Wedding Date (Dating Series Book 6)
Page 3
“It sounds like you and Theo have so much potential, though,” Amelia says, actually sounding like a romantic, which I know she’s not. Well. Ever since she got together with her new boyfriend, she’s softened up. Maybe she’s a believer after all.
“Our potential is friendly. That’s it. Sex complicates things.”
“Sex complicates everything,” Caroline says with a dreamy smile on her face. “But sometimes in the absolute best way.”
“Maybe for you,” I tell her. “But never for me. Sex ruins everything.”
I need to remember that. In fact with Theo, I always do. Sex ruins it all. I’ve had a few friends with benefits. On occasion, I would hook up with this one guy I used to work with. The sex was good. There were no strings. He acted like he wanted nothing more from me, and I definitely felt the same.
But then he started texting me more. Followed me around at work. Making it really obvious that something was potentially going on between us. I didn’t want to bring the so-called relationship into our workplace, so I told him to cool it.
He flipped out. Threw a fit. Made me uncomfortable. Then begged for my forgiveness. It was a mess. Luckily enough, he moved. Transferred out of our office and started working for Wilder Hotel Corp up in Seattle.
Him leaving was a huge relief. He was the final nail in my relationship coffin. He was the reason I swore off men.
And I’m sticking to that. No matter what happens.
Four
Theo
It’s past ten and I’m lying in bed, scrolling through one of those dating apps—not Rate A Date, that one was for shit, at least for me—and checking out my matching prospects. There’s some beautiful women out there. Beautiful, successful women with bright smiles and impressive careers, according to their profiles.
It’s hard to tell, who’s for real on these sites. Who I could be attracted to. I’m not even sure if I’m ready for casual dating yet.
I’m a long-timer. A life-termer, according to my jerk-ass brothers. Now that I’ve been single for a while, I’m wondering if I should get back out there. Start dating again.
None of these women appeal to me, though. I keep scrolling, my finger tapping at my phone screen again and again, the motion monotonous. Almost boring. Why am I doing this? It’s almost like torture, scrolling past all these women, wondering what secrets they might be hiding behind their wide smiles and overblown profile descriptions.
I’m sure they’re all perfectly nice, but I’m still a skeptic. A doubter. I got played by Jessica, and it still hurts. I’m wary.
More than anything, I trust no one.
I secretly thought I would struggle with being single, but I’ve come to terms with it. After those first initial months of heartache and humiliation, I’ve slowly realized I enjoy being by myself. Growing up in a large household, I had no idea what that was like. Living alone. Having my own space.
Now I’m actually enjoying it. Not having to answer to anyone. Hogging the entire bed. Choosing my own movies/TV shows/documentaries to binge. Eating whatever the hell I want and not having my fiancée nag me on how I need less carbs and more proteins.
That’s a very specific example. One I don’t miss at all.
And if I want female company? I have Kelsey to hang out with. My friend. My beautiful, sexy friend.
I’m scowling. I can feel it. Kelsey is what my youngest brother calls a smoke show. She’s unbelievably gorgeous. Sometimes I wonder what she’s doing, hanging out with me all the time. She could get any man she wants. That face of hers could inspire poetry. Songs. Could make a man do something desperate, like cry at her front door, begging to be let in. Write her letters declaring his undying love.
Not only is she a beauty, she’s also smart as fuck. Quick and funny and a good listener. She gives solid advice. She can drink beer and throw back shots like a champ. If I weren’t so against dating women, I suppose I’d try to go for her.
Probably would chicken out after having the rather rude realization that I don’t stand a chance with her. I’m not her type. I’m just—a guy. I have a successful job and make damn good money, but other than that, I’m pathetically average.
And my friend Kelsey is completely out of the stratosphere.
Exhaling loudly, I slide out of the dating app and decide to check out…
A porn site.
Shit, look. I’m a healthy male in my early thirties. If I want to partake in some porn, I’m allowed, right? I’m single. I’m not out messing around with an endless list of women. I actually haven’t had sex in months. I need to relieve the tension somehow.
