by Hadley Quinn
I swallowed the bite I’d taken. “You mean money, house, cars—those things? He took a car, and I took a car; everything else I sold just to get rid of it. He moved out almost a year ago, and I stayed until the house sold. Closed a few days ago and split the little bit that was made.”
“So you’re doing okay financially, right?”
“I’m fine.” My pride had spit that out a bit defensively, so in a softer tone I added, “Things are fine now, yes.”
He studied me like he was determining how truthful that was. “I’m just making sure you’re okay, Jo.”
I let the conversation dissipate into nothing. I wanted to argue that it wasn’t his job to care about my circumstances, but that was not what I desired to talk about. Anything in relation to Chris twisted the bitterness in my chest, and I had to force myself to smother it down.
Josh stayed longer than I expected. We finished eating, watched an entire movie, and carried some neutral exchanges about Indiana Jones and classic key elements of the plot. We even finished off the gelato I had in the freezer. Josh still wasn’t the zealous young man I’d once known. He hardly smiled, didn’t laugh a single time, and basically acted like he was just biding his time for something better.
It worried me. I wasn’t used to that type of man in my life. His mysterious demeanor was affecting me by the minute and left me wondering if I was supposed to solve him or just walk away.
When he got up to use the bathroom, I took the opportunity to practice deep breathing, coaching myself to relax. I had no idea I’d been so tense the past couple of hours.
The toilet flushed, and the sink turned on and off. I inhaled two more deep breaths before the door opened and he stepped into the hallway.
“Jolie,” he said in a low, teasing voice. “Let’s talk about this.”
In his hand was—you guessed it—the motherfucking vibrator. He was holding it chest-high, wagging it back and forth.
“Oh, my God,” I exclaimed, covering my face. “Put that away! Put it back! Where the…?” I dropped my hands and stared at him, too embarrassed to say another word.
He sauntered into the living room, still eyeing me mischievously, holding the damn thing in his hand. “Well, if you didn’t want me to see it, you shouldn’t have left it on the bathroom counter.”
Shit. He was right. I’d finally pulled it out of the bag earlier to see what it was all about. I didn’t use it, but why the fuck didn’t I put it away?
“It’s not even mine,” I blurted out. He raised both eyebrows that time. “I mean it is, but it’s not…I didn’t…I didn’t buy it. It was a gift. For Valentine’s Day.”
That time, he narrowed his eyes. “A gift from who?”
Oh. That was defensive. It made me second-guess his recurrent aloofness with me. Jealousy? I think I was gloating on the inside with a tiny victory. “A friend from work. Why does it matter?”
He disregarded the question as he strode further across the room, tapping the goddamn vibrator against his other hand. He stopped in front of me where I was still shrinking with humiliation on the couch. His eyes still on the pink penis, he asked, “Is this something you fancy in your spare time, JoJo?”
My face probably flushed a deeper shade of mortification, but I replied, “What I do in my spare time is none of your business.”
That eyebrow arched again and intrigue spanned his face. “Is that so? What if…I choose to make it my business?”
My body betrayed me when my insides rippled with interest. And if he didn’t stop looking at me like that, I couldn’t be held responsible for my physical reactions.
Josh lowered himself to the couch until he was sitting next to me. My heart started to race when he put his hand on my thigh and scooted even closer. “Tell me what you like to do with this, Jo,” he baited.
Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom. My stupid heart wouldn’t shut the hell up. As calmly as I could, I answered, “I wouldn’t know because I’ve never used it.”
A flame flickered in his dark eyes. It caused my entire heart to shudder and my skin to prickle with heat. I’d always loved his eyes, but these days, they tended to stir my soul with something new. I was afraid of their power and the amount of lust I felt whenever he looked at me.
That was something entirely new.
“Maybe you need to…relax a bit,” he suggested provocatively, setting his arm on the couch behind me. He leaned toward me to run his lips along my cheekbone. “Let me help you with that.”
My body replied to each of his words. From the moment he kissed my mouth to the subtlety of him removing my pajama bottoms, I gave him permission with every sound and movement that escaped me.
“You’re beautiful, Jo,” he whispered against my lips.
His fingers slipped into my panties, and the second he pressed them between my legs, I could feel my arousal slick against him. He kissed me harder as two fingers entered me, his tongue delving deep in exploration as his thumb pressed against my clit, and just like the week before, my body surrendered to his touch.
But that time, he stopped before I released and pulled my hips closer to the edge of the couch. As he knelt to the floor, he removed my panties with one easy movement, and with an indicative smile on his face, brought the vibrator to life.
Well shit, I’d forgotten he even had it. But before my nerves could take over, he opened my legs and pressed the tip of it against my pussy. My body jolted the moment the vibration hit my clit, and a pleased smile developed across his face.
I just couldn’t even believe this was the same Josh I dated for four months in high school. I’d never witnessed such a sexual side to him and never in a million years imagined him getting me off in a parking lot with just his hand.
Or stripping me half-naked to tease my lady junk with a vibrator.
He repositioned himself so he could kiss me again, and I couldn’t even understand how my desire for him tripled with just that added sensation. I wanted him to consume me with more—things I’d never experienced or even thought to experience. I wanted him to take control and give them to me.
