Caulk Tease

by Green, Megan

  Fuck me. I knew she was wet for me, but…

  “You’re fucking soaked, vixen.”

  She bucks her hips against my hand as I slide one finger inside her, my thumb coming up to circle her clit. “God, Barrett, please…” Her words trail off as my lips close over hers again, her moans pouring into my mouth and straight down to my cock. I groan in response.

  I want nothing more than to drop to my knees and taste her sweet pussy. Want nothing more than to spend hours lost in the paradise between her thighs.

  But Scarlett is sure to get suspicious if Monroe is gone too long.

  With a quick flick of her clit, I set Monroe on fire, her head falling back on her shoulders as her body completely gives way against me. I slam my mouth over hers, lapping up the taste of her orgasm in the only way I can right now, my hand finally loosening its grip on her hair and dropping to the zipper of my pants.

  I make quick work of them, freeing my cock in seconds and plunging deep into Monroe before she’s even completely come down from her first orgasm.

  Seeing her like this, in this lingerie, taking her here in this store…

  “This is going to be fast and hard, baby. You good with that?” I ask, the question bringing back memories of the first time I’d asked her that.

  She nods against me, the only sounds coming from her mouth little gasps of pleasure from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

  “Hang on,” I say, wrapping one arm around her waist and sliding my other hand back down to her clit. I circle it furiously as I start to pound into her.

  Monroe’s arms twine around my neck, her nails digging into my scalp as she holds onto me, her body working in rhythm with mine, slamming down onto me as I piston up into her.

  “Barrett, oh Barrett…”

  “Fuuuck, Monroe,” I growl out as her pussy clamps down around me, setting off a tingling in my balls that builds and builds until…

  “Fuck. Me.”

  The most intense orgasm of my life shatters through my body, setting every single nerve ending on fire in the most exquisitely painful way. It’s too much. It’s too intense.

  It’s the most goddamn perfect thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life.

  When I can finally breathe again, I open my eyes, a smile so wide spreading across my face as I lock eyes with Monroe. Her face looks exactly the same as I assume mine must look right now. Exhausted. Exhilarated. And thoroughly fucked.

  Reluctantly, I set her down on her feet. She quickly adjusts herself, righting the panties between her legs before the remnants of my orgasm slip down her thighs.

  I reach behind her and pull off the tag of the lingerie. Then I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. I take out a credit card and hand it to her, along with the tag.

  “Tell them you’re wearing it out. And buy a few other things while you’re at it.”

  She smirks up at me. “Liked this, did you?” she asks, sliding her hands down her sides and over her hips.

  I pull her up against me, sucking her bottom lip between my teeth.

  “I fucking loved it. And if you don’t stop it with that shit, you’re going to get us both caught.”

  She gives me an impish smile. “Maybe I—”

  A knock sounds at the door.

  “Monroe? What is taking you so long?”

  Her eyes flash to mine, terror replacing the lust that had been there only moments before.

  Scarlett.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Monroe

  Barrett brings out a side of me that I never thought I had. Sex in general hasn’t been at the top of my to-do list and yet I find myself doing it a lot lately and in public of all places. Letting go and being a little careless is kind of exhilarating. Which is not a feeling I ever thought I would experience. At least not in this lifetime.

  He holds me tight to his body. He drops a kiss on my lips and his mouth tastes like the perfect combination of both of us. The mint from his gum and the sickly-sweet syrup from my soda. His eyes stare deep into my soul and he says, “I fucking loved it. And if you don’t stop it with that shit, you’re going to get us both caught.”

  The idea of us getting caught sends a thrill through my body. I know we’re playing a dangerous game right now, but it doesn’t change the fact that sneaking around makes everything more exciting. “Maybe I—”

  A small knock echoes in the room and I freeze when I hear, “Monroe? What is taking you so long?”

  Scarlett’s voice from outside of the fitting room brings me back to reality. What am I even doing right now? I’m supposed to be making a new friend and instead I’m having orgasms during our shopping trip. Not that I’m complaining, but still it’s not what I should be doing right now. Shit, I need to get my mind in the right place. The old me would have never done something like this. Then again, the old me wasn’t the slightest bit happy, so maybe I shouldn’t focus on that part so much.

  Kicking myself into high gear, I spastically stumble around to find all of my clothes. “J-j-just a second,” I stutter out.

  Sex in a public dressing room. How is that something I just did? I can’t wrap my head around being in this fitting room by myself let alone with another person. With Barrett Brooks.

  “Is everything okay in there?”

  No, it’s not even a little bit okay. A quick glance in Barrett’s direction and he’s biting his lip. The laughter dancing in his eyes tells me he’s not going to hold it back for much longer. I throw his t-shirt in his face as I scramble to put my clothes back on.

  He takes his leisurely time dressing himself and all I want to do is slap that smug look off his face. “I’m fine, Scarlett. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “You sound weird, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes!” I fall to the side as I struggle to pull my jeans back on. I guess I am taking this teddy after all. “Just a second, I’m just getting dressed.”