Sitting up a little, I scroll through the popular videos on one site, searching. I land on a brunette with cock-sucking lips and a face like Megan Fox in her earlier years. Not that she isn’t hot now, but young Megan Fox reminds me of…
Kelsey.
I’m going to hell for this, but yeah. I’m about to jerk off to the porn star version of my friend.
I start the video and settle into my pillows. This woman is hot, spread out on a bed clad in a pair of virginal white panties and nothing else. Her legs are bent at the knee and she’s nibbling on her index finger, her lush red lips parted, her gaze on the camera. You can see her bush beneath the panties, which I find surprising. Most porn stars I see are shaved bare.
I kind of like the bush. Makes it a little more mysterious.
Reaching inside my boxers, I rest my hand on my stirring dick, my eyes glued to my phone screen. She slips her hand beneath the front of her panties, her fingers slowly working beneath the fabric. One finger circles. You can tell what she’s doing. Working that clit. I like to think it’s actually happening, but I’m sure this chick feels nothing. It’s all for show.
I push that thought to the side, annoyed I’d try to crap my own self out.
She arches her back, her eyes falling closed, her stroking fingers increasing their pace. You can’t see anything since her panties are still on, but I turn up the volume because I’m a pervert and holy hell, yes. You can hear her.
She’s wet.
I’ve got my hand gripped around the base of my growing erection, and the Kelsey porn star is writhing around on her bed when a man walks into the room, catching her masturbating. She’s so engrossed with her own self, she doesn’t even notice him. Only when he grabs hold of her hips and hauls her down to the edge of the bed does she supposedly even notice. A shocked gasp escapes her when he tugs her panties aside, shoves her hand away and proceeds to lick her up and down.
My ex hated oral. Giving and receiving. I never understood it. A blowjob feels amazing. I’m not a selfish bastard—I actually enjoy going down on a woman. But Jessica would always push me away. Said it made her feel uncomfortable.
So we never did it. And I miss blowjobs like crazy.
My current favorite type of porn is when they go down on each other. Penetration works too, but right now, I’m all about oral sex. It’s what gets me going. We all have our preferences, am I right? There’s nothing better than a POV blowjob either.
In fact, I skip through a few minutes of the current video and get to that point. The Kelsey lookalike is now on her knees in front of the man, her tits swaying and her fingers gripping the base of this guy’s dick. Her gaze never strays from the camera as she works her plump mouth over that cock.
I start to increase my pace, my gaze glued on her stretched wide lips, her licking tongue. I close my eyes. Imagine Kelsey doing exactly that to me. Her gaze on mine, her lips curled in a faint smile before she parts them and draws me inside.
A shudder works through me and I close my eyes. Lost in my mental porn reel.
This is wrong. I’m wrong for inserting Kelsey into my fantasy, but holy shit, I can only imagine the magic her mouth could work on my cock. A low groan escapes me. My hand is moving so fast, it’s like a blur. My balls tighten up, and that telltale tingle starts at the base of my spine. Fuck, I’m close—
My phone rings. So loud, I drop the fucker.
Cracking open my eyes, I watch Kelsey’s name flash across my screen. My hand is somehow still working my dick, never losing its rhythm, and then I’m coming. A stuttering groan falls from my lips as I jizz all over my fucking hand. My phone lies discarded on the bed, Kelsey’s name still flashing, and without thought I reach over with my free hand and answer the call.
Wait a minute.
She’s fucking FaceTiming me.
I leave the phone on my bed and somehow hurriedly shrug out of my boxers, cleaning my hand with them before I toss them onto the floor. I run my clean hand through my hair. Scrub it over my face. Pray to God I don’t look like I just got caught masturbating.
“Uh, hello. Earth to Theo,” she calls from the phone.
