by Elle Aycart
Nodding, she took a step back, although what she wanted to do was strip him and fuck him in that bathroom, OGs and other guests be damned. “Oh God,” she said, looking down at herself, at the wet spot between her legs.
“Your swollen lips and glassy eyes will give you away, Grease Barbie.”
“No worries. I’ll pass through the kitchen and throw a pitcher of water over myself.” It would cover the wet spot and cool her down. “Wait a minute, then come out.”
“I may need more than a minute.”
She lowered her gaze to his crotch. Yeah, a minute wouldn’t get the job done.
Chapter Six
Rachel checked the clock on the wall and looked around the garage. They’d been swamped all day, but XL, Ash, and Monti had been a huge help.
“Guys, you can leave. I’m going myself. I have some errands to run for the sheriff.” Today was Monday, grocery shopping day. She hadn’t seen him since the weekend. After their impromptu make-out session in the bathroom, she’d had to go help the OGs, and Rachel and Adrian hadn’t gotten any more alone time. On the plus side, the grannies assumed her wobbly legs and general untidiness were due to her efforts in the bathroom, so she and Adrian hadn’t been found out.
The kids looked at each other. “We have nothing else to do, so we’re in, Grease Barbie. Lead the way. We’ve never been in A’s cave.”
Neither had she, for that matter. She only knew he’d rented a house near his granddad, not that far from her own place, in the old part of town.
She checked the address with Holly, the dispatcher, and headed that way. When they arrived, the kids jumped out and rang the bell. She followed. A grumpy voice hollered that he was coming before Adrian flung the door open. He looked angry and a bit disheveled. Obviously sick leave didn’t become him.
He frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“We came for the shopping list,” Rachel answered from behind the guys.
Adrian looked at her and averted his gaze, as if he were embarrassed. She knew that kind of expression. It was regret. The beer and the pain medication had worn off. “There’s really no need. I’ll manage—”
“Nonsense. I always pay my debts, Boomer. Go, write down the list.”
“Unless you want to come with us,” Ash offered. “You can sit on one of those carts with a car for children. If you don’t fit, there are always the electric bikes for seniors.”
“Ha. Ha.” Was Adrian’s response as he limped inside and started scribbling on a piece of paper. XL, Ash, and Monti glanced around the house. They didn’t seem to find anything interesting except for a PlayStation 4.
With the kids busy checking out his games, Adrian motioned for Rachel to come to the kitchen. Once there, he wasn’t able to meet her eyes. Or find the right words. “Listen, Rachel.”
Wow, he’d never called her Rachel before. She was intrigued now. She crossed her arms, stifling a smile. Let’s see how the cocky sheriff is going to blow me off.
“About what happened the other day. You know, in the bathroom. I…” He passed his hand over his hair and started pacing awkwardly. “I’m not sure we should have…” He stopped and lifted his hands as if trying to placate her. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I enjoyed it, of course, you were fantastic, but this could turn complicated, so I was hoping we could behave like adults and…”
Poor guy. He was sweating bullets. “Don’t worry, Boomer. I’m good. We’re good. It’s already forgotten. It was nothing. Just a mistake, a lapse of judgment. We got carried away. Now the list, Sheriff. And the credit card,” she finished, stretching her hand out to him. “Oh, and the deal doesn’t include cleaning your place. You aren’t a neat freak.”
His gaze was somewhat confused, but his smile appeared to be one of relief. Rachel, again, wasn’t sure if she should feel offended or amused. She’d go with the latter. After all, she’d known this was going to happen. She and the sheriff: water and oil. He’d been trying to let her down gently, but there was no need for that. She wouldn’t get clingy. It was what it was. They’d had a good time—too short, but good nevertheless. It was enough. Any further entanglement was off the table. Besides, she was too overbooked to add regular humping sessions to her extracurricular activities, never mind how rewarding those sessions were.
“A cleaning lady comes once a week,” he said.
She looked around. “You’d better ask her to come twice a week, or she’ll find you buried in your own mess.” Being at home with nothing to do was clearly not Adrian’s forte.
