A Slippery Slope

by Tanya Gallagher

  “Natalie?”

  I look around, confused. The person calling my name isn’t Jackson, but it’s a familiar voice. “Matthew?” There he is, jaywalking across the street to make his way to me.

  I freeze for a second before I straighten my shoulders to meet him. Because yep, yep, I am standing in broad daylight outside a sex shop with my purse full of business cards and my arms full of goodies and a smile on my face that’s unreal.

  This is my life. My wild and hilarious life. And looking at Matthew now, I’m reminded of just how much more fun I’m having than I was before.

  “Matthew, hi.” He’s wearing a god-awful tie I always hated, but he still looks like the man I lived with—the comfortable smile lines around his mouth, his square, handsome jaw. I suck in a deep breath, but the rolling tide of loss washing over me isn’t about him at all. I miss Boston, yes. But Matthew’s absence doesn’t hurt the way I expected.

  Matthew shoves his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunched. “What are you doing here?”

  I could answer a hundred ways that would dance around the truth—I’m waiting for a friend, I just got caught here in the rain—but Delilah Overbrook doesn’t give a fuck.

  “I own a personal lubricant company.” His face goes red and I smile.

  “Did I hear you correctly?” he sputters. God, he never would have been right for me. Matthew always like the idea of having an artistic girlfriend, but I don’t think he ever fully accepted the reality of it, of me. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like Aphrodite’s Closet while I just had one of my proudest moments ever in there.

  “You did hear right.” I broaden my smile. I’m not the Natalie who ran away from Boston, and I don’t want to be her anymore. The new me is way, way more fun to hang out with. She’s closer to the person I want to be. “Our launch party is here in a few weeks. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like.” I know full well he’ll never show.

  Jackson pulls around the corner just then, the little Mini Cooper double parked in traffic to wait for me. I know my cue when I see it.

  “There’s my ride,” I tell Matthew. “But look up Penchant Products in a few weeks. You’re not going to find a better silicone lube out there.” Then I smile and can’t resist going for the kill. “Maybe you can use it with Wendy.” I shrug casually and stroll toward the car. “Or maybe not.” Then I walk right past Matthew’s shocked face and get into the car. When I close the door I plant a kiss on Jackson so hot the windows steam.

  “What do you say,” I ask Jackson as we pull away from the curb, “about finally giving our lube a try when we get home?”

  “For science?”

  I nod in confirmation. “For science.” It’s possibly, probably, something like that.

  Chapter 37

  At my front door Jackson presses a kiss against my neck while I turn the key in the lock. “Can I come in?” Of course the answer is yes. Before I can even close the door behind us, I am kissing him and he’s kissing me. It’s one of those kisses that is its own living thing—not really mine or his, but ours. Something we’re making together. And it tastes like confectioner’s sugar and hope.

  Jackson pulls back to grin at me. “Remember the day we agreed to partner up?” I nod. “That was a very good idea.”

  I’ll give him that one. I smile against his mouth. “You’re full of good ideas.”

  “I’m not going to argue with that.” Jackson buries his hands in my hair and tugs ever so slightly so my chin tilts up and I’m looking him square in the eye. “Did I tell you how hot it was watching you book that business?” He backs me up until I’m pressed against the door. My body flushes with pride and with the heat of him against me.

  “Tell me again.”

  Jackson’s hands land on my hips, reaching around to pull me close to him. “Very hot.” He reaches down farther, running his hands over my bare legs and lifting the hem of my dress higher and higher till I’m standing there, half-naked, waiting for him. “You should wear dresses more often,” he growls in my ear. All I can do is whimper because he’s sliding my underwear down my legs in the dark guesthouse, my body bowing toward his.

  My breath hitches in my throat as Jackson traces his fingers up my thighs. Suddenly his fingers freeze.

  “What’s wrong?” I look at him for an explanation.

  “I want you to read that marketing text to me.”

  He chooses now to get serious about working? There’s no way. “I haven’t written it yet,” I protest. I wiggle my body, hoping to entice him. Touch me again.