I glance down to see her pretty face filling my phone screen. Her dark hair is in a topknot on her head and she’s makeup free. I see a headboard behind her and realize she’s in bed too, wearing some sort of tank top with thin straps that show off her perfectly smooth shoulders.
I swallow hard, my gaze roaming all over that exposed skin.
Grabbing the phone, I hold it up in front of me, squinting at the image of myself. I don’t look so bad. My face is flushed. I’m going to pretend everything is normal. “Hey, what’s up?”
She never calls this late. Hope nothing’s wrong.
Kelsey frowns. “You okay? Been working out?”
“Uh.” I pause for a moment, blinking at her. “Yeah.” How else am I supposed to answer? And I guess I did just give my dick a workout.
Her frown deepens. “This late? I know you’ve been focusing on your fitness lately, but I didn’t realize you were this dedicated.”
“What do you mean, I’m focused on my fitness?” Now I’m the one who’s frowning.
“You’ve been working out more. You told me so yourself. If you’re not stopping at the gym after work, you’re jogging on the beach.” Her eyes light up. “Hey, maybe we should run together tomorrow morning.” On occasion, we’ve run on the beach together, though we’ve really never made a habit of it.
“You want to get together tomorrow? Is that why you FaceTimed me?” I ask her.
“Sort of. I didn’t plan on running, but let’s meet up. Or do you have an early meeting?” She frowns, her teeth catching her lower lip.
“I don’t have to be at work until nine.” Fridays are usually a catch-up day at the office for me. I rarely have appointments scheduled. I tend to make calls and concentrate on backed-up paperwork and cleaning out the endless emails in my inbox.
“Same here. Let’s meet at Carmel Beach. Is that okay?”
“Sure.” I pause for a moment, wondering about this call. It’s not like her to FaceTime me, especially after ten o’clock at night. “What else did you want to talk about?”
“Uhh…nothing much.” She sounds evasive.
Huh.
“Kels.” I bring the phone up closer to my face. “Everything all right?”
She shrugs one smooth shoulder. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our date for Jessica’s wedding.”
Worry sizzles down my spine. “What about it?” Shit, if she backs out, I’m screwed. There’s no one else I want to take to the wedding as my date. No one else I trust.
“I don’t know. I’m kind of worried about how we’ll look together. We’re friends, you know? We act like friends.”
“Okay.” I say the word slowly. “So?”
“Well, if you want us to look like an actual couple, then we have to—act like one.” She bites her lower lip again, this time with a wince.
“That shouldn’t be too difficult, right?” What, I’ll hold her hand? Pull a chair out for her? Big deal.
“Like, maybe we should act like we’re very together, if you know what I mean.” A single brow lifts.
“As in…”
This is one thing I’ve noticed about women: they think we’re mind readers. Well, guess what, ladies? We’re not. We’re simple. We need things broken down and spelled out. We’ll go along with what you want, for the most part. We just can’t always figure out what you’re trying to say.
She blows out an irritated breath. “You’re being really obtuse, Theo.”
Obtuse. Don’t think I’ve been called that before. “Please explain.”
“We’ll need to act like a bona fide couple who can’t keep their hands off each other,” she says, rather primly I might add.
I think of porn star Kelsey. And real, talking to me right now Kelsey. My Kelsey is a lot prettier than porn star Kelsey. “Like a couple in love.”
“More like a couple who are so hot for each other, they can barely stand it.” She hesitates for a moment, an unsure look on her face. “Don’t you think that’s the approach we need to take?”
“I guess.”
“You need to show Jessica that you’ve moved on from her. That you’re now with a woman who wants to have sex with you whenever, wherever,” Kelsey says.
“You know, she never liked it when I tried to go down on her.” Well, shit. I guess tonight is true confession time.
Kelsey’s frowning so hard her forehead is wrinkled. “Why in the world would she not like it?”
“I don’t know. Said it made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t like giving me blowjobs either.”
She just blinks at me. “That’s insane. Isn’t that what makes sex fun?”
“What, blowjobs? You like giving blowjobs?” I ask incredulously.