“Yo, you have two game controllers?” came from the living room.
“Yes,” he answered.
When they came back from the kitchen, the kids were playing rock-paper-scissors. XL won and turned to Adrian. “I’m staying, and you and I are gonna play Mortal Kombat—deal?”
Laughing, Rachel walked out, taking along two pouting kids and leaving behind a rather dumbfounded Adrian. Not in a million years would he have expected that reaction from her.
Once the door closed, he linked his fingers at the back of his neck, sighing out loud. “Fuck my life.” Had she booted him? Or worse, friend-zoned him? That wasn’t what he’d meant. She’d misunderstood him.
“Why? What’s wrong?” It was XL, frowning. Adrian snapped out of his bewilderment and turned to XL, slapping him on the back of his head. Hard. Adrian had to process Rachel’s words, but first things first.
“Ouch, what the fuck, man?” XL complained. Adrian stared at him, giving the kid his most severe glare and crossing his arms over his chest for effect. “What? What did I do wrong?”
“Ever heard the expression ‘don’t shit where you eat,’ you punk?”
XL seemed confused. “What do you mean? I didn’t put a finger on Grease Barbie.”
“No, you used ten of them. On Sara,” he punctuated, hopping toward the couch.
“How do you know?” XL asked, following him.
The how was too embarrassing, so Adrian skipped it. “It doesn’t matter how. What matters is that Sara is a Haddican, Mike’s little sister. You play with her and Mike will come for you. The Bowens too. You won’t be able to set foot in Alden without getting your ass kicked. And don’t think Grease Barbie will side with you, because she’ll be the first in line to beat the shit out of you. I’ll be second.”
“I’m not playing,” XL explained, looking at the floor and shuffling his feet.
Crap. That was even worse. “What do you mean?”
“I’m meeting her tonight. We’re going out on a date.”
“Where are you going, mister? Because I remind you, you can’t enter a bar.”
“We’ll think of something.”
That was what Adrian was afraid of. He sighed in resignation. “For your information, dry humping is second base.” He’d checked it. XL looked stunned, but Adrian shrugged it off. “The kitchen isn’t as private a place as you think.”
He took one PS4 controller and gave XL the other. It was going to be better if he limited himself to kicking the punk’s ass virtually. But his heart wasn’t in Mortal Kombat; it was on the petite blond dressed in coveralls who had just left his place. The more he thought about her words, the more pissed he was. “A mistake”? “A lapse of judgment”? That wasn’t what he’d meant. He’d wanted to tread with caution, make sure she didn’t get her hopes up about what sex would lead to, but he hadn’t had any intention of blowing her off. If she had waited for him to finish talking instead of jumping the gun, she would have known that—but she didn’t, because she’d blown him off. And seemed damn happy while she was at it.
Thank God he hadn’t finished talking; he would have ended up looking like a moron.
He’d wanted her like crazy. Had been so turned on it had been a miracle he hadn’t come in his pants in Max’s bathroom, but sex with Rachel could turn complicated, and he didn’t want that. To say nothing of a relationship, of course. That was out of question. She wasn’t his type, not a woman he’d want by his side in the long r
un. Now, if only his dick could get the memo, all would be good.
“Man, you’re shit at this. What’s up?”
Adrian shrugged. “I hate being cooped up in here all day.”
“Rachel said she owed you and that as long as you were injured, she’d run errands for you. Take her up on it.”
Sure, because having her around was going to improve matters. Then again, maybe it would. If they could forget Saturday ever happened, they could go back to their previous relationship. Bickering friendship, uncomplicated by sex. He’d have a rampant case of blue balls, but whatever. Not the end of the world. That was what she seemed to want. He could manage that, right?
They played until there was a knock on the door. “Home delivery!” Ash yelled. “Open up!”
The guys were carrying shopping bags and Rachel held two extra-large pizzas. “Kids insisted,” she said.
