Dad Bod (Under Construction Book 1)

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Dad Bod (Under Construction Book 1) Page 11

by Silla Webb


  “I’m gonna pass CC around so each of you can feel the power. Keep it PG, ladies. I’m talking to you specifically, Laney,” Jules jokes as she hands the vibe to Laney. “We’ll get down and dirty with some games shortly.”

  “Did you know there would be games because I did not. Hell, I didn’t even know this was a sex toy party. I thought it was just a cookout with food, beer, laughs around the fire.”

  Bryn’s brows furrow as she glares at me, concern laced all over her face. “Honey, take a deep breath. You act like you’ve never seen a vibrator before. Actually, a stimulator—since we’re being technical. What’s with all the panic?”

  “I just wasn’t expecting this.” I shrug.

  The women oooh and ahhh about the stimulator as they pass it down the line, each taking a few seconds to test the speeds against their palms, some being even more promiscuous by placing it against the flesh of their cleavage. “Your turn, Jo!” Laney drops the stimulator in my lap. “Try it out, girl! Feel the power.”

  “Yeah, no thanks. That’s not necessary.” I pass the vibr—stimulator, on to Bryn.

  “No, you’re not getting off that easy.” Laney takes the vibr—damn it, why do these things need more than one name? Coochie Creamer would do just fine, and it's clever marketing. I'd buy it online if that were an option. I save that thought for a later Google search. “Actually, that’s exactly what you want—to get off! But I think the setting is too impersonal right now, right? Or do you get off with others watching? I can’t believe I’ve never asked you this, Jo. I’m a terrible friend.”

  “Staaaapppphhh! That’s enough, Laney!”

  “Oh alright. I’ll give it a rest.” Laney passes the toy on to Katie, who is sitting next to me. Turns out, these women are all married to or in a relationship with a man from Davenport Construction. They all seem very friendly, and I think it’s nice that Laney and Carter open their home to Carter’s work colleagues. Poor Laney, I hope she never decides to open her home to work colleagues. Her employment at the preschool would likely decline, and I don’t think there’s enough caffeine for one woman to wrangle up that many preschoolers. Unless they all have similar tastes, and if that’s so, I’m seriously considering finding a new preschool for Kenny.

  Okay, Jo, reel it in, girlfriend.

  If it isn’t clear yet, sex makes me a tad uncomfortable.

  I don’t do relationships or one-night stands, so basically my only sexual relationship is with myself and my Amazon Prime Deal of the Day, and that’s okay. I don’t think I’m emotionally or physically prepared for a relationship, which is why I get so annoyed when Laney pushes the issue. Personally, I think she needs to focus on whatever hot mess is going on between her and Carter, clean up her own glass house and all that shit, but that’s another story for another day.

  “Okay, ladies! I’ve got a $50 gift card up for grabs on the next game.” Jules waves a banana and a condom about animatedly. Uhm, no. “We’re gonna split up in groups of two. Our lovely host is sitting out this game, so find a partner. One lady will be blindfolded, while the teammate will give you a taste of a sex gel, and you have to accurately guess the flavor combinations. Whoever has the most correct guesses wins!”

  Oh no, no, no. “I’m teaming up with Jo!” Bryn shouts as she slides closer to me, linking her arm in mine.

  “Yeah, I think I’ll sit this game out.” There’s no way I’m gonna deep-throat a banana and guess the flavor. Hell no. “But go ahead, maybe you can partner up with…” I look around the room noticing even teams partnered up. “Can we just sit this one out, Bryn?” I know what her answer is going to be before she even replies.

  “Don’t be a party pooper! Let’s have some fun! It’s only us girls!”

  “Okay, okay! You get blindfolded?”

  “Sorry, toots, but I’m severely allergic to latex, so you’ll have to take the blindfold.”

  Ugh! The things my friends put me through for shits and giggles. “Fine!” I groan. There’s no point in dragging out the complaints.

  A thick black satin blindfold is pulled over my eyes, and my hands are tied behind my back. Don’t ask me why it’s necessary for my hands to be bound—part of the game, I reckon. But seriously, this is getting way too BDSM. “Okay, ladies. On my count, Laney will set the timer. You have thirty seconds to accurately guess each gel you taste. Are we ready?” A chorus of cheers are heard around the room followed by the winding of the timer. “And GO!”

