R: Better be a damn bouquet of roses.
Damn, Payton always had to tag along. This was supposed to be Blake and me, hanging out. I needed my friend back, and Payton just created more of a wedge, separating us even further. Nut up, dipshit. Payton was here for the long haul, might as well make the best of it.
Another text came in, this time from Lex.
L: I’ve been thinking about you. I miss my Pookie.
R: Save it for someone who cares.
The pet names needed to stop. Poor choice on my part to message her back, but she’d caught me at a weak moment. I should have blocked her number, but every time I went to hit delete, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I pocketed my phone and unfolded the note from Jules.
Gonna make you sweat
My dick twitched as I read the message. Jules ranked a solid ten on the dirty talk scale. Added to the fact that she made me laugh, and she didn’t want anything serious, this was just what I needed. Nothing serious. Just something to get my mind off everything else. It was also nice that she didn’t give me death glares when I made shitty jokes and kept surprising me with cool things like working on cars and being smart as hell.
I pulled the magazine out of my locker and checked off the second step while I read the third.
Step 3: Turn Up the Heat
Snagged that cutie yet? Now it’s time to lay on the moves. Take a little risk. Go out of your comfort zone. Leave him wanting more.
Jules stood behind the counter, ringing up a customer, when I came back onto the main floor. I moved behind the register and stood next to her as she handed the guy a receipt and his bag.
“C+C Music Factory. You’re running out of material.”
She leaned against the register, pushing out her chest. “Some of my finest work.”
“We have different definitions of fine.”
Putting her hands on her hips, she said, “And what’s yours?”
“You.” I decided to push the boundaries a little, seeing just how far she’d go in our game. Positioning myself next to her, I slid my hand over the band of her pants and cupped her over the fabric. Her head knocked back and she let out a sexy little groan.
The phone rang, and Jules quickly scrambled to pick it up. “Office Jax. Where all the supplies are top rack for unbeatable prices. This is Jules how may I help you tod—ay?” Her voice cracked as I rubbed her center through the material, and a flush blazed up the column of her neck like an untamed wildfire. She gripped the sides of the register and sucked in her cheeks.
I couldn’t hear the customer on the other end of the phone, but Jules’s eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into my touch.
“We’re open—” I rubbed harder and she stuttered. “T-till nine.”
She turned to me, covered the receiver with her hand, and whisper-yelled, “What are you doing?”
“You think you’re the only one who can do the teasing at work?”
“While I’m on the phone with a customer?” she hissed.
I grinned. “Can’t take the heat?”
Jules turned her attention back to the call. “What item did you want to know the price of?”
I flicked a pen off the counter and bent down to get it, dropping to my knees. I ran my hand up Jules’s calf to the inside of her thigh. Her leg quivered under my touch as I moved my thumb over the space between her thighs.
“Those range from fifty dollars to—” She stuttered as I unzipped her pants, pushing my finger through the opening and gliding over her panties. Her cheeks caved in as she sucked in a breath. “—one hundred.” She looked down and mouthed what are you doing?
She gripped my shoulder and said, “Have a great day, sir. And I hope you think of Office Jax for all your office supply needs.” After she hung up, she slumped against the register.
Chapter Seventeen
Jules
“Get up! We’re going to get caught.”
He stood up and said, “No one’s in the store.” He brushed his thumb along the lining of my panties, raising his brow. “You don’t want this?”
Yes. More than Oreos and Ryan Gosling combined. But not when “Relax” by Frankie Goes to Hollywood streamed through the sound system and potential customers were coming into the store. “I—” His thumb skimmed over my center and my legs buckled as I fought to keep upright by grabbing onto the counter. “Maybe. What about the cameras?”
“Dad doesn’t check them. And maybe doesn’t sound very convincing.” His breath caressed my arm like warm velvet.
