by Devon Ashley
“Thank God!” he cried, which made me laugh. I didn’t remember much after that, ‘cause I think I fell asleep, but when I awoke the next morning, he still hadn’t let go of me. We must have both slept hard not to move all night. I stirred, which got him moving too. I lightly traced random designs on his shoulders, biceps and pecks, as he gently did the same to my side, hip and outer thigh which draped across his, our eyes mingling.
“Are you still sore?”
“I don’t think so. But it’d probably be best if we played softly this time.”
Evan rolled over me and placed his arms and legs all around so not to lean directly on me. “I think we can manage that,” he said soothingly before lightly caressing my mouth with his.
“So I think I’ve found my bridesmaid dresses.”
“Oh, yeah? How much?”
Sophie groaned over the phone. “You would ask that before asking what it looked like. Sometimes I wonder if you really are a girl inside.”
“Sophie, I’d wear a designer garment bag for your wedding if you asked me to. And I know you have good taste, so I’m not really worried about it.” After five seconds went by in silence, I slightly rolled my eyes and leaned over the speakerphone. “So what does it look like?” I tried to ask with as much enthusiasm as I could muster without sounding fake.
“Oh, my God, so cute! It’s strapless and satin in shades of purples and blues and it is so girly it’s freakin’ cute! It’s gonna look awesome on you.”
“Alright, so where do I need to go to try one on?”
“Please. You know my dad’s totally gonna pay for the dresses. And don’t worry about skipping work or anything, I know you only have Sundays off, so I’m gonna go with my cousin and try one on for you. The next time we get together I’ll bring it and we can see if you need any adjustments.”
“Okay, now I feel bad,” I whined.
“What? Why?”
“’Cause. I’m your freakin’ maid of honor and I can’t do anything with you or for you. You’re stuck doing all this on your own and it sucks ‘cause I totally wanna be there for this stuff. It’s bad enough I don’t know how to plan your bachelorette party or your bridal shower, can’t I at least be there to try on my own freakin’ dress?”
“Well, we were gonna go Saturday, but I guess we could go on Sunday. But the store’s in Philadelphia. It’s like a six hour drive from Rutland without the bus stops. You’re talkin’ at least sixteen hours on a bus in one day just to come try on a dress. Jenna, I love you, but that’s just stupid.”
That did seem like an incredibly tiresome way to spend my day off. But part of me still really wanted to go. “I know, but I can do it. I mean, I can’t let my job and location screw me out of all the fun. I wanna get to do something with you.”
“Okay. It’s your decision. But tell you what. Let me see if the dress is available somewhere closer to you. I never bothered checking ‘cause that store was so close to my parents’ house.”
“But what about your cousin? Isn’t she near Philly?”
“Yeah, but she can go any time. If I find a store between you and me, it’ll just be us on Sunday. Call you back tomorrow night and let you know?”
“Sounds good. I’ve gotta get going. Evan should be here any minute to take me to dinner.”
“Ooh,” she sang suggestively. “And just how are things going with that hotty of a soccer player?”
“What? You officially cheering for Evan now?”
“Jenna, I’ll cheer for any guy you decide is worth your time. But, I gotta say, he’s a guy that should have some pretty good stamina, if ya’ know what I mean.”
“Kinda hard not to, Soph, since you have a very dirty mind.”
She laughed. “You’re one to talk. I’ll let’cha blow me off tonight but I better get the dish this weekend, girly.”
Sophie found a dress shop in Hartford that cut my ride in half, so I agreed to catch an early bus on Sunday, stay overnight and catch another early bus home on Monday. Evan was none too thrilled to hear I’d be taking a bus by myself, and got a little cranky when I wouldn’t let him come with me or drive me both ways. Sorry, but sometimes a girl just needed her gal pal. But in order to maintain the peace, I agreed to let him drive me to the bus station, since he also seemed to be anti-cab.
“Here,” he said, turning on the cab light as he passed me a small box with a picture of a phone on it. But unlike the last box I was given like this, it actually contained a phone. “Before you even think about arguing with me over this, the only way you’re getting on a bus without me this morning is if this phone is in your pocket.”