He hopped to the kitchen, but XL, Monti, and Ash ushered him right back out. “By the time you have everything in place, the pizzas will be stone cold. Go and sit in the living room, old man.”
He stayed, just to be contrary. The guys worked like a perfectly greased conveyer belt, throwing shit to each other and putting it where it belonged. Correction: wherever they thought it belonged. Adrian was going to have a hell of a time finding his food. On the plus side, in no time they were all eating piping-hot pizza.
The TV screen was frozen on his pathetic game score. Rachel pointed at it. “You the one losing?”
“How do you figure?” Adrian asked.
“Boomers have bad eye-hand coordination.”
The kids burst into laughter.
“I’m not a boomer, and my eye-hand coordination is perfect. That,” he said, pointing at the screen, “is because of the pain meds.”
Now everyone was snickering, Rachel included. Tough crowd.
“Do you have Fortnite?” Adrian shook his head, and she continued, “Let’s download it. I see two PS4 controllers, a desktop computer, and a laptop. That means we can be a squad of four. What do you say, guys? Better to fight together than against each other.”
“We’re five,” Ash corrected. “The boomer high on pain meds will have to sit this one out.”
“Don’t worry, we can share. We’ll take turns,” Rachel told Adrian.
“Wait, no need,” Monti said. “I have my laptop in my backpack.”
Adrian didn’t have time to answer before everyone went into motion, pizza slice in one hand, soda in the other. Ash manned the desktop, Monti his own laptop, XL Adrian’s, and Rachel sat on the sofa where the PS4 controllers were.
“Come on,” she called. “Let’s download it.” She proceeded to explain the rules, apparently for Adrian’s benefit more than anything, since the rest seemed to have played already.
He’d never seen his kids being kids. They laughed and bitched and occasionally high-fived each other.
“How do you know so much about gaming?” he asked Rachel.
She answered without tearing her eyes from the screen. “My little brother.”
Sexting and gaming, the epitome of little brothers.
He’d half expected things to become weird between them. Awkward. But they weren’t. She was treating him like a friend—which made him angry and disappointed and confused. Suddenly the one who wasn’t feeling too adult-like was him.
The pizzas were gone, several bags of potato chips too, and they were still playing. Until the alarm on XL’s cell rang. “I’ve got to go.”
As he was putting on his jacket, Rachel approached him and whispered something to him. XL nodded.
“XL,” Adrian called.
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re going to say. No need, man. Grease Barbie already warned me.”
“You guys don’t have to worry,” Ash interjected. “XL is head over heels for her.”
“Shut up,” XL ordered, but Ash and Monti ignored him, waving and making kissing sounds.
Rachel went to the kitchen. “Pulled pork on the nachos?” she yelled toward the living room.
“Yes,” was the collective answer from Ash and Monti.
Adrian hopped to the kitchen. She had nachos on a tray and was grating cheese over them.
“I don’t have pulled pork,” he warned her.
“Yes, you do.” At his frown, she explained. “Your grocery list was… lacking. Kids’ decision. I agreed.”
He studied her. No awkwardness or anger. No hidden agenda. It was as if nothing had happened. Then it dawned on him; she’d probably been about to give him the “it was a mistake, we’re just friends” speech while he’d been trying to find the right words to tell her that he wanted to screw her brains out without any strings attached. Man, what a loser.
She sprinkled pulled pork on the nachos and put the tray in the oven. Still programming the timer, she said, “Done. Let’s go, Boomer. You shouldn’t stand on that foot too long.”
“You’re right.” And before he had time to properly think what the hell he was doing, he encircled her waist and dragged her to sit on top of him while he sat on a chair behind him.
She laughed as she went along, her sweet ass plopping on his lap. “What are you doing?”
She tried to get up, but he tightened his grip and spoke in her ear. “I never said it was a mistake, and it sure as hell wasn’t a lapse of judgment. What I was trying to say was that I’m not sure we should have started anything without clearly defining the parameters. I was hoping we could behave like adults and keep sex separated from other issues,” he said, finishing the sentences he couldn’t before.