I regained enough composure to shoot back a response. I scanned the store, no one in sight. Jack had just gone out to lunch. Screw it. I liked this new brazen side of myself that Ryan teased out. It might be the rush of endorphins talking, but I wanted his fingers inside me, and it made it twice as hot since this was so not a kosher thing to do at work. “Guess I’ll need more convincing.”
His finger disappeared underneath the fabric and entered me. I pitched forward and muffled my moan in my arm.
“You’re so fucking hot like this. Imagine if I replaced my fingers with my cock.”
Ryan swirled his thumb around my center, and my vision wavered. How the hell was I supposed to stay upright when his finger pushed me to the brink of insanity?
Leaning my back against the register, Ryan stood and thrust his finger deeper into me, and I let out a moan. He slid his finger out, rubbing me over my panties, my muscles tensing as I climbed higher to my release. The mix of the lace and his fingers gliding over my spot sent stars crashing against my closed eyes. I squirmed beneath his hand, my breath coming out in jagged huffs. My body arched into his palm, molding to his touch. Our gazes met, his baby blues boring into me, the intensity sending a shudder rippling through me. The way he focused solely on giving me pleasure, pushing me to the edge, had all my senses on high alert, feeling every movement from his soft breath fanning over my cheek to the firm hand that gripped my side. No guy I’d been with had ever been into foreplay, just used it to get to what they wanted—sex.
“Oh my God.” My legs shook violently, and I fought to stay standing as he flicked over my clit, almost sending me over the edge.
“Shit.” Ryan pulled away quickly and whispered, “Zip up your pants.”
The hell? My shaky fingers pulled the zipper closed, and I took a deep breath as Jack walked into the store, a fast food bag clutched in his hand.
Shit, shit, shit. My cheeks fried as I quickly composed myself. Angry jolts of pain zapped through my center from being robbed of a release. I squeezed my legs together and fiddled with straightening membership card pamphlets on the counter. Act normal. He doesn’t know his son just fingered me. Those long, delicious fingers—
“How’s it going up here?”
“Uneventful,” Ryan said, nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just been inside me seconds ago.
Jack looked from Ryan to me, his eyebrows furrowed. “You two look like you’re up to no good.”
I let out an awkward old-man-wheeze laugh and both DeShanes looked at me like I was certifiable.
Ryan coolly said, “As always,” and continued sorting price tags.
“Keep up the good work, guys. And Jules, keep Ryan in line.”
I coughed into my hand and couldn’t look him in the eye when I said, “Yes, sir.”
He smiled and walked back to his office. As he shut the door, I let out a sigh, my nerves buzzing like I’d taken ten doses of Adderall. Ryan was my own personal drug.
Goose bumps prickled across my skin. Holy crap, if Jack had walked into the store any sooner, Ryan and I would both be on the chopping block. How could I let it go so far at work? Every time I was around him, my mind turned to mush. Another area in my life that a college education sorely lacked in giving tips and pointers. My hormones were all out of whack after Ryan almost brought me to O-town. This job kept me in Spring Hill, and I needed to remind myself of that if something like this ever happened again. Which it wouldn’t. At least not at wo
rk.
Chapter Eighteen
Ryan
I couldn’t stop this game we’d started. The way she chewed on her bottom lip as she tightened around my finger was the official hook, line, and sinker. I’d do anything to see that look again. Hooking up at the store was a no-go, but we needed to finish what we’d started. ASAP.
Even though I didn’t need the magazine anymore, I still consulted it over my break to see what they’d suggest for their fourth step.
Step 4: Plan a fun date
Got him wanting more? Take him somewhere fun and unexpected. It can be that new pottery place in the mall (clay fights can be a sexy turn of events) or a weekend class on couples massages. Get messy and enjoy all the laughs. Clothing optional.
And I had just the perfect place to take her.
As soon as Peach clocked in and slid behind the counter after her break, I passed her a price tag.
I love seeing you squirm. Did you know that your cheeks turn the same color red as the Office Jax staplers?
