by Jewel, Bella
“DUDLEY! Stop! It’s okay, boy. It’s just warm air. Warm, noisy air.”
“Here.” I grabbed hold of him before he tore a hole in her lace dress. “Let me hold him while you keep him calm.”
She struggled to hand him over. “Somehow, I don’t think he’s gonna be calm during this.”
“Rub his cheeks.”
“What?”
“Like this, watch.”
Securing him with one arm, I placed my thumb on his wrinkly face and massaged in slow, soothing circles, hoping like fuck his eyes would stop bulging out of his head even more so that what they already did.
“He looks scared.”
“Since when do pugs not look scared?”
“Don’t pick on him. He’s terrified.”
“No, he’s not. Look …”
Danielle tilted her head to the side then smiled. “Wow! Is he going to sleep? How’d you do that?”
“I have magic hands.”
I didn’t, or maybe I did. Truth be told, I was more surprised than Danielle that my doggy facial massage had actually worked. I’d come across a video about it on YouTube once so figured I’d give it a try. At the very least, I’d hoped Pugly wouldn’t bite me.
“No, seriously. How’d you do that?”
“I told you. I have magic hands.”
“Elliot,” she warned.
“Don’t believe me? I’ll put you to sleep later.”
My response sounded far dirtier than I’d planned, but when I noticed her shuffle from one foot to the other, the dirty connotation wasn’t such a bad thing.
“We’re not gonna fuck.”
“I never said anything about fucking.”
“No, but you implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
The hand dryer switched off, so we both pushed the button at the same time.
“You insinuated your ‘magic’ hands would be putting me to sleep.”
“Exactly.”
“Ha!”
My god she was cute, especially when she was tipsy.
Staring at each other for what felt like eternity, I was happy for the moment to become a time loop when both our faces broke into huge smiles.
“I’ve missed you lots, Lots,” she said, her voice not much louder than a whisper.
I stopped massaging Pugly’s cheek and slid my hand into hers. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“Good. I’m still not fucking you, though.”
Before I could argue our case, my magic wore off and Pugly sprung back to life and out of my arms. “Jesus! Are you sure he is not part grasshopper?”
It made sense; the ugly fuck didn’t have much of a tail.
“Shit! Dudley, come back!” Danielle lunged, stopping him from jumping into the urinal, which was fortunate for both him and us, except while executing her Olympic medal worthy stretch, she ripped her dress, rolled her ankle, and fell to the floor with a thud.
“Fuck all the shits. Damn it! OwOwOw.”
I took Pugly from her and secured him by hooking my finger under his collar, holding him at an arm’s length. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and wrapped both hands around her ankle, rocking back and forth, tears welling in her eyes. “Yeah.”
“Stop lying.”
She nodded again, and a tear fell down her cheek.
“Shit!” Lifting Pugly, I placed him in her arms then lifted her into mine. “Let’s get you back to the apartment so I can take a better look at it.”
* * *
“Okay. I wholeheartedly agree that he needs train— Owwwww!”
“Sorry,” I said, wincing as I tightened the bandage I was strapping to her foot. “And yeah, he does. Sooner rather than later.”
“Did you move all of your clothing to higher ground before you put him back in the laundry?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about it. I’m more concerned about this ankle. You do realise you can’t drive, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay here.”
“It’s fine. I’ll get a taxi.”
“Danielle!” I said, sternly. “I have a spare room. You can crash here.”
“What about Dudley?”
“He can sleep outside.”
“Outside?” Her eyebrows near hit the roof. “As in on the balcony?”
“Yep.”
She frowned the kind of frown you’d give the Grinch at Christmas.
“I’m kidding,” I laughed. “He can sleep with you, or in the laundry. Whatever suits you best.” What the fuck am I saying?
Clearly, I was saying anything to get her to stay. I didn’t want her to leave. Not now, not ever. Sure, our first date had been unorthodox, but that didn’t matter. I’d really enjoyed spending the evening with her.