“Evan, I don’t have a phone plan ‘cause I don’t wanna pay for one.”
“And you don’t have to pay for this one. It’s pay-as-you-go. When the money runs out, you either add more money to the account or you don’t. You can just walk away. But like I said, you’re not getting on that bus without having a way to call someone if you get into trouble.”
The way his eyes glared kept me quiet. It was sweet, and thoughtful, and if having this was gonna make him feel better about me going out of town today, then I’d take it. “Okay,” I agreed.
“Damn,” he muttered. He hit his fist on the steering wheel a few times, then turned back with a twisted smile. “I was hoping you’d call my bluff so I could go with you.”
“Sorry, Evan, but I didn’t think for one second you’d actually get on that bus.”
“Oh, no?” he challenged. He reached behind my seat and pulled a small black duffel out, holding it between us. “Still don’t want me to go?”
“Did you really pack a bag or is that just filled with sweaty gym clothes?”
“It is my gym bag,” he admitted, “but the clothes are clean.”
I laughed, and leaned over the bag to kiss him. “I’ll only be gone one day. Nine A.M. tomorrow you’ll be right back here to pick me up again, okay?”
“You know, Valentine’s Day is this week and we’re celebrating next Sunday. That’s my night. Tell Sophie you’re staying home.”
I chuckled as I grabbed my bag off the floor and opened the door. “Really think you can take her? She’s a hair-puller.”
“I’ll shave it before we rumble.”
“Bye.” I blew him a kiss before disappearing through the double sliding glass doors, my insides so warm I never even noticed the chill of the night.
I arrived at the Hartford bus station at ten-thirty, and Sophie was already waiting for me in the central area. She practically jumped up and down but kept her feet firmly planted on the ground. Had it really only been a few weeks since she came to see me?
“Time to go shopping!”
I smiled over her giddiness, hoping I’d be that excited to get married one day.
“Wait,” she commanded, reaching her arm out to stop me dead in my tracks. “Just wait. There’s something different about you. Something… you’re sleeping with Evan, aren’t you?” My lower jaw just kinda slipped loose. “Oh, my God, you are! I knew it!”
“How in the hell could you possibly know that?”
She giggled at my expense before replying, “Are you kidding me? You’re all smiles and your face is practically glowing. I mean, you’re like happy again. I haven’t seen this look since before Christmas.”
“All right, shut up,” I said playfully, walking away. Desperately attempting to get her to focus on anything but my new sex life, I baited, “Come on. Dress time.”
We grabbed an early lunch before heading to the dress shop. Of course she noticed me texting Evan that I arrived safely and demanded to be given the number ASAP. I didn’t even know it, and actually had to call her so she could save it.
“If you waste what few minutes I have on this, I will totally block your ass.”
“I don’t think you can do that with pay-as-you-go.” She smirked, winking at me. “But I won’t blow up your phone. Promise. This way Evan will have plenty of room to send you dirty text messages while you’re at work.�
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I shook my head lightheartedly. Lordy…
She was right about the dress being awesomesauce (her word, not mine). It was my turn to playfully twirl on the platform, and the satiny tiered layers of solid blues and purples and paisley prints swished gently around my legs. I even liked the top part. I wasn’t usually a big fan of the strapless gown ‘cause my chest wasn’t as blessed as Sophie’s, but the ribbed layers managed to fill me out a bit and gave me some va-voomph (again, her word.)
As Sophie purchased the dress, I scanned the necklaces behind the glass display case. I really needed to get something new. I’d caught myself reaching for that missing flower way too many times to count. At this point, I doubted it was because I subconsciously thought of Robert, but more of a nervous habit. But everything in this case was flashy and way overpriced for the fake gems that they were.