She’d love that. I gave her a quick smile and then walked out onto the service floor. Pushing the limits with her proved to be more fun than anything else at Office Jax, but I wondered if I’d gone too far when she didn’t respond right away.
Her voice chimed over the intercom a few minutes later. “Ryan, please come to the Customer Service counter.” The message cut out and Backstreet Boys resumed their torture on my eardrums. I want it that way should only be used as a choice at Burger King, not relationships.
I walked back to the counter, Peach talking to an older woman clutching a purse to her chest.
“Ryan, can you help this lady with a chair?”
“Sure.” Where was my note? Shit, maybe she didn’t think that was funny. Did I misread her? Maybe she didn’t want my fingers grazing past those lace panties. I held back a groan thinking about those panties and how much I wanted to see her in just those.
I grabbed an office chair from the back for the lady and brought it to the register. At this point, I was ready to apologize. This was supposed to be fun, and now I felt like a dipshit. Just as I was about to pull out a price tag to jot down a quick sorry, Jules stuffed a price tag in my pocket, and my cock hardened at the proximity of her hand.
J: You have a dirty mouth. Maybe it needs to be cleaned out.
Game still on. I strode to the back and thought about what I’d say next. It needed to be something sexy, since I wanted to keep her interested, something to segue into asking her out. I needed her to say yes to a date tonight. She seemed to respond best when her buttons were pushed. I quickly scribbled down a response and passed it to Jules when I got to the front of the store.
R: Are you going to be the one doing the cleaning? I suggest it be done in a hot shower. I’ll bring the loofah.
J: Maybe you need to be hosed down
R: Using my hose sounds promising
J: You’re sick
Yes. Known fact, Peach. Time to go for the kill. As much as I’d love another encounter like earlier, I wanted it in the privacy of my bedroom. Or hers. I’d be down with either.
R: Want to go out after work?
J: Yes
R: I’ll pick you up at six thirty. Wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.
I parked in front of Jules’s apartment five hours later and shoved my ball cap over my head as I walked to the door. It had been a long time since I’d gone out on a real date, one that involved going out in public. And hand-holding. Did people even do that anymore? Lex hated holding hands because she said her palms got sweaty—and if she hated one thing, it was perspiring. The girl didn’t even break a sweat during sex, a red flag I should have paid attention to.
I swallowed against the tightness in my throat and knocked on the door. Get it together. It’s a date, not an execution. Date. Shit. Should I have gotten her flowers? I felt like flowers sent the wrong message since I planned on ruining her clothes with paint later tonight. I didn’t really know what prompted me to ask her out—yes, the article said fun dates were a necessity, but something told me I didn’t need to take Jules out to hook up. And yet, here I was. Standing at her door, nervous as hell. Keep it simple. No complications.
The door swung open. Jules yelled a good-bye to Payton and closed the door before I even knew what happened. “You look handsome, DeShane.” She gave me a playful shove and looked up at me with those big blue eyes that melted away any reservations I’d had. She made things easy. She gave a wink and walked off toward my car, leaving me standing in the walkway, staring at her like a Goddamn idiot. Jules was uncharted territory, throwing me off my game—no, not throwing me off, matching me.
“Thanks?” I called after her, watching her sway her hips in tight black shorts all the way to my Civic.
When we got in the car, she shifted restlessly, crossing her legs, uncrossing, then crossing again, effectively driving me crazy. “So are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Nope.” Joe’s Paint Palace was one of the best kept secrets in Spring Hill. The indoor paintball course also had a paint balloon section. Instead of using paintball guns, people threw water balloons filled with paint at each other. Much messier, but less pain. Although Peach with her pink nails wrapped around a paintball gun would be pretty damn hot.
“Not even a hint?”
“You’re gonna get wet.”
She quirked a brow.
A few minutes later we pulled into the lot. She stared up at the sign, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the place. Did I make a mistake taking her here?
“I’ve heard of this place. Don’t they do those things with the water balloons?”