  Jackson’s eyes lock on mine, scorching and sure. “Tell me anyway.”

  Oh. My mind flashes to the lube that’s never been used, the package full of potential. Do I play the game?

  I bite my bottom lip before grinning. “Challenge accepted, sir.”

  “Good.” Jackson strides across the room and arranges his lean, toned body on the couch.

  I steady myself with a deep breath before pushing away from the door. It’s one thing to write the words, to imagine them in my head. It’s another to say them out loud to him.

  I walk to the kitchen and glance at Jackson. Then I clear my throat before I begin. “Imagine surprising your loved one,” I smile. “The discreet, tasteful box arrives for you in the mail and you leave it out on the counter for him to discover.” My hands tremble as I reach for the bottle sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter.

  I turn to Jackson, tilting the bottle at him. “A knowing look across the room is all it takes. Tonight is going to be special. Hard and fast, or slow and sensual—however you like it, it’s going to be hot.”

  He hums in appreciation and I glide toward him, my voice growing more confident as I approach the couch. “It’s easy to admire the beautifully designed bottle, but inside is where the magic is.” Jackson laughs at this line and I squinch up my nose. “What? It is beautifully designed.”

  He chuckles. “Keep going.”

  “Just wait until your partner feels the pleasure-packed, silky liquid caressing his skin. Penchant lube enhances every touch, making even the smallest motions radiate with pleasure.”

  Jackson’s eyes darken and he shifts in his seat. There’s no hiding his physical reaction to my words, and my body tightens in anticipation.

  “Only the finest, state-of-the-art ingredients go into our lubricant, and your partner can tell. Luxurious, silky, and full of back-arching goodness.”

  Jackson catches me by the back of the knees, sliding a hand to my naked ass, and I moan in pleasure. He pulls me forward and I tip into his lap, my free hand falling onto his shoulder to brace myself.

  Jackson runs his tongue over the side of my neck, and I can’t form a single thought that isn’t yes. I tilt my head, yielding, every nerve ending stretched tight as a wire. I just barely hold on to the bottle of lube in my hand.

  “I’m trying to concentrate here,” I finally huff out. If I don’t pause for a moment I am going to lose my ever-loving mind.

  Jackson pulls me down lower so I’m straddling him, locked firmly over the ridge in his pants. “Concentrate on this.”

  It’s my turn to laugh but I grind against him, my body sparking, my breath coming in short bursts. Who needs to think, anyway?

  He shimmies my dress over my head and all the way off, flicking the pad of his thumb over my bra. And then inside it, over my nipple, pulled hard and tight as a bud. I gasp against his mouth.

  “You are so wet, aren’t you?” I blush and nod. “Then I guess tonight’s lube is just for fun.” Jackson shifts me off his lap, climbing to his feet to slip out of his clothes. Light catches in his eyes as he stands over me, his body carved like a statue, lean and strong. I want him. I want him, I want him. I do.

  “Tell me more,” Jackson whispers, grasping his cock in his hands. It’s a sight so erotic I almost can’t breathe. His voice catches low in his throat, a moan like he’s losing his control. “Tell me a story.”

  I open the bottle of lube, pouring
a small amount into my palm. I stroke my hand over him, silk over steel, and his whole body shivers. “The liquid glides over your partner’s skin, every nerve ending coming to life. This is going to be a night to remember.”

  A drop of lube spills onto the nearest throw pillow and I wince. I pull my hand away and look up at him. “We are going to ruin Gayle’s couch.”

  Jackson tilts his head, his eyes hot and hungry. “Who cares about the couch?” It is a very, very good point.

  “Not me,” I say, and I reach for him.

  Chapter 38

  I stare up at the ceiling, my body still tingling with the aftershocks of my orgasm.

  “Oh my god, Jackson. That lube is going to make us a fortune.”

  Jackson traces a circle on the skin of my hip and I lean into his touch. Somehow, even after, I can’t get close enough to him. He’s the drug your friends warned you against trying even once. Just a taste and you’re hooked. It’s the reason I stayed away in high school, the reason I ran away after that broken kiss. And yet, here I am, practically purring.