  I open my mouth to taste the first gel, closing my mouth around the banana. “Strawberry!” I shout.

  “One point, Jo and Bryn,” Jules says.

  “Yaya! Next!” Bryn cheers, shoving another banana in my mouth.

  “Ewww, banana!” I sputter. I hate bananas. I have a mental image of a thick, hairy, sweaty cock entering my mouth every time I attempt to eat one, which is one reason why I wanted to sit this game out.

  “Bryn and Jo in the lead!” Jules claps.

  We continue the game, each guess accurate and precise with Bryn and I leading.

  “Last one, Jo!” Bryn shouts as she shoves the banana in my mouth just a touch too far, and before I spit it out and name the flavor, roils of laughter bursts out around us, and I’m so very fuckin’ thankful that I have on the blindfold.

  “Well fuck, Lan, if I’d known there was a dick-sucking show, me and the guys would’ve watched instead of playing poker; right, Madden?”

  Shoot me dead. I just want Bryn to go ahead and block my airway with this banana. At least I can say I died a unique yet tragic death by deep throating fruit.

  “Game! And our winners are Jordan and Bryn! Jo sucked the flavor right off every cock, and she guessed them right!”

  Oooooh-kay, and those are the words for my tombstone. Fuckin’ Laney. We don’t need to elaborate the commentary any further. I’m sure it’s quite obvious to the wandering eye what the details of this game entail. Why describe it any further? Oh, but see… I totally know why. Because I’m obviously still alive!

  I push the blindfold off my face and stand from the couch. “I think I need some air,” I tell Bryn as I hurry past Carter, Maverick, Madden and half a dozen other men I’m not familiar with, and out the back door.

  I climb on the porch swing and pull my legs underneath me. My cheeks are flamed red with humiliation, and I’m sure my blood pressure is running hot too. “Jo, you okay?” Bryn asks, cautiously making her way toward me.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got too hot in there with so many people around.”

  “Who are you kidding, Jo? I know you better than that. Wanna talk about it?”

  Not really, but it’s easier to give her the cliff-notes version and get her off my ass now, than to have Laney intruding too. She has plenty of people to entertain, so I’m sure she won’t be out here for a bit. Thankfully.

  “I’m just not like Laney, Bryn. She’s guns blazing, all in your face, while I’m more modest and quiet. I’m happy being me, but she loves to showboat.” It’s then I realize tears are falling, and well, I just can’t have that shit. I do not cry in front of others, ever. I’m stronger than this, and I don’t show weakness.

  “It’s Madden, isn’t it? You’re developing feelings for him, and him seeing you in a compromising position like that embarrassed you. Am I right?”

  I absorb her words, letting them soak into my veins.

  And I realize.

  She’s right.

  I’m falling for Madden, but that’s a crossroads I’m not prepared to cross.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MADDEN

  “Sorry I’m late, man. Didn’t think Belle was ever gonna fall asleep.” Carter hands me a beer as I take a seat beside him around the fire pit that I helped him build last spring. We did a damn fine job if I do say so myself. It was the perfect addition to the awesome backyard my oldest and dearest friends already had. Everything from the pool to the party lights, lounge chairs and flat screen mounted on the outside wall of the house just scream—‘sit your fat
ass down here and don’t move for the rest of the night’

  “No worries, man, just glad your sorry ass could make it. There’s still plenty of food if you’re hungry.”

  “Nah thanks. I ate at Belle’s friend’s birthday party.”

  “Birthday party?” Mav raises his brow in question and looks at me confused. “I thought your ass was on a date?”

  “Where you been, Mav? The date was last night, and it was an epic fail.” Carter turns to me. “But you survived a kid’s birthday party without passin’ out? Way to go, fucker.” He hold his hand up for a fist bump, but I leave him hanging. Too soon asshole, too soon.

  “Did you get some pussy?” Mav smirks.

  “At a preschooler’s birthday party? No. That would make me a child predator, you sick fuck.”

  “Bah! Mav’s a damn pedophile! How did we not fuckin’ know?” Carter spews, spraying beer in the process.