Maybe it was what I needed.
As the pressure of his lips and tongue increased against mine, so did the vibrator. Their passion for me amplified simultaneously, but as I felt the tip enter me, Josh slightly disengaged to assess my reaction.
I palmed his neck and pulled him back. “Don’t you dare stop,” I gasped, surprised by the demand in my own voice.
He claimed my mouth again, introducing the vibration deeper into my body. Both hands were gripping him now while he pulsed that battery-operated piece of bliss in and out, the intensity winding tight, ready to shatter.
“Oh, God,” I panted when a million nerve endings exploded in celebration. I could feel relief hit as I rode one contracting wave after another, conflicted with the desire to keep going but not sure if my body could handle it.
Josh decided for me when he didn’t stop, and I hadn’t realized I had another orgasm lying in wait for the next wave. He laid me on the couch, one leg propped up on the back of it and the other resting on the floor. I didn’t realize how weak my lower body was until my legs quivered, but before I knew it, he was kissing me again and another liberating release hit.
When I opened my eyes, I could only stare at the ceiling. Making eye contact with him was not an option. But his movement forced my eyes his direction. I watched him reach for my panties and tuck them under me as he slid the toy from my body, and that’s when I realized the term “hot mess” could mean something else.
Out of impulse, I seized the pink dick from his hand and then stared at it stupidly, not sure what the hell I was supposed to do at that point.
Josh stood, gave me a tiny smile, and said, “Here baby, allow me.” He took it again without waiting for my reply and then handed me my bottoms.
I watched him walk off with my vibrator—an unwanted gift that was now coated with the excitement he’d mastered right out of me. He was so nonchalant about it that I chose
not to reflect on the messy details, especially because the word baby wouldn’t stop echoing in my head.
He’d called me baby.
I quickly made use of my panties so I could slip on my bottoms without them. They remained grossly wadded in a wet mess in my fist when Josh came out of the bathroom, winked at me, and said he’d catch me later.
Catch me later?
The second the door shut behind him, I raced to the bathroom to check on the fate of my new little sex friend. It was lying on the counter, clean and dry.
What world was I in? Josh Cameron had just fucked me with a pink vibrating dick and then left my apartment with what was probably the worst exit line ever.
If I died that very second, I didn’t know if I’d die happy or horrified.
~11~
“What do you mean what do you do with it?” Anna gaped. “Like, how to wash it? Didn’t you read the instruction manual?”
“I didn’t exactly have a reason to,” I snapped. “How was I supposed to know my ex-boyfriend was going to help himself to my pink diddler, and diddle me with it? Twice.”
Her eyes widened before shaking her head. “Okay, okay, I forgive you of your innocence because obviously that setback has now been amended. But hot damn, Jolie,” she giggled. “Thatta girl!”
I’d worked an entire shift without spilling my guts to her, and seriously, it’d been difficult. Josh and his prowess the night before had been recycling through my thoughts all damn day.
“I am kinda concerned that he most likely went home and beat himself off, though,” she added. “Choked the chicken, tamed the cobra. Without you. Doesn’t that seem weird?”
Okay, that had bothered me, too. After I’d showered and took myself to bed, I wondered what it would have been like to have him between my sheets if he’d stayed. And that caused me to start wondering why he didn’t take the opportunity to fulfill the urge.
“Unless…”
“Unless what?” I hissed, trying not to let anyone else hear as we walked out the back door together.
“He didn’t even give you a chance to offer, right? You didn’t even see it.”
His dick? Was she talking about his dick?
“What if it’s not that impressive?” she continued while walking toward our cars. “What if he’s got a tiny little pecker and was too embarrassed to let you see it? What if he has nasty boils on his balls, or worse? Or what if he can’t, you know, function down there? A few too many hits to the junk over the years?”
I’ll admit, she got me panicking just a bit. The fact that Josh had just left like that was bothersome. I’d talked myself into believing it was because of how different he was these days. Maybe he just liked to fuck-and-duck, even though we hadn’t exactly gotten that far.
Maybe I didn’t turn him on at all.
But then my senses returned, and I recalled very vividly he could function just fine in the southern region. The night in the parking lot was proof. “There’s nothing wrong with his dick,” I debated. “I’ve felt it, and it was rock hard. And…it definitely wasn’t tiny.”
“Then he wants you to think about what he did to you and beg him for more.”
I stopped in the middle of the lot and laughed sarcastically. “Whatever—”
“Now is not the time to dispute my advice, Jo. He wants to screw the living hell out of you but wants you to beg for it. I’ve been there, and trust me, how do you think Emma came along?”
I raised my eyebrows but chose to dismiss that particular conversation, especially since she began lecturing me on the importance of never letting a guy have that sort of advantage.
“I don’t care how much you want him, honey. You gotta make yourself unavailable for the next couple of weeks. Make use of that vibrating piece of Heaven. I know I said go and get him, but I’ve changed my mind. He’s a dirty little bastard and wants you to know it. And hey, I enjoy those dirty bastard types, but you gotta build your resistance until you’ve got a game plan.”