“That they do.”
A squeak escaped from her lips and she patted her thighs. “I saw it in a movie once and always wanted to try it.” My stomach eased at the fact she didn’t freak out.
“Me too.”
Before I said anything else, she opened the car door and shot out of the seat. “Hurry up!”
I shook my head and stared at her as she rushed toward the entrance. Who was this girl? I took this as a win in the date choice category. Maybe I’d moved up a few notches in that spreadsheet of hers. How was this girl single? Hot, smart, and fun to be around. There had to be some catch. But for right now, with her blond hair swinging from side to side as she bounded toward the entrance, I didn’t give a shit if there was something wrong.
After paying admission, we were directed toward the paint balloon course. Large boulders bordered the arena, along with fake plants and randomly placed walls, smattered in paint, that came up to my shoulders. Swirls of unnatural neon colors coated every available surface.
Jules stood there, hands on her hips, surveying the place with a smile that lit up the entire room. Her hair was in two braided pigtails that draped over her shoulders right down to her tank top that put the swell of her breasts on display. The perfect balance of innocent and sexy. I tugged on one of her braids and said, “Ready for this?”
She smiled. “I was the water balloon champion at Brittany Reynolds’s tenth birthday party. I have the battle scars to prove it.” She shoved a pair of safety goggles over her eyes, positioning them on her face. The goggles dwarfed her face, but somehow made her look even cuter.
“I’m shaking in my boots.”
“You should be. You’re going down.”
“As I recall, wasn’t that your specialty?”
Her face flushed and she gnawed on her bottom lip. Top that, Peach.
She gave a sly smile and walked over to the crate full of balloons filled past capacity. This was going to be so messy. More so than paintballing. But it’d be worth digging paint out of my ears for the next three weeks just to see that smile on her face.
“You should only be so lucky.”
She was right. I’d give up the last bit of my tortured soul to have her lips on me. On any part of me. She could be kissing my elbow, and I’d be a happy man.
While fantasizing about Jules and that mout
h of hers, a balloon sailed through the air and pegged me square in the chest. Blood-red paint slithered down my shirt and I looked up at Jules, that infuriating brow arched, waiting for me to make the next move.
“You’ve done it now. I was going to be nice, but all bets are off.”
She squealed as I took off toward the bucket of balloons and ran to one of the barriers set up in the middle of the room, a kids’ playhouse on steroids. She pushed past the green swinging door full force, which I’d noticed was how Jules operated. Bulldoze first, ask question later. I smiled at her. Damn, she was something.
How did I go from hating everyone with two X chromosomes at the beginning of the summer to laughing and chucking water balloons at a giggling girl?
I shook my head. Too deep, too much to process. Keep it light, dipshit. Light wouldn’t destroy my out-of-commission heart. Zeroing in on the play structure, I barreled through seconds later, balancing an armload of balloons in my arms.
She wasn’t anywhere in the small playhouse when I rushed in. I looked left and right. The only way out was the door I came in. Where the hell did she go? Before I could leave, balloons rained down rapid-fire from above. Blue and purple paint splattered my goggles, running down my face. I swiped at the plastic, trying to get a better view of where the assault came from. She sat perched atop the wall. How the hell did she get up there so fast? Shit, she was like some ninja warrior.
“I told you. Water balloon champion. Surrender yet?” She tossed a balloon nonchalantly in her hand.
I chucked a red balloon at her legs, green paint smattering her thighs and her black shorts. “I haven’t even begun.”
She swiveled and jumped off the wall, landing somewhere outside the structure, out of sight. I barreled through the door and started chucking balloons at her retreating figure, pegging her in the ass with pink paint. She let out a little squeak and ran to a mound of fake plants, ducking behind them.
“You can run, but you can’t hide.” I caught myself laughing, feeling more at ease than I ever had been around a girl. Maybe this date thing wasn’t such a bad idea.
Foolproof Page 10