“I don’t know, Lots. Dudley and I have caused you so much grief already.” Dudley, yes. You, not so much.
“You’re not driving home or catching a taxi.” I fastened the bandage with a clip. “If you really don’t want to stay, that’s fine. I’ll drive you home and catch a taxi back here instead.”
“No! I can’t ask you to do that.” She shuffled backward, sitting straighter on the couch, her leg resting on my lap, my hand resting on her leg. “If you’re really sure it’s okay, then I’ll stay. Dudley can sleep in the laundry. He’s been bad and needs to be punished.”
I tried not to laugh at her pathetic attempt at discipline. I also tried not to jump on the couch and impersonate Tom Cruise.
Gently rubbing her foot, I reassured her. “I’m sure.”
She smiled then playfully punched my arm. “Okay. It will be just like that one time you were allowed to sleepover. Please tell me you still have Batman pyjamas.”
Heat rushed to the surface of my entire fucking head.
“OMG!” she shrieked. “You do, don’t you?”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do! You’re lying. I can tell.”
I lied. “I’m not.”
“I thought we said no more lying, Elliot,” she huffed, mimicking my voice.
“We did.”
I remained impassive, so she pouted then sighed. “Too bad. I was gonna ask if I could sleep in them.”
Check-Fucking-Mate. She’d successfully and quite easily outwitted me.
“I have Batman boxer shorts,” I admitted. “You can sleep in them.”
“Fine. Do you have a matching t-shirt?”
I did, but I’d prefer she not wear it. “No. You don’t need it. Trust me, it’s better to sleep topless. I do it all the time.”
Dodging the cushion she swung at my head, I caught it on the return swing. “If I remember correctly, we played Truth or Dare the night I slept over.”
Danielle tapped her chin. “Hmm … we did. Why?” she said with a smile. “Do you wanna play?”
“Well … it is tradition.”
“So is wearing Batman PJ’s.”
“But if you’re wearing them, how can I wear them?”
“Easy. I won’t wear them.”
“What will you wear?”
“My underwear.”
Just the thought of Danielle in her bra and panties swelled my cock. I fidgeted. “Lies.”
She shook her head. “Truth.”
“Fine. I’ll wear my Batman boxers for you.”
She clapped, excitedly. “Yay! Just like old times.”
Part of me shared her notion, but another part of me didn’t. Sure, I wanted to rehash old times, especially the fun ones, but I also wanted new times. Fun times. Sex times.
“Okay. Go get your PJ’s on while I take off my dress.”
Shit! She’s fucking serious.
“You’re joking, right?”
She shook her head.
Jumping up like a teenager who was ready for his first handjob, I ran my fingers through my hair before turning full circle, a little lost as to where I was headed.
“Wait! Can you unhook me first, please?” Danielle lifted her hair f
rom her neck and leaned forward, baring her shoulders to me.
“Sure.” I sat on the arm of the sofa and reached for the back of her dress, carefully unhooking the clasp and gently guiding the zip down, my hands shaking as more and more of her skin was exposed.
She flinched just slightly and closed her eyes, swaying toward me, as if she was unable to stop herself. Fuck, I was torn, not knowing whether to peel the lace and satin from her and carry her to my room, or to get up and walk away in the hope that, soon enough, I’d know for certain that taking things further was what she really wanted, because, right now, I had no fucking idea. And I couldn’t risk showing her my true feelings if it meant she would run away.
Been there, done that.
And I wasn’t going to do it again.
Chapter Thirteen
His touch was unlike anything I’d ever felt. Hot. Cold. Tortuous. Exquisite. It sent my nerve endings waltzing across the surface of my skin, their message a Cha-cha-cha to my brain.
“Is that enough?” he asked, his tone deep and gravelly.
The delicious sound fuelled every sensation I was feeling, but it was the cracked trepidation in his voice that provided a friendly reminder of where I was and what I should and shouldn’t be doing. And allowing his hands to remain on my back any longer was definitely something I shouldn’t be doing.