  “So we did good?” Jackson smiles. His touch sends tiny shivers down my spine.

  “Mmm,” I agree. “I approve. Except now I need a shower.”

  “Sure.” He plants a kiss on my mouth before I go.

  Under the hot water of the shower I touch my lips, still tender from being so very well kissed, and try to collect my thoughts. Today’s been…everything…and my body’s still humming in that sex-satisfied way, making everything seem like a dream. But we really, truly have a plan for launching Penchant lube. And I couldn’t be more proud.

  When I step out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around my body, Jackson’s waiting for me in the living room.

  He smiles, taking in my damp hair and naked skin. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

  I make a face. “Nice line, Jackson.”

  “It’s worked before,” he says simply.

  Jackson and his past, always cropping up to ruin a good moment. “I don’t want to hear about it.” Would things be different if he could exist outside my memories? If I had met him now and didn’t know him then? His history is marked on every building in this town. It’s behind my eyelids if I close my eyes too tight.

  “That came out wrong.” The crease between his eyes darkens for a moment. “According to legend, my dad used that line on my mom before their first date and she knew then that she’d always love him.”

  “Oh.” I take a deep breath. Suddenly this is way too deep, too much. I need to say something to lighten the mood. “Do you remember that time he got stuck in the window breaking into your house?”

  The whole family had been at Wirth & Sons to decorate the store for Memorial Day, and when we got back to their house Mr. Wirth realized we’d gotten locked out. Rather than wait for me to locate a key in my house next door, he decided to take matters into his own hands and crawl in the family room window. It hadn’t ended well.

  “Push harder!” Jackson mimics now, and I remember how Jackson and Conor had each grabbed a leg to help their stuck dad before realizing Mr. Wirth just wasn’t going to move any other way than back down. “God, I wish I had a camera on me when we pulled him out.”

  “His face was priceless,” I agree. We both smile at the memory. “I actually used that story in a writing class.” I move one of Gayle’s twenty-three throw pillows so I can sit next to Jackson on the sofa. “Although I don’t even know where that writing is anymore.”

  “What about current stuff? I want to read your stories.”

  I freeze. How does he know I’m writing again?

  Jackson nods his head toward the front door. “That’s your notebook, right?” The blue cover of it peeks out of my purse, which I must have dropped in the middle of, um, everything.

  The words inside that blue notebook aren’t fiction at all, just a growing capture of this lube journey. After Jackson leaves I’ll fill the book with memories of today—Honey’s smile, the flogging. Seeing Matthew outside a sex shop. It’s been the longest day, but with Jackson here on my couch it feels fresh again.

  “Maybe one day,” I tell him. “But you probably won’t like it anyway.”

  Jackson wraps a strong arm around me and pulls me into his lap. “If that marketing text was any indication…Jesus.”

  I flush with pride but I still demur. “I had extra inspiration today.”

  Jackson shakes his head at me. “I’m serious, Nat. Anyway, what matters to me isn’t if your writing is good or not. It’s that it’s yours. I know writing is important to you, so it’s important to me, too.” He doesn’t care that I’ve had a million rejection letters, that everyone else thinks I’m a fraud. He cares, and somehow that’s all I need.

  Something inside me loosens and this heat rushes over me as we sit on the couch in the darkened guesthouse, my head tucked under Jackson’s chin. I blink my eyes hard, trying not to cry, because I realize that out of all the stupid things I could have done, I’ve finally done the worst. I’ve fallen in love with Jackson Wirth. Again.

  Chapter 39

  By the time I step out of my solo shift at Holy Grounds the next morning, my phone shows two missed calls from Mandy. I laugh when I see her name on the screen. I’m actually surprised she didn’t call sooner.

  I carry a PB&J to the banks of Accident Lake and call her back halfway through my lunch. “You rang, madam?”

  “Is it true?” Mandy’s voice sounds breathy and impatient. I guess we’re getting straight to the point.

