by Jamie Howard
With my shoes picked out, the dress was easy. I went with a heather gray sweater dress, a thick cowl neck folded down just so. The suede boots hugged my calves as I zipped them up, up and over my knee. According to an online poll, my legs were my number one asset, and I had to say, these boots really showed them off.
And hey, I could use some sex boots mojo in my life right about now.
Chapter 10: Felix
I was supposed to be taking out the garbage—I’d tied off the plastic bag and it sat on the hardwood floor—but instead of hauling it along down to the trash chute, I just stared at it. Sat there and freaking stared at absolutely nothing.
The baked macaroni and cheese was in the oven, I’d grabbed a six-pack of Juliet’s favorite beer, and I had Gavin cleaning the bathroom. Everything was going exactly to plan . . . except for the part where I was freaking the fuck out.
I’d never been this nervous about a date since, well, never. Dating had never been high on my list of priorities. In fact, my longest relationship was two long, long months. It’s not that I had anything against settling down with someone, but I’d never met anyone who made me want to stick around. And after spending a good deal of time around Ian and Maggie, my bandmate’s first wife, I knew with a resounding certainty I’d never even been in love. Lust, yes. But never love.
I sure as hell wasn’t in love with Juliet, but she made me feel things that made me wonder if she might possibly be the person I fell for. Someday. Eventually. And just that tiny pinprick of a thought left me drowning in anxiety.
Before the accident, I was one of the horniest motherfuckers on the planet. If seventy-two hours passed without me getting laid, it was a long time. That was even before the band was sitting pretty at the top of the charts. After, there was an endless supply of women. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. Life was a party and Gavin and I? We played hard.
Then everything changed.
I woke up in that hospital room—machines bleeping, the sun harassing me through the window—and my whole world turned upside down. There was shock and denial, a healthy dose of rage thrown in as well. I was so furious that someone had to teach me how to put on my pants, my goddamn pants, that I didn’t give a second thought for my dick.
Not until my doctor sat me down for “the talk.” The you should probably be able to, but you may not, you’ll just have to see how it goes speech. Why thank you, asshole, for that wonderful insight.
After that, it was all I could think about. It was one of those nasty thoughts that took root in my brain and wouldn’t go away—what if I’d lost that too? It ate at me, gnawed through my stomach and infected my nightmares, until I couldn’t take it anymore.
It took the majority of a week for me to finally shove my hand down my pants. Even then, my heart was racing so hard it was like I was in the midst of completing a triathlon. I cued up one of my favorite clips of this busty blond getting nailed from behind and before my nerves could even overreact, I felt myself stiffen.
No lie, I almost fucking cried.
My fingers were trembling when I took the situation in hand and things were going pretty well until the big brain upstairs decided to stop in and say hello. The guy on the screen was on his knees, thrusting for all he was worth, when it suddenly occurred to me that would never be me again. Ever. No more wall-banging, no hot-as-hell doggy style. Hell, the odds of me getting laid at all were slim to none. Who was going to want me now?
I glared down at my fingers where they were wrapped tightly around my shaft, and my stomach bottomed out. This was what my future looked like—a very intimate relationship with my right hand. The thought was like a pin in a balloon, resulting in an immediate deflation.
That was the one and only time I’d tried to tug one out. I figured if my legs were going to shrivel up, my dick might as well join the party. Why the hell not? Maybe it was short-sighted of me, but back then I couldn’t imagine a day like today. A day where I was making dinner for a beautiful girl who made me smile.
Right now I was definitely regretting not putting more time into some experimentation. The truth was: I still wasn’t entirely sure whether I’d lost my stiffy because my brain murdered the mood or if it was something much more fundamental. Something entirely out of my control.
I wasn’t going into tonight with too many expectations, but the possibility that something could happen was slowly eating away at my sanity. Shit, if something happened and I couldn’t—I pressed my fist to my lips, trying to calm my rioting stomach.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gavin glared at me, one rubber-gloved hand slapping against his thigh. He dropped a bucket full of cleaning supplies on the floor and used the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his glistening forehead. “I just got down on my goddamn hands and knees to clean the bathroom and you can’t even take the garbage out. I’m sorry, did your arms stop working too?”
I tried to fight back a smile but it shoved its way onto my face anyway. “Where did you get those gloves?” A strangled laugh slipped through my lips. “You needed those to clean the bathroom?”
He ripped off the yellow monstrosities and crammed them into the bucket at his feet. “I just cleaned the place where you shit, so yeah I wore gloves.” He stalked by me, mumbling under his breath. My ears picked up the words ungrateful bastard before he disappeared into his room.
He was back a minute later in a fresh T-shirt and jacket, a dark hat pulled over his sweaty hair. “I’m gonna head over to Ben’s and take a shower. I’ll be back later. You good here?”
I glanced around the apartment even though I knew everything was fine. “I’m cool.”
He fingered the black cord of his necklace, running his finger over it. “If you need anything—”
“I won’t. Seriously, I’m fine.” I flapped a hand at him. “Get out of here.”