I held my dress up at the front and shuffled back along the sofa. “Yes, thank you.”
Elliot stood up and ran his hand through his hair. “Are you going to be okay? I mean … will your foot hamper the removal of your dress? I mean … do you need help getting out of it?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his awkwardness. “I’ll be fine.”
“Right. Of course you will. Okay, I’ll be back.”
He hurried off, and a wave of guilt hit me. Danielle, what are you doing? I was sending mixed signals. I knew I was. One second, I was “We’re not fucking, Elliot”, and next I was “Can you unzip me, Elliot?”
Ugh! I’d never known a man to have the ability to change my mind as often and as easily as Elliot could. And fuck all the shits, his hands were magic. It’s his goddamm fault.
By the time he’d returned, wearing a pair of Batman boxer shorts, I hadn’t moved. I was still seated on the sofa with the front of my dress bunched in my hands and secured to my chest.
“You did need help,” he sighed, reaching out to, what I assumed, was assist me with the undressing process.
I held my hand out. “No! Keep those magic hands away from me.”
“What?” He laughed, but it was one of those ‘you’re crazy’ laughs.
“I mean it. Your hands really are magic. They nearly tricked me into wanting to get naked. I wasn’t planning on getting naked, Elliot, just semi naked. As in Spanx naked.”
He stepped back, his hand finding his chin, which was when I nearly gave birth to my ovaries. OhmyfuckingGod! Elliot was the near naked one, standing there in all his trim, toned, muscular glory. My jaw dropped, and I gulped, clenched, squirmed, blinked … had a cardiac arrest.
“Danielle, I don’t think I’ve ever been this confused in my life.”
“You and me both,” I practically slurred, unable to remove my eyes from him.
“Firstly, what is a naked Spanx? Secondly, can you please start making sense now?”
Still unable to look anywhere other than the V muscle disappearing behind the batmobile, I blindly felt for the straps of my dress, slid them over my shoulders, and awkwardly shimmied out of it, revealing my nude coloured Spanx undergarment.
“This,” I said, continuing to wrestle the dress past my knees while slouched on the sofa. “This is Spanx. It’s my underwear. This is what I meant.”
“That’s what you meant by wearing your underwear?”
I finally raised my eyes to meet his, my sneaky smile beaming. “You thought I meant some skimpy Victoria’s Secret ensemble, didn’t you?”
“Of course I fucking did.”
I smoothed my hands down the skin-coloured slip. “You don’t like my Spanx? It’s meant to make me look naked.” I waggled my eyebrows.
“Being naked will make you look naked.”
“Elliot,” I laughed, “we’re not fucking. Friends should never fuck.”
The bastard slid his hands along the waistline of his boxer shorts and then dragged them over his six-pack, across his pecs, and over his shoulders, entwining his fingers and resting them on his head. “I’d say we’re more than just friends, honey. We’re engaged, remember? We should definitely fuck.”
I couldn’t swallow.
My. Throat. Would. Not. Work.
“I need a drink,” I choked out. “If I’m staying, I need a drink.”
He part scoffed part laughed. “What would you like?”
“Something fermented: wheat, grains, fruit or vegetables. I don’t care.”
Elliot disappeared into his kitchen and came back shortly after, carrying two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. “Vegetable and grains?” He held up the Maker’s Mark.
I nodded. “Perfect.”
Taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch, he placed the glasses and bottle on the coffee table and poured our drinks, handing me mine as he leaned back, delicately arranged my foot on his lap, and casually draped his hand over the back of the seat. “So … Truth or Dare, huh?”
I twisted my leg a little. “Maybe just Truth.”
“I think you can manage a dare or two.”
Taking a swig of my drink, the amber coloured liquor heated the very depths of my mouth. “You do, do you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then, dare. Dare me to do something, Lots.”