  “Motherfuckin’ hell, you demented bastards. You know damn well I meant—did you get pussy on your date. But no, y’all wanna go twistin’ shit up. Next time I’ll borrow Belle’s crayons and colorin’ book and will draw y’all a damn picture instead of asking the question.”

  “There he goes again, wantin’ to play with the kiddies.” Carter chugs back a swig of beer.

  And because I cannot let the perfect opportunity pass, I add in my most serious voice, “So it was you who snagged Belle’s princess coloring book?”

  “Mav looks at the princesses and it makes him,” Carter takes a deep breath for dramatic effect and singsongs in his best girl voice, “Leeetttttt itttt gooooo.” I just roll my eyes and chuckle because that was pretty damn funny and let’s be honest, Elsa was kind of hot. And now I’m just as pervey as Mav. Jesus.

  Add new friends to the long list of things I’m in search of. This crew is sick as hell. I have to get us back on track because I can see this conversation maybe resulting in a need for therapy. I have a young daughter. A young daughter who loves Frozen. I’m talking loves Frozen so much we watch it on the regular. I will never be able to watch it with her again.

  “Carter just told you the date was a bust.”

  “So you didn’t get laid?”

  “Is pussy the only thing you think about?”

  Mav’s lip twists in a smirk as he considers my question. “Fuck yes, it is.” Then he thinks for a minute and says, “And food.”

  Despicable.

  “No, I didn’t get laid. And I doubt that had I propositioned her, she’d been willing. Sex is probably too dirty for her. Fuck, she probably Lysol’s her damn vibrator after every thrust.” I shudder as thoughts of my dick and a loofa flood my mind again.

  “Wait, did you say Lysol?” Carter asks in surprise, and when I don’t answer, he turns to Maverick. “Lysol. I heard that right? Fuckin’ Lysol? What kind of dirty whore did you find on fuckin’ Bumble?”

  “Dude, you’re the one who picked my date. Ellie, the cute blonde. Remember?”

  “But she was cute! She didn’t look like a damn whore.”

  How the hell does he misconstrue everything I say?

  “Did he say we’re gettin’ whores, ’cause if so, I know where we can get a two-for-one special,” Fifty chimes in, his eyes already dilated from one too many Budweiser’s. Well, if we make it to Poker, I know which asshole I’m takin’ to the bank.

  “Quieten the hell down. If Laney hears you say anything about me gettin’ pussy elsewhere, my ass will be in the doghouse, and damn if I ain’t there enough as is.” Carter puts up a good front, but I’ve known him long enough to know how much truth is behind that statement. Something has been off with him and Lan for a while now, but hey, I’m not one to meddle; I leave that up to the females.

  “If you drunkards would shut up long enough for me to get a word in edgewise, you’d actually understand what I’m saying.”

  “Well, don’t keep us waitin’ in suspense, lil’ buddy. You done got us excited for whores.” Fifty claps his beer bottle against Mav’s in cheers.

  Damn it, why didn’t I bring a fuckin’ coloring book. Isn’t it believed that coloring is a damn good stress reliever? Shit, maybe I should start carrying them around in my truck and take a time-out when these assholes get out of hand on the job site. Maverick may be on to something. “Ellie wasn’t a whore. She was an obsessive compulsive germophobe. She freaked out and left before I could even enjoy a conversation with her.”

  “What did she freak out over?” What didn’t she freak the fuck over? I keep replaying that date over and over in my head. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at lobster the same, and damnit I love that shit.

  “Let’s just say, she’s too sensitive to be in public. I don’t know, guys. Maybe I need to chalk it up to what it is and let it be.” Which would be the easiest, right? It’s about time something in this life of mine is easy. Hell, we have cable.

  “Bullshit. I get pussy every damn night. Gimme your phone.” Mav motions toward me.

  “Nah thanks. I don’t need a one-night stand, Mav. I’m actually looking for something more meaningful than that.”

  “I know that, asshole. Just gimme your phone. You let Carter pick your last date, and that was an epic-fuckin’-fail. Carter’s game’s about as hard as yours. He’s married. He doesn’t know what single men are looking for. Let the playboy find you some tail.”