  I shove Barrett into the corner and hope with everything that I have that he stays hidden. I open the door a crack and slide out. Scarlett must be on to me because she’s right there waiting for me when I exit. I try to quickly pull the door shut behind me, but she isn’t having any of it and pushes the door wide open.

  She has the biggest smile on her face as she looks from me to a very shirtless and delicious Barrett. Why is he still holding his t-shirt? “How’s it going, Barrett? Your fly is still down, you might want to fix that before you come out here.”

  He has the audacity to smirk at her as he zips himself up and replies, “Just dandy. And yourself?”

  “Not as good as you, obviously. But I can’t complain.”

  This is weird. All of these normal pleasantries like we all don’t know that Barrett and I just got done majorly fucking in the fitting room. Barrett doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by our indiscretion, but part of our agreement included us keeping it a secret. I start to panic, and I blurt out, “You can’t say anything.”

  I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth, especially when I notice the hurt written all over Scarlett’s face. “What makes you think I’m going to talk?”

  “I don’t know, you’re a bartender, isn’t that what you do?” I ask in an attempt to cover up my insensitive comment. Hoping to make it sound more like an assumption based on her job description, rather than me not trusting her, before our friendship has even gotten started.

  “No, we’re more like therapists. You can tell us all your secrets and we keep them locked up like Fort Knox.”

  “Well, I’ve interrupted your shopping trip long enough. It was good seeing you again, Scarlett.” Barrett leans down and kisses my temple, saying, “I’ll see you back at the house.”

  He takes a pull on the straw from my soda before placing it in my hands.

  All I can get out is a, “kay,” before he’s walking out of the store.

  “Excuse my language but what the fuck is going on with you two, girl?”

  And isn’t that the question of the day? I shru
g my shoulders because I literally have no idea.

  Changing the subject, I ask, “What’s going on with you? Who are you shopping for?”

  Her cheeks redden and her gaze slips to her battered Converse. I’m afraid they’re going to fall apart as her toes dig into the floor with fervor and intensity.

  A small laugh falls from her lips as Scarlett looks up at me and rearranges the messy bun atop her head. “Why does a woman need a man to buy fancy lingerie. Maybe I want to get all sexed up, light a few candles, turn on some Sex on Fire, pour a glass of wine, and head on down to clit city.”

  I choke on the soda flowing from my straw. That was not the response I expected to hear from her. “Have we reached that part of our friendship? Is this a thing? Do women talk about stuff like this?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have too many girlfriends. Most are judgmental bitches and think I’m out to steal their boyfriend. No thanks, I’d rather not.”

  “I’m just as inexperienced as you in that department. The ‘no girlfriends’ part. I wouldn’t even know the first step to getting a boyfriend, let alone stealing one.”

  “So, what’s your story then?

  And that is the million-dollar question. I’ve spent so much of my life focusing on everyone else around me.

  “How much time do we have?”

  “This sounds like the kind of thing we need to talk about over drinks. There’s a shitty Mexican restaurant in the parking lot of the mall. They have good chips and salsa and they’re heavy handed on the margaritas. Are you hungry?”

  I know Barrett is probably expecting to see me soon so we can finish what we started in the fitting room, but the idea of making a real friend trumps that one hundred percent. So instead, I follow my new friend to crap food and good drinks.

  * * *

  “So, that’s my story and how I got here.”

  Scarlett puts her finger in the air as she picks up her glass to polish off her third margarita. I don’t know if it was the alcohol loosening up my lips or my sudden desire for the connection that only a friendship with another woman can bring me.

  She leans forward on the table getting a little closer to me as a tray of dishes comes crashing to the floor right outside of the kitchen. Some asshole gets up clapping his hands and hollering at the red-faced waitress who looks like she’s ten seconds away from crying. I feel compelled to run to her side and help her clean up the mess when Scarlett says, “Where are you at on your bucket list?”

  That’s definitely not the question I thought she was going to ask, but it’s definitely more uplifting than talking about all of the death that has surrounded my life and brought me back to Winchester.

  My bucket list? The last time that crossed my mind was the first night I met both Barrett and Scarlett. I created the damn thing on a whim and when the opportunity presented itself to cross something off of it, I went for it.

  I shrug my shoulders and say, “It’s kind of taken the backburner lately.”

  “Well, we can’t have that. Now can we?”

  I guess we can’t. The fresh bowl of piping hot queso burns the tip of my tongue as I shove another chip into my mouth. When Scarlett said the food was crap, she wasn’t kidding. The taco plate I bought tasted like an overpriced drive-thru meal. The cheese dip is reminiscent of what you would find in a high school cafeteria, but at least it’s edible. You can’t exactly ruin chips though. I’ve been nursing the same cocktail since we got here and Scarlett has commandeered the majority of the pitcher, which is just fine with me since I’m obviously going to be the one driving us home.

  “So, what kind of things are on your bucket list? Two dicks, one chick?”

  I choke on my margarita as she asks her question. “Um, no. Threesomes weren’t something I considered before.” Then again it wasn’t something I clearly thought out. But the idea of adding to it suddenly sounds like the best thing in the world. I’ve put myself second to most everyone in my life and it’s about damn time I do more for myself.