“I don’t hate it.”
I scrub a hand over my face, ignoring my stirring dick. “How did we get on this topic again?”
“I said we had to pretend like we’re a couple who can’t get enough. Blowjobs, whatever.” She laughs.
“Right. Okay. We can do that,” I say firmly, hoping I sound like I mean it.
“Of course we can,” she practically scoffs. This woman loves a challenge. “Plus, won’t your family call bullshit if this is the first time they’ve heard of me?”
“Oh, they know about you,” I say.
Her face brightens. “Really? You’ve told them about me? Your brothers?”
I have. They all think she must be hideous if I’m not trying to hit that, and I quote. None of my brothers are believers in being friends with a woman. They think it’s impossible. So she’s either ugly or gives off ice-cold vibes.
Kelsey is neither. She’s warm and sweet and smart. Easy to talk to. And very anti-dating right now. Same as I’m supposed to be.
“Yeah, I’ve mentioned you a time or two,” I say casually, like no big deal. I probably talk about her too much. In fact, I know I do. My mother has asked more than once why I’m not dating this Kelsey person. Another direct quote.
“I think you should bring me around your family before the wedding,” she says.
“Why?” I immediately start to sweat.
“Then it’s more believable that we’re together, Theo. Come on. You bring me to your parents’ house for dinner or some other family event, and there I am. On your arm. By your side. Kissing your cheek. Running my fingers through your hair. Like we’re together, you know?” She tilts her head. “It’ll be more believable that way when we show up at the wedding.”
“And you don’t have a problem with this?”
“Nooo, I think it’ll be fun. Come on, I trust you. You’re not going to make any real moves on me,” she says with a soft laugh.
See, that’s the problem. Lately I don’t mind the idea of making a real move on Kelsey. We’re compatible in almost every single way. Why wouldn’t we be compatible, sexually? I just jerked off to a porn Kelsey lookalike, for Christ’s sake.
“My parents invited me over to their house Saturday afternoon. They’re having a barbecue,” I tell her.
“Really? What’s the occasion?” Kelsey asks.
“There is none. They just—like to barbecue.” At least a couple of times a month Mom is trying to get me to come over for a family meal. If it’s during the weekday, I turn her down. I’m usually too busy
with work and they always want to eat early while I’m always working late. But when it’s the weekend, she’s got me.
And she knows it.
“Are you inviting me as your date?” Kelsey asks, her tone teasing.
“I guess I am,” I say with a smile. “Not sure what time, though. I’ll text Mom in the morning and ask her. She wakes up at like five, so I’m sure I’ll have all the details for you when we meet at the beach tomorrow.”
“Okay, great! This should be fun.” She laughs. “I can’t wait.”
“Yeah. Cool.” I nod, feeling like a complete dumbass.
“Oh, and Theo?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think it’s gross at all when a man goes down on me. In fact, it’s my favorite part of foreplay. I’m a fan of giving BJs too. Just so you know,” she chirps, just before she ends the call.
Shit.
Five
Kelsey
I’m standing by a cypress tree not too far from the parking lot, stretching my calves, when I spot Theo walking toward me, his arm pointed behind him, keys clutched in his fingers as he hits the remote and locks his car. He’s just far enough away that he can’t tell I’m blatantly checking him out, and so I look my fill with an extra-critical eye.
Studying him as Theo the man versus Theo the comfortable friend.
I wasn’t lying when I told him last night that I’d noticed he was working on his fitness. He’s been working out more, and it shows. The gray T-shirt he’s currently wearing stretches across his broad chest and shoulders in a rather appealing way. Just tight enough to show off his muscles. His legs are strong, his arms defined. Waist and hips trim. He looks good.
A lot better than he did when we first met. Back then, he was a little pale and the slightest bit doughy. Not fat. Not even chubby. Just—a guy who sat at a desk or on a couch all day and night. Someone who didn’t get outside much and worked too much. He still works too much, but he also goes to the gym.