Rachel chuckled. “Really? Your blood must have been all down south, because you expressed yourself like crap.”
Probably. He fisted her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her gorgeous long throat. He kissed her there. “I just meant to say this would complicate matters.”
Her voice was already husky. Fuck, she was responsive. “Sex would complicate matters?”
He raked his teeth over her sweet skin. “Women tend to use it as a gateway.”
“Sorry, but I haven’t agreed to have sex with you, let alone use it as a gateway to anything.”
“You don’t want me?” he asked, positioning her legs on either side of his. “Because your body says otherwise. Your breathing is choppy, your nipples are puckered, and the vein at the base of your throat is pulsing like crazy. You’re dying to be fucked. Deep and hard.”
She shrugged, trying to claim indifference. “Want and should are different concepts. You may want to use sex as a gateway to cling to me afterward. A girl can never be too careful.”
Adrian bit her soft skin, then soothed it with his tongue, and he was rewarded by a shudder that was anything but indifferent. “I won’t. Sex is all I can offer.”
He could hear her smirk in her voice. “Are you any good, Boomer?”
She hadn’t complained in Max’s bathroom.
“How long until the timer rings?” he asked, licking the hollow under her ear.
“Twelve minutes?”
“Enough time to prove it to you.” He separated his thighs, opening her legs even further. “Your sweatpants might be an affront to fashion, but they’re convenient,” he whispered, moving his hand under the waistband.
That might have broken the spell he had her under, because she jerked, stopping him with both hands. “You nuts? We have two minors in the next room. They could walk in on us at any moment.”
True. Adrian reached over to the door and turned the lock. “The former tenant was a bit paranoid. There are locks in all the rooms.” One hand was under the waistband of her panties, and he was sliding the other under her shirt. “I don’t have condoms here, but I promise I will make you come like crazy. You just have to be quiet. Do you think you can do that?”
She cleared her throat and spoke, her voice shaky and aroused. “I’ll try. Can’t make any promises.”
“Very good, baby,” he said, moving even deeper inside her panties, until he reached her core. Her
bare, smooth core. “Fuck, you’re bare. I’m going to love eating you out. Not today, though. Today, I’m going to have you explode around my fingers, begging for more.” She jerked at his words. “You like dirty talk, huh?”
Rachel nodded, opened her legs even more. “Please…”
“Please, what?”
“Don’t tease,” she begged, arching her back and lifting her hips.
He chuckled and moved his hand lower, to her open folds. “You’re wet already,” he said in a growl, spreading her juices around her pussy without penetrating her. “I’ve been dreaming about having my fingers inside you since Saturday, when I made you come just by cupping your pussy through your pants.”
“It was hot,” she whispered.
“Yes, it was. I had to jerk off several times that night, but it didn’t help. I still wanted inside you.”
At his words, she whimpered, her legs parting wider. Adrian took his eyes off her and closed them, praying for calm. This was getting too hot, too fast. When he opened them, he realized the one thing he’d never liked about his kitchen—the shiny black cabinets—were now a godsend, because he could see her reflected in them.
He moved his hand up her chest. She had no bra on. Better. He cupped one of her breasts and roughly caressed it. His Grease Barbie gasped aloud, flinging her head over his shoulder. “More,” she pleaded. She liked it rough. Good.
He did the same to the other breast, stroking it hard, pinching her nipple while his other hand cupped her pussy. When he had her thrashing in need, he probed her entrance. It was so damn tight, but she was drenched. It would have to do.
He slid two fingers inside her, as far as they went.
Rachel flinched. “Hurts,” she whispered in a moan.
“How much?” he asked, stilling but not retreating.
Her legs were shaking but she opened them even more. “Just enough to make this hotter.”
Fuck, she was made for him. He thrust his fingers as deep as possible, the palm of his hand flush against her engorged clit, rubbing it. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at yourself in the cabinets.” She obeyed, and a new rush of liquid heat met his fingers. “You look so fucking hot.”