  “Seriously? I saw Wren Danzig at the airport one time and I totally thought about asking him to participate in one with me. Not that I had a boyfriend or really anyone to be the third in that scenario. But how could you not have thought about taking a big cock to the front and back?”

  “Easy. That is an exit only zone. Nobody is going to be sticking anything in there, ever.”

  “Huh…no anal play on your list either? Suit yourself, girl, but you’re seriously missing out.”

  I highly doubt that, but I’m not going to say anything to further her ridiculous thought process. Two guys at one time? That just sounds exhausting and painful.

  I wouldn’t call myself a prude per se, but just this conversation alone is making me realize how inexperienced and very vanilla I am. Maybe I need to be a little more adventurous in the bedroom…the problem is I have no idea what that even entails and I’m definitely not going to be asking Scarlett any advice on that topic.

  “I’ll take your word for it. Besides, I didn’t say it was a sex bucket list.”

  “You mean a fuck-it list,” Scarlett adds with a wink before busting out laughing as hard as she possibly can.

  That was a pretty good one and I lean back with my own full belly laugh. It feels good to let loose and have fun for once.

  “Okay, let’s write this list down then. What’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

  Scarlett has a pen in her hand poised above a semi-clean napkin. I shake my head as her grin gets wider and wider.

  “If you don’t tell me what you want, I’m going to start adding stuff to this list for you.”

  “A tattoo,” I blurt out before I can even process what I’m saying. A tattoo? Is that something I really want to get? I nod my head. I do want one. “I want to get a tattoo.”

  The pen slips from her hand as Scarlett spastically waves our waitress over. The tray dropper quickly comes over to us with slumped shoulders and red-rimmed eyes. Scarlett must not notice, or she doesn’t care as she asks, “Hey Jessica, can you bring us our check? My new bestie is getting a tattoo.”

  Wait, what? “Now?”

  Scarlett whips her head forward to face me. She downs the rest of the contents of her glass and licks the liquid sitting on her top lip. Her eyes are wide, and she’s got the biggest smile on her face. “Now.”

  Holy fucking shit. What did I just agree to do?

  Chapter Twenty

  Barrett

  I toss my pen down on the table, leaning forward and raking a hand through my hair as I let out an exasperated breath. Three hours spent running numbers, and I still can’t get this shit to match up.

  I know the answer is simple. One tiny detail I’m missing that will suddenly make everything click into place. But do you think I can figure out what it is?

  No, because it’s been four hours since I left Monroe in that damn lingerie store, and she still isn’t home.

  I lift my head and look at the clock above the mantle. It’s nearing eleven, and I haven’t heard a damn thing from Monroe.

  Where the fuck is she?

  I get up and walk to the front window, peeking through the blinds and scanning the street. No headlights coming from either direction.

  Fuck it, I think. I’ve held out long enough. I pull out my phone, hit Monroe’s name, and press it to my ear.

  Only to be met by the plucky tone of her voicemail, telling me she can’t take my call right now.

  I end the call and chuck my phone against the cushions of the couch. Lifting my hand once again to my hair, I run my fingers through it as I begin to wear a track in the carpet in front of the window.

  Twenty minutes and a failed attempt to call Scarlett later, my phone is back in my hand, Google showing me the number of the nearest hospital. My thumb is hovering over the “call now” button when the front door finally swings open.

  I whirl around. “Where the hell have you been?” I ask, taking in her unharmed—though slightly tipsy—form. “Do you know what ti
me it is?”

  She quirks a brow at me. “Sorry, Mom. I didn’t realize I had a curfew.”

  I don’t miss the smile she tries to hide at her own joke. And though I realize how ridiculous I sound, I can’t seem to stop.

  “Do you know how worried I was? I was just about to start calling hospitals to see if you and Scarlett had been in an accident. Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

  She reaches back and slides it out of her back pocket, pressing a button on the side. “Huh. Guess it died.”

  A perfectly valid reason for her not to answer her phone, but…

  “Scarlett’s just happened to die too, did it?”

  She shrugs. “Dunno. I think she left it in the car while we were inside.”

  I stride across the room, taking both of her arms in my hands. The movement finally causes her gaze to snap to mine, and her eyes cloud with confusion as she scans my face.

  “Don’t you ever leave me in the dark like that again.”

  I hadn’t meant the words to come out so harsh, my tone conveying every ounce of worry I’ve experienced in the last few hours.

  Unfortunately, Monroe doesn’t read my tone as concern. She jerks out of my hold, spinning and storming toward the stairs.

  “Look, Barrett, I’m sorry I kept you waiting. But just who in the hell do you think you are? You aren’t my dad. You’re not my husband. Hell, you’re not even my boyfriend. You’re just some dude I happen to be fucking. You don’t get a say in what I do or when I do it.”

  Before she can begin the climb, I grab hold of her arm again, spinning her back around to face me. I pull her body tight against mine, bringing my face as close to hers as possible.

  “There’s more to it than that, and you know it.”

  Only this morning, I’d been the one to tell her we’d both walk away from this once we’d had our fill.

  But if there’s one thing the last few hours have shown me, it’s that there is no walking away from this woman.