  “Is what true?”

  Mandy snorts. “Oh please, don’t even try to play coy with me. I ran into Matthew in the hall yesterday and he spilled the beans about your new life as a lube mistress.”

  “Ugh.” I pick at the crust of my bread. Wholegrain seemed like such a healthy choice at the grocery store but today I can’t deal with the seeds. I toss the crumbs to the swan who has come to investigate. “Don’t say mistress,” I chide without heat.

  “Shit. Sorry.” She pauses, waiting me out. “So it’s true.”

  “Yep.” Just like every time I’ve had the chance, I say the words with pride. “I absolutely own a lube business.”

  Her squeal comes at such a high volume I have to hold the phone away from my ear. I imagine her eyes, sparkling at me. “Natalie Bloom, you are a badass.”

  “Well, thank you.” I take a pleased bite of my sandwich and the peanut butter sticks to the roof of my mouth. I swallow for a second before I can speak. “On a scale of Oh, these are blueberries, not chocolate chips to What? I have several illegitimate children? how surprised was he?”

  Mandy laughs. “He was purple. Literally. I thought he might have a heart attack right there and thank god he didn’t because I don’t want to have to give that cheating asshole mouth-to-mouth.”

  Solidarity is a good, good thing. I smile into the phone. “Can you be my bodyguard always?”

  “If you bribe me with coffee and wine, probably.” Her voice brightens. “And lube! But you’d need to live closer.”

  Here’s my chance. I throw the last of my sandwich to the swan and pick my way onto the rocky beach. I need to be up and moving to calm my nerves. “Actually, now that you mention it, isn’t your lease up soon?”

  “End of the month, yeah.” A muffled thump sounds in the background, followed by a male groan. She pulls the phone away from her mouth and calls into her apartment, “Ice pack’s in the freezer.”

  I hesitate. “Mandy, am I crazy or do you have some piece of ass there with you?”

  “You are not crazy. Except now I have an injured piece of ass here.”

  This time it’s my turn to squeal. “You didn’t tell me.”

  “Well I didn’t know yet that you’d be my newest lube supplier.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Eww.”

  “Whatever,” she snorts. “The more I get lucky, the more you get paid. Or something like that.”

  “Oh my god.” I groan. “You realize you just made me s
ound like your pimp?”

  “You’re like, the cutest pimp ever.” She laughs. “Anyway, back to my lease ending?”

  “Yeah.” I kick off my flip-flops and slip my toes into the lake. I’ll probably get tetanus or something from the water, but the current cools my ankles. “Well, I want to move back to the city.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Obviously. But I need to get a roommate.” I suck in a breath of marshy air. “Any chance you might be interested?”

  “I would love to room with you. Until somebody decides to put a ring on it, I’m a free agent.”

  I cringe. “Mandy, that dude is totally going to get the wrong impression.”

  She giggles. “Nothing like keeping him on his toes. So what did you have in mind?”

  I fill her in on the apartment listings I found online. I’d banked on her saying yes, so I expanded my search to include some two-bedroom places. A huge, not to mention more affordable, improvement over the studios I started with.

  “Send me the list of places and I’ll check them out,” Mandy says. “I don’t know if we’ll find a winner, but at the very least, I’ll be able snoop through some medicine cabinets.”

  I sigh. “You are totally going to look through my medicine cabinets, aren’t you?”

  “Nope.” Her voice is bright. “I already know you sell lube. Not too many more secrets to hide.” Except the secret I hid from my dad about how I used his money. My stomach sinks and I try to push the feeling aside so I can listen to Mandy’s plan. “Give me a few days and I’ll get back to you,” she says. “Love ya, Roomie.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I click off the phone and beam. I might need to invest in some high-quality earplugs so I can ignore Mandy’s late-night shenanigans, but it’s a small sacrifice. I’m going to pull this off. Project: Boston Comeback is underway. For the first time in a while I have options. Now I just need to earn some money to pay my bills and pay back my dad and Jackson. Time to get to work.