  I slide my phone out of my pocket and hand it to Maverick because what could it hurt? That loud mouth of his isn’t going to stop until I do, and I sure as hell don’t want Lan and them involved. He swipes left again and again, browsing through the profiles I have saved in favorites. “You been talkin’ to any of these broads?” Mav asks.

  “I introduced myself to all of them just to strike up a conversation. A few have res—”

  “Bingo, fucker!”

  “What?”

  Mav begins texting out a conversation. “Dude, just remember that ain’t your profile, so keep it respectful and PG-13 for now.”

  “PG-13? Dude, you’re never gettin’ laid with that attitude.”

  I’m not sure how this ass ever made it through school; doesn’t he listen to anything anyone says? How many times do I have to tell him that I’m not just looking to ‘hook-up’. Not that some sex wouldn’t be nice. Hell, it’s been so long since I’ve felt anything other than my hand. I’m not sure my dick would even operate right.

  Note to self—tick ‘Find new friends’ a little higher up on the list of priorities.

  “Her name is Jasmine. I started the conversation off. Do you think you can handle this, or should I text her and just let you show up to the date and get your dick wet?”

  “Why do you think my only goal is sex?”

  “Because I know you ain’t been fucked seven ways from Sunday since—”

  “Heeyyy! Let’s head on into the man cave for poker. Bugs are startin’ to bite,” Carter cuts in, knowing Maverick was just about to stick his foot in his damn mouth. Belle’s mom is a topic that is still too raw for me. That chick mind fucked me, but she did give me Belle, and that little girl is the reason I breathe.

  The closer we get to the house, the louder the raucous becomes. “Didn’t know Laney was home tonight. As quiet as it’s been, I assumed she was out with the girls.”

  “Shit, Laney is on house arrest for the foreseeable future.” Carter laughs, pulling beers from the fridge and setting them in a bucket. I laugh thinking about the DJ incident at the club. Who would have ever thought those women could get that out of control? I mean, I know Lan can let loose, but I would have never thought that of the others.

  As we pass through the hall toward Carter’s man cave, I steal a glance into the living room and stop dead in my tracks, causing Carter to slam into my back. “Damn it, Madden!” He bitches until he realizes what pulled me up short. What the fuck? Are those dildos covering the coffee table? I know that shit didn’t come from no Pottery Barn. Wait, what the?

  “Well fuck, Lan, if I’d known there was a dick-sucking show
, me and the guys would’ve watched instead of playing poker; right, Madden?”

  This … is awkward. I don’t know what kind of kinky shit Laney is into, hell—to each their own, but I’m not sure if I should be aroused or confused.

  Actually, scratch that. Obviously I’m already confused, but…

  Fuck it. I’m aroused too. How the hell could I not be? Four women deep throating … is that a banana? Okay, that’s definitely a banana and shit, there is zucchini too—impressive. And then, just as my dick is resuscitated after years of celibacy, it deflates rapidly. Shrivels up like a damn turtle crawling back in its shell. Jordan’s head snaps toward mine, although she can’t see me through the blindfold. What kinda fuckery… She chokes around the banana as she attempts to unblock her airway, then she shoves the blindfold off her face in a hurry, glaring around the room until her eyes fall on mine. Judging by the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders, embarrassed doesn’t even begin to describe what she’s feeling. She takes a deep inhale of air before she stands and mumbles something in Bryn’s direction before she rushes outside. Fuck, I will never be able to work out again without the image of her deep throating a banana on repeat in my head. Although, in my mind it may be something other than a banana she’s choking on.

  Andddd that is completely inappropriate. I can’t think that way about my trainer. She sure as shit wouldn’t think of me that way. Friends, Madden. I repeat this to myself over and over in my head—we’re just friends.

  *~*

  I keep repeating just friends so much in my head over the next couple days that I accidentally answered my work phone on Wednesday morning that way. I’ve seen Jo three times since the incident with the bananas, and my mind is staying in the fucking gutter. I’ve thought about it so much that my morning showers have all had self-serviced happy endings with my imagination solely focused on my kickass trainer and not my usual go to of Jennifer Aniston. Wonder if she bought any of the flavored lube? Fuck, no … just friends. Keep saying it, Madden.

 

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