little work, and a bit of struggle, but he lets me go. He doesn’t look happy about it. In fact, he looks fucking pissed. But he lets me leave, and I’m beyond thankful for that.
“I’M HOME. AGAIN. LIKE always,” I say into my phone, on my porch, looking out at the sliver of oceanfront view I have when Lucy calls me.
She laughs. “I’m home too.” Smart-ass.
“After the best sex of my life, I’m at home, alone, eating cold leftovers out of my fridge.”
“The best sex of your life, huh? That’s a big statement.”
“It’s a true statement,” I sigh. “But he’s a dud.”
“A dud? Why?”
Taking a bite of my cold, shredded chicken taco, I mutter, “Some chick showed up at his door in the middle of breakfast after the best sex ever and started freaking out on him.”
“So?”
“So? Clearly he’s got an ex who’s not quite an ex or something. I don’t know. It was just damn uncomfortable. He didn’t want me to go, and he said as much in front of her. But the vibe was like, whatever was, or is, between them, is recent, and maybe not quite finished yet.”
Lucy hums thoughtfully. “Maybe. Maybe she’s just a friend?”
“Friends don’t argue like they were.”
“Did you ask him about her?”
“No.”
“Ask him.”
“No.”
“Shay, don’t be a stubborn shit. Ask. Him.”
Speaking of...
My phone beeps with another call trying to come through. Pulling my phone away from my ear, I look at the screen. Niko.
I put the phone back to my ear. “He’s calling me.”
“Answer it,” she urges, excitement in her voice. “Put it on three-way. Wait, do iPhones have three-way? Do any phones have three-way anymore?”
Good God. “I don’t know, but I’m not answering it,” I tell her, watching as he hangs up, then tries to call again.
There’s a pain in my stomach seeing his name on my phone screen. A twisting. An ache. A knot.
I want to answer it, but I don’t.
“Why won’t you answer it? Scared he’s actually a good guy and there’s a reasonable explanation for the woman at his door?”
“I’m scared I’m gonna fall head over heels for some cheating, lying asshole. I don’t know him or anything about the girls he’s dated or slept with.”
“They’re not all assholes.”
“Niko’s an asshole.”
“A cheating, lying asshole?”
I don’t know. “I don’t want to find out.”
I’ve had my heart broken, dreams squashed, and confidence kicked too many times to chance it. Especially with Niko. Especially with the way he makes me feel.
Lucy sighs. “Oh, friend.”
“He was a good time, that’s it.”
“What happens when he keeps calling and texting?”
That won’t happen. Niko will stop.
“I don’t pick up or text back.”
“And what happens when he shows up at your door?”
“I don’t answer it.”
She laughs loudly, not believing me. I’m not sure I believe me either.
“Good luck, girl. Let me know how that goes.”
“Not a problem.”
Niko
I’VE NEVER BEEN THIS kind of guy. I don’t send text after text, and I sure the fuck don’t show up at your door, but that’s exactly what I’ve done.
I showed the fuck up at her house, beating on her door, and got nothing. No answer. Not a goddamn thing. I’m not sure what pissed me the fuck of more: the fact that she didn’t answer, or that I didn’t get a chance to explain Mikayla to her. Not that I have to explain shit to Shay, but I wanted to. I felt like I owed it to her after that night, after the shit I said in the bar, and what she let me do to her in my bed. I owed her something.
I know you’re fucking seeing my texts, Shay.
It’s been three goddamn days, and not a fucking word from her. She hasn’t been to the shop or the bar, and she sure as fuck hasn’t bothered answering her phone or text messages.
She’s pushing her fucking luck with me.
You don’t start answering me, I�
��m turning your ass a shade of red not even the devil himself has seen.
Quit playing these stupid fucking games, baby.
I’m losing my shit. The more I text her and the she doesn’t answer, drives me even crazier, and it’s showing up in my crazy ass text messages.
Throwin’ all your paint and shit in the trash for good this time. Figuring you’re done here.
Empty goddamn promises. I’m not throwing shit away.
Get your ass down here.
Shay!
“The fuck’s your problem?” my brother asks, leaning against the ropes of the ring down at the gym. He’s eyeing me, giving me a fucking look.
“Not a fucking thing.”
“You’re glued to your damn phone. Must me somethin’.”
“Nope.” I shove my phone back into my bag and get up from the bench.
I’m more than ready to take this pent-up anger out on someone, and if it can’t be a naked Shay in my bed, then it’ll be some asshole in the ring.
“No tape?” Alek chuckles.
“No fucking tape. That way, when I knock your teeth out, we’ll both feel it.”
“This have anything to do with Shay not being around the shop the last few days?” he asks, wrapping up his left hand. “Gotta tell ya, if she quits halfway through this project because of you, I’m breaking your goddamn nose.”
“She’s not quittin’,” I assure him, stretching out my arms.
“You know that for sure?”
No, I don’t, but I don’t cop to it. Admitting I’m not sure if she’ll be back or not means admitting I’m worried about it. “I don’t know shit.”
Alek frowns. “I hope like hell you didn’t make her run for the hills.”
“Why you fuckin’ assuming it has fuck all to do with me?”
“Because I know you’re into her, and I’ve got a feelin’ she likes your dumb ass too.”
“This is startin’ to feel like a fucking therapy session, Alek.”
He tosses me the tape. “Tape your damn hands. Don’t wanna fuck up your moneymakers more than they already are.”
About to say something back, I hear my phone and hop up out of the ring to get it. Alek laughs. “Yeah, this shit doesn’t have anything to do with Shay.” Sarcastic asshole.