“All right, see you later, man.” He closed the door and then pushed it back open a few inches to stick his head through. He grinned at me. “Good luck.”
After he left, I double-checked on the mac ’n’ cheese. The panko crumbs were toasting to a nice golden brown just like they were supposed to. Thank God. The first two times I’d tried to make it had been a disaster. The first was just a burnt nightmare; the second was two steps beyond soggy. If Gavin wasn’t a garbage disposal for food, they would have been destined for the trash.
As it was, he’d threatened to shave my head if I made this particular dish one more time in the next year.
A knock sounded through the apartment at two minutes to seven. I took a second to wipe my sweaty palms on my pants before opening the door.
The word almost got caught in my throat as I looked up at Juliet. “Hey.”
“Hey back.” She bent at the waist to drop a kiss on my cheek, then walked right past me, shedding her coat. “Mmmm, that smells amazing.”
Her heels clicked, clicked across the wood floor and my eyes took the slow tour from her toes all the way up to where her soft dress brushed the middle of her thighs. Jesus. She was nothing but long, golden legs.
“I see you like the boots.” She smirked at me.
“Like? No. I love those boots.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Chapter 11: Juliet
I moaned around my fork as the cheesiest, most decadent macaroni and cheese I’d ever tasted assaulted my taste buds. It was so worth the extra workout I was going to have to do tomorrow. “Oh my God. This is amazing.” I licked my lips. “Are you secretly a chef in addition to being a rock star?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, no.” A slight shade of pink infused the tips of his ears. “I’m actually a pretty terrible cook. This is my mom’s recipe. I had to call her to get it.”
The way he said it made my spidey senses tingle. “Are you not close with her?”
“My mom?” He twirled his fork between his long fingers. “We used to be closer, but she had a really hard time with . . .” He gestured down at his legs and sighed. “After it h
appened, I went home for a while, went to rehab. I thought it would be good to be around family. And it was, but”—he shook his head—“every time she looked at me, it was like I wasn’t there. I think she had just as hard a time processing everything as I did. She always looked so sad, which made me feel even worse.”
“So you left?”
He nodded. “Came back here, told Gavin I’d move out if he wanted me to. Didn’t want him to get stuck with me if he didn’t want to. He told me I needed to pull my head out of my ass.” A smile snuck across his face. “He’d actually thrown some money around to make the apartment more accessible for me—fixed up the bathroom, lowered the counters, things like that. I tried to pay him back, but he refused. I’m not sure what I’d do without that guy.”
“He sounds like a great friend.” I hesitated. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him what happened. I was curious as hell, but didn’t want to push him. Didn’t want to make him tell me things he wasn’t ready to.
“You can ask if you want to,” he said, the words barely loud enough to be heard.
My hand snuck across the table and I wrapped my fingers around his. “You don’t have to tell me.”
He squeezed my hand. “It’s all right.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “Gavin and I were at a party, some old friend of his. I don’t really remember who it was. Someplace upstate. We were just killing time since the band was taking a timeout while Ian got his shit together.” His eyes drifted closed, and when they opened again he looked like he was miles and miles away. “There was this deck upstairs, big, packed with people. I was having a beer, talking to a girl when this guy came up behind me and started talking shit. It wasn’t that odd, I’m a big dude and everyone was always trying to pick fights with me. I never let it bother me, but this guy? The things he was saying about Ian, Maggie, me. I couldn’t.”
His free hand rubbed absently against his thigh. “I threw the first punch. I shouldn’t have, I knew better, but right then I’d have done anything to wipe the smirk off his pretty face. Everything was going fine until he rushed at me. We crashed into the railing, and it just gave out.” His eyes narrowed. “I remember the wood splintering, his fingers twisting in my shirt, the feeling of falling and then . . . nothing. Nothing until I woke up in the hospital.”
My fingers were freezing, like five tiny icicles, and my stomach felt like someone was trying to turn it inside out. Holy shit. I was a master at schooling my expressions, but I let him see everything I was feeling—my heart was breaking for him. “It’s probably a good thing you don’t remember.”
A smile whispered across his face. “It’s one of the few things I’m grateful for about that night.” He glanced down at his plate and chuckled. “The other is the fact that this whole thing flew under the radar. I still don’t have a clue how the press completely missed it. Maybe it’s ’cause we were out in the middle of nowhere, or because that little fucker was afraid I’d sue him for what happened. Whatever the reason, it’s been nice just to have some time to . . . deal.” He sighed. “Well, if that wasn’t the most depressing beginning to a date.”
I grimaced. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, you should have.” The calluses on his fingers scraped against my hand as he gave it another squeeze. “If we’re actually going to try this, you should know.”
This was the part where I should reciprocate. Tell him about Elle and the reason I got into acting in the first place. She was a huge part of my life, but one I fiercely protected from the public. It’s not that I didn’t trust him, instinctively I knew he’d guard my secret as closely as he did his, but there were only so many mood-killers a first date could survive.
I picked up my beer bottle and swirled it. “So, we’re trying something?”