Sophie hung the dress in the back of her dark red Jeep Grand Cherokee, promising to bring it to the wedding for me, since I’d probably travel by bus to get there when the time came. And oh yeah, I was by no means allowed to get all fat before the wedding, including in the uterus department (eye roll – as if!) Nor was I allowed to get skinnier and upstage her. Okay, that I laughed at, ‘cause she didn’t need to worry about anyone upstaging her.
“Careful, Soph,” I teased. “If your claws extend any farther out, I’m gonna have to classify you as a Bridezilla.”
“Bitch,” she muttered back, but her smile told me she wasn’t offended.
We spent the rest of the day at the hotel, mostly in the spa. Sophie had a thing for spas, and I wasn’t gonna turn down a free massage. Though how the hell she convinced me to get into one of those mud baths was beyond me. It felt so…awkward. And the moment I sank in, I really needed to pee.
“So tell me. Is Evan everything you dreamed he’d be?”
“Ha ha. Very funny. As a matter of fact, he’s a little better.” A lot in fact. ‘Cause the one problem I had with the dreams was that I never felt satisfied. I always woke up feeling like I had been sexually teased all night. But now that our interactions were real, I was finally getting some satisfaction. Although, he was still treating me like I was a delicate flower after that first weekend, and hadn’t been frisky even once since.
“Girl, you’d better get that shiz back under control now or your sex life’s gonna be boring.”
“Trust me, nothing he does is boring. But it bums me out that all those dirty tricks he performed that first weekend have completely disappeared from his sexual repertoire.”
“Have you told him that?”
“No.” I slowly waved my arms repeatedly underneath the layer of mud. “And if I don’t get his frisky side back again soon, I’m gonna snap.”
“Look at you.” Sophie giggled. “Three years ago you couldn’t even discuss sex without your face turning all red and going into panic mode. Now you’re talking about how you wish your boy toy was a little more S&M.”
I was tempted to throw mud at her, but settled for rolling my eyes. Uh…no. Bondage was not my idea of a good time.
“Time to start talking dirty, my friend. Guys love it, can’t resist it. It’s like programmed into their DNA or something. Get him so excited that soft and sensual doesn’t even register on his scale of sexual output anymore.”
“Well, we’re celebrating Valentine’s next weekend. Maybe I can come up with something that’ll inspire his dirtier side.”
“Atta girl!”
I figured a sexy game was my best bet to rile him up, so I started thinking of ways to twist the most famous of all: strip poker. Sophie loved my idea, and by the end of the day, we had created a new set of rules that had her anxious to go home and try it on Jhett. I, however, was gonna have to wait an entire week until my next day off, ‘cause I planned to stretch out the game for as long as possible. Just to drive him nuts.
I held my hand out, waiting for the keys I just asked for. Liked I hoped, it drove him bonkers all week when I wouldn’t tell him my plans for our Valentine’s celebration. And tonight, I was gonna dirt-ify this boy’s sex drive. He just didn’t know it yet.
Unfortunately, he ignored my waiting hand. “Are you even insured?”
“No.”
“Then I’m driving.” My shoulders slumped and I pretended to pout a bit. He pushed against my back and sent me out his door and down the stairs.
“Fine. But it won’t matter how many times you ask, I’m not telling you about our night until we get back with everything.”
“Fine.”
The sly twist to his smile told me he’d try to break me, but no way was I gonna spill and ruin the fun. For our first stop, I had him park on the main avenue in town. “This is gonna take me about twenty minutes, so you might wanna get lost in the music store or something.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said, releasing the strap across his chest.
“The hell you will. And if you step inside that store or so much as peek through the window, I won’t buy a single thing.” I left him behind in the truck, where he was faking a pained expression. But I’m sure it disappeared the moment he saw I entered the lingerie store.
Half an hour later, I came back with a black bag that I kept shut with a death grip. His smile was insatiable, and I just sat there with an innocent smile. “Grocery store, please.”
“You’re not going to tell me what’s in the bag? Or at least tease me with a peek?”
“No, I’m not. Grocery store.”