His ice blue eyes turned dark, and they dropped to momentarily take in my chest, which was of course covered in Spank.
“I dare you to …” He deliberately paused and it near killed me, the suspense of what he wanted me to do charging my heart rate.
I was just about to forfeit and skol my drink when his eyes lit up and he said, “Spock. I dare you to give me the Vulcan Salute.”
“Noooooo!” I cracked up laughing. “You arsehole. You know I can’t do that.”
He raised his hands in defence. “I don’t. For all I know, you could’ve perfected it over the years.”
“Well, I haven’t, so screw you.” I lifted my drink and eyed him aggressively as I sucked it down in one go. “Whoo.” I squinted for a moment, adjusting to the burn.
He pulled a not bad face and poured me another. “Nice start.”
“Thank you. Your turn. Truth or Dare?”
“I guess it’s only fair I choose dare, seeing as you did.”
“Good. Do this,” I said, poking out my curled tongue, knowing that he couldn’t.
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound filtering right through me. “Touché, honey. Touché.”
“Ugh! Don’t call me that.”
Elliot downed his drink then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Would you prefer Schnookums?”
I laughed. “No!”
“’Cause we can always swap, you know.”
“Did you see your sister’s face when I called you that?”
He chuckled and poured himself another drink. “Yes. It was the best face I’d ever seen her pull.”
“You’re so mean.”
“She’s meaner.”
Laughing, he sat back again, and whether he realised or not, his hand lightly caressed my foot. It was sweet. “Round Two: Truth or Dare?”
“I’m gonna go truth this time,” I said with a nod of my head.
“Okay. Are you honestly happy to see me again, despite our reintroduction?”
“Yes. Of course I am.”
He nodded, seeming pleased with my answer.
“You did freak me out at first, though.”
“No! Really?” He feigned shock, his eyes rolling.
“Yep. Your legal jargon nearly earned you a Facebook ban.”
“My legal jargon is sex
y.”
“No, it’s not!” I laughed and subsequently jerked my foot. “Owww.”
“Be careful. You don’t want to do more damage.”
“No, I don’t, otherwise I can never leave.”
“I dare you to do star jumps,” he said enthusiastically.
“Ha ha, very funny. And it’s your turn not mine.”
“Fine. I choose dare.”
“No. I want you to choose truth.”
“Bad luck. It doesn’t work that way.”
“But I chose truth so you should too.”
“Again, it doesn’t work that way, Danielle.”
“Ugh! You suck.”
“What was that?” he said, placing his hand to his ear. “You dare me to suck? Sure. What should I suck?” He lifted my foot and gestured toward my big toe. “This?”
“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.”
“I’m sorry. Is that a dare?”
“No! Elliot! I mean it. I can’t handle that shit.”
He lifted my foot higher, knowing I couldn’t yank it away.
“Please. You can suck anywhere else, just not my toe.”
His eyebrows rose, slowly, a predatory look rolling from his suggestive face. “Anywhere?”
“Well, not anywhere,” I answered, a nervous chill heating my body.
“But you said. And it is a dare, remember?”
“Fine. Anywhere … that doesn’t require the removal of clothing,” I added, smiling satisfactorily.
My clever answer didn’t appear to deter the determination in his eyes. “Dare accepted.”
Elliot placed his glass down on the table, stood up and walked toward me, my head flushing with heat that quickly travelled the length of my body. I sucked in a breath and gripped my glass harder when he stopped beside me, his hip level with my face. Good God his cock is within licking distance. I tried not to look at it, but Holy Batman if that weren’t a bat signal between his legs.
Willing my eyes to focus on the city lights beyond the floor to ceiling windows, I still hadn’t let out my breath until he continued past me, which was when I immediately sucked in another one the moment the tips of his fingers brushed my hair away from neck, exposing my skin.
“Should I suck your earlobe or your neck?” he teased, his hot breath near sending me into a coma. Fuck. All. The. Shits.