There was a momentary flash of uncertainty in his eyes before it disappeared entirely. “Yeah we are. And not just tonight. There’ll be other dates.” A cocky grin set up camp on his face, and the sight of it was like a shot of pure giddiness in my veins.
I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t it bad form to make that kind of assumption when we haven’t even finished this date?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes when you know, you just know.”
Felix had a thing for my legs. Every time I moved, crossed one leg over the other, his gaze would drift to that small expanse between the tops of my boots and the hem of my dress.
As we sat on the couch, his thumb traced out small circles on that exact piece of skin. I’m not sure how I was supposed to concentrate on anything, let alone whatever movie he’d put on, when we moved the party over here. It was my business to know things about movies, but all I could tell you about this one was that there was a guy and girl and a boat. Or a train. Maybe it was actually an RV. Hell, I really didn’t know.
Every ounce of my concentration was trained on that one finger. Every nerve heightened in that one spot. I clenched my thighs a little tighter together.
“Hey, Jules,” Felix said distractedly. “You got anything going on Monday?”
“Uh, Monday . . .” My gaze stayed pinned to the hypnotic swirl of his thumb. “Nope.”
I could’ve had lunch plans with the Queen and at that moment I wouldn’t have remembered.
“The guys and I are practicing at The Blackbird. It’ll be our first time getting back at it not in the studio. You wanna come?”
You wanna come?
I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about his band. I licked my lips. “Felix.”
“Yeah?” His eyes dropped down to mine and he froze. And finally, finally, his hand went still. Not that it mattered. My skin was still tingling, the phantom movement of his thumb still ghosting across my thigh.
I shifted, stretching up so I could seal my lips over the spot right underneath his jaw. He sucked in a breath as my tongue tasted his skin.
His whole body vibrated with suppressed laughter. “Does that mean you’ll stop by?”
I nipped him, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his throat until I met that sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. He wasn’t laughing anymore as I said, “Count on it.”
Strong fingers wrapped around the back of my neck as he roughly redirected my mouth to his. His lips crashed into mine in a kiss so full of hunger and heat it felt like my skin was on fire. I moaned and he swallowed it right up, greedily thrusting his tongue into my mouth.
With a hand under my leg, he tugged me across his lap so my knees bit into the couch on either side of his hips. The change in angle left me higher than him and he had to tip his head back to meet my lips. I planted my hands against his chest, sweeping my fingers over the strong muscles.
And holy crap was he built. As his fingertips slowly inched across my back, down to cup my ass, I slipped my hands under his shirt and raked my fingernails over the hard ridges of his stomach.
“Shit,” he hissed, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling gently. His hot mouth pressed against the length of my throat, sucking and biting his way down to my collarbone. He yanked the thick neck of my sweater dress to the side so he could continue his blistering assault all the way over to my shoulder.
I could feel the hard ridge of him beneath me and I squirmed in his lap until it lined up against me, right where it mattered. His teeth scraped against skin, biting harder when I rocked against him, rolling my hips as a wave of pure bliss spiraled through me.
“Fuck.” He let out a shuddering breath and went completely still, his forehead dropping against mine. His heart thrummed out a desperate rhythm beneath my palm as his eyelashes swept down to caress his cheeks.
His eyes met mine, swimming with awe, as he tightened his grip on my hips and ground our bodies together. A strangled groan spilled through his lips. “So good.”
A contented hum vibrated through me as I cupped his cheek and drew his lips back to mine. His big hands held my face still as he changed things up on me, coaxing my lips apart with a gentleness that made my bones feel like they were melting.
The ache between my thighs was driving me mad. “More.”
A husky growl rumbled through him, his hands finding their way back to my hips and pressing me down harder. My dress climbed up my legs as I kept up that delicious friction between us, the throbbing at my center climbing higher with every second.
He gripped my chin between his fingers, tilting it down. “Look at me.” His gaze burned into mine, pupils blown. “I want to see the look in your eyes when you come.”
And that’s exactly what I did—noses brushing, lips resting against each other, eyes locked together—I let him watch as I unraveled, as that tight knot of pleasure unfurled into a crashing wave of delicious sensations that made my toes curl and the edges of my vision go hazy.
His eyelids dropped to half-mast, fingers biting into my ass, as I kept grinding against him. Breath coming in short, hot pants, his entire body started to tremble and he gasped, the sound of it skating across my lips. “Oh fuck.”
We were both breathing hard, our hearts thumping in time with each other, when we finally recovered a minute later. Our gazes were still welded together, neither one of us making the first move to look away. There was something incredibly . . . personal about letting someone watch me when I was that vulnerable, letting him see the unguarded emotions that paraded across my face. We hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing, but it was still one of the most undeniably intimate experiences I’d ever had.
Felix ran his tongue out over his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I can’t believe you just made me come in my pants.”
I tried to hide my smile behind my hand, but he pulled it away, threading his fingers through mine instead. My words were soaked in smiles when I said, “If it helps, I came in mine too.”
He shook his head. “You’re not even wearing any pants.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I haven’t—” His eyes swept shut, and when they opened again there was a starkness there. A desolation that made my throat close up. “I wasn’t sure that’d ever happen for me again.”