Shaking his head, he reluctantly started the truck and took me to my next destination. When we got there, I leaned back into the cab, smacking his hand the moment it tried to touch my little black bag. I unzipped and dumped his crap from the gym bag and stuffed my lingerie inside. He banged on the steering wheel once when I stepped out with it, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “Be back in a few.” What items I purchased I also hid in his gym bag before I leaving the store, and it was really starting to bug him when I asked him to take me to the last stop, ‘cause he had a good idea what was coming his way, and was already suffering from anticipation. So maybe bringing him along worked in my favor after all.
When we got back to his place, I shoved his TV and game console to the side, so there’d be plenty of space for our dinner spread of random Asian cuisine. He had to bite his lip to keep his smile under control when I also added a selection of desserts that were commonly used for licking off your partner: chocolate and caramel sauces, whipped cream, cherries and chocolate mousse. Yeah, I know. Cliché. But for what I had planned tonight, I was alright with that. But still, he was more interested in eyeing his gym bag and the elusive little black package still hidden within.
“So do I finally get to see what’s in the bag?”
“In a minute, yes. Sophie and I came up with a game last weekend that I wanna play, and just so there’s no confusion, I have a list of rules.” I pulled a sheet of paper from my purse and snapped it in the air between us.
“Wow. You even typed them.” He reached for the paper and I playfully smacked him away. His expression was priceless, and I had a feeling I’d be getting a lot of those tonight. “What? Not worthy of laminating?”
I ignored him, then cleared my throat dramatically to read them verbatim.
“1. Adorn six articles of clothing. No more, no less. Choose wisely, and feel free to check your partner for accuracy.
2. The winner of each hand has the power to choose all of the following: which article of clothing opponent loses, who gets to remove chosen article of clothing, which food is to be eaten, and whether or not it will be fed by opponent or eaten off an exposed area of opponent’s body. Winner also wins one minute right to any exposed area of opponent to do as with they please.
3. First one to remove all of their opponent’s clothing gets their choice of dessert to be eaten off their opponent’s body, or for their opponent to eat off their body.
Note: At no time during the game is kissing, licking or eating allowed above the neck unless in the
dessert phase of the game.
“Any questions?” I asked, batting my eyelashes.
His grin was voracious, and the way he casually sat on the end of the card table with his arms folded made me purr inside. “So basically, this is a game of power.”
“Uh-huh. So you wanna play with me?” I sang, my fingertips trailing down his abdomen and grabbing hold of the button on his cargo pants.
“If it means I get to see what’s in that little black bag, then hell yeah.”
“Fine. Six articles of clothing. Go.” I snatched the bag and my purse and locked myself off in the bathroom to change. When I came back out, Evan’s jaw dropped as he stared in disbelief. Seemed my idea to fill dirty thoughts in his head was already working.
“Shit,” he mumbled.
“So, are you ready to play?”
“Oh, no-no-no-no-no. Says here,” he said, flicking my sheet of rules, “that I can check your clothing for accuracy. I’d hate to start playing and find out you’ve miscounted your…” –he paused to look me up and down– “…apparel.” He was way too happy.
I semi-curtsied. “Check away.”
He circled my body, his hand trailing along to confirm what he saw wasn’t an illusion, or quite frankly, just to feel me up. “Top. Bra; hopefully lace. Frilly, ballet looking skirt that barely covers the ass; nice choice by the way.” He bent to confirm another article. “Hot pink panties and two thigh-high stockings. No heels?” he asked, whispering behind my ear.
“That would have given me eight.” His hand was trying to tickle the skin beneath my skirt. I crossed my arms as I took my turn circling him, counting aloud each time I acknowledged an article of clothing: two socks, one pair of cargo pants, one t-shirt and one loose knotted tie. “That’s only five, love.”
He smirked. “There’s a sixth. You just haven’t found it yet.”
Accepting his challenge, I peeked inside the slim space between his pants and stomach, noticing white cotton fabric. “Tube sock. Nicely done, though I bet it’s gonna get awfully hot in there if I don’t win any games.” I released his cargos, deciding not to point out the obvious of how boxers would’ve protected him all the same.