Sadly, Anna was right. I wouldn’t have thought twice about giving the old Josh my time and attention, but this new version of him had me in different territory altogether.
I needed to know what I was dealing with.
She put her hand on my shoulder and looked me square in the eye. “I’m not normally one to play games, but you need to trust me on this. Don’t see him for at least a week. If he calls or messages you, don’t ignore him but just be too busy. This guy needs to give you more than headaches and orgasms, okay?”
I would have laughed, but the two truly did go together.
The only reason I took Anna’s advice was because I agreed with it. I really did want more from Josh because I believed he was capable of giving it. Gone was our innocent high school rapport. I knew that. We were now both well into adulthood and had already broken new ground when it came to our association with each other.
Sexual association.
I needed to respect my worth and hold off until I knew more about this man from my past, no matter how much gratification he’d given me.
When I got home that night, I felt inspired to do some writing. My blog wasn’t anything spectacular, but I enjoyed having it as an outlet for my random thoughts. I was lost and broken when I found out Chris was having an affair, and a few months later, started writing to purge the hurt and anger. It helped, and what I’d originally started as a private journal had turned into a public chronicle instead.
My blog was called “Death of a Mediocre Marriage.” I only had nine subscribers, but hey, nine people signed up for my blog posts. Nine people were interested in what I had to say.
And they were nine people who had no idea who I was. I wrote as “Average Jo,” and although my stories and experiences were real, I did change names to keep my own identity private. The last thing I needed was for my life to be picked apart by strangers—or worse, friends and family.
That night’s blog entry turned out to be a bit different from any of my previous ones. I guess my life had somewhat progressed from the grievous downfall of my marriage and was currently in the clumsy and humorous “dating again” phase. I’d shared the experiences I’d had with Boxer—changing his name—and even the guys at table six—also with new identities.
I’d even mentioned Josh in my last blog entry titled “The High School Sweetheart Returns…But He’s Not So Sweet Anymore.” In my stories, I called him Jock. I had no solid thoughts on choosing the name; it’s what typed itself into the story. So far, Jock had been angsty and mysterious, but tonight’s Jock was the one from the couch, and he was a dirtier specimen.
I wasn’t too keen on documenting the obscenest details of our encounters, so I was translucent with the general idea. Nobody had to guess the end result, but I certainly didn’t say that I’d creamed all over the place and had to use my own underwear to wipe it up.
That might fall into a different writing category.
When I finished typing the last bit of it—my thoughts on the incident and what I was going to do next—I made sure it was well-edited and posted it for my nine subscribers.
The nine strangers who currently knew I was craving my ex-boyfriend for the second time in a week.
~
“I can’t believe you never inherited the geek gene,” Clark shamed me, playfully shaking his head in disgust. “You’re missing an entire world of awesomeness.”
“Correct yourself, cousin. I have an entire pajama set with some of these weirdos on it.”
“I got you those. That doesn’t even count.”
“Sure it does. Geek by association.”
He teetered his head back and forth in consideration. “Okay. Maybe for today.” He pointed to a comic book displayed behind the counter. “That one.”
Clark was my closest relative other than my brother. He was two years older than me and lived over an hour away, but we had a lot in common. Well, except a fetish for comic books and video games. He shared that obsession with Drew.
My brother,
the sweet and geeky athlete.
“I can’t believe baby brother is turning twenty-one,” Clark said after asking the clerk to show him the book. “Seems like just yesterday we put green dots all over his skin while he was sleeping and told him he had a deadly disease.”
I chuckled at the memory. Poor Drew. He’d bawled like a baby that day. Five years old and we convinced him he was slowly morphing into a cucumber.
I was a horrible sister.
“He’s never forgiven me for that,” I said as I browsed through an arrangement of lanyards. “When I first met a few of his college friends, they even said, ‘Oh, you’re the one who made him think he was going to be chopped up into a salad.’ Yeah, I came with preconceived judgment.”
Clark laughed. “It’s amazing Drew turned out to be such a good kid. We could have really fucked him up.”
“True. But I think Autumn instilled that fear in him.”
He nodded in agreement. “No shit. Your parents had their hands full with her.”
I thought about my sister while we browsed the hole-in-the-wall comic store Clark brought me to for my brother’s birthday present. It was hard to believe Autumn grew up in the same family as Drew and me. But I suppose she possessed innate qualities that couldn’t be redirected by a certain upbringing. She’d been the wild, rebellious, promiscuous one out of the Chambers kids.
Autumn was extremely smart, though. She just skipped a lot of school, and her disrespect for authority got in the way of academic success at that age. However, she seemed to make it in the business world easily. Never mind she slept her way to the top, but she still had the brains to thrive in any career she chose.
“Ninety-four, fifty-six,” the cashier stated upon checkout.
I blinked at him, the two items on the counter, and then at Clark. “Seriously? A comic book that’s almost eighty bucks?”
Clark shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Limited edition.”
I knew my brother would love both gifts so I sucked it up and forked over the cash. The cashier carefully slid the plastic-encased comic into a bag, dropped the lanyard in with it, and handed it back with my receipt.
