by Emily James
Six said my name.
Six just said my breast were ‘perfectly perky.’
Six said my breasts were ‘magnificent.’
I remove the dopey smile from my face, aware that Six can probably see the effect of his words and glance down to check. As if to confirm their approval of his description, my nipples ping to attention. I look at Six, who nods and gives them a thumb up.
The room is suddenly too warm, and I fan myself and shake my head at this strange turn of events.
“Joanie my darling, swan duck. I’m sorry, of course you can do without that Chris boy. I did always think he was a little too serious, a bit straight laced. Personally, I prefer a little more kink. Nevertheless, if you decide on the breasts, let them be our gift to you. I’ve never looked back since I got mine nor had so many men stop and stare.” My mother winks, probably not even noticing the cringed look upon my face. “Now, tell me all about this handsome neighbour. He is a dish! How long have you been screwing him, and is he any good?”
Even though she cannot see him, my mother must be able to hear Six chuckling at my side as his hand idly squeezes my thigh and massages my ache.
“Mum, I really have to go. We’ll speak later. I love you lots.” I hang up before any more dangerous words can leave my mother’s mouth.
“So, your mum’s hot and a little bonkers. I can see where you get it from, Joanie.” Six winks and cocks his head. I shake my head and close my eyes.
Trust Six to say my name like it’s coated in chocolate and rolled in nuts.
SIX’S HAND SLIDES UNDER the cover and up the leg of my shorts as he kneels over me. One hundred and eighty pounds of ripped, hard muscle with a side of soft dark hair that I can’t wait to drag my fingers through hovers just inches above me. His eyes are solid black and hungry as he breathes my name into my mouth.
“Joanie, I want you.”
I swallow hard. His breath is a mint-coffee ice cream, cool and teasing on my neck as he moves to tell me, “I need you.”
“I need you too,” I say gripping his shoulder and closing my eyes as I part my lips in preparation for his kiss.
“Joanie, you’re dribbling again...”
What?
He gently shakes my shoulder and tells me, “Joanie, you’re needed.”
“What?” I open my eyes and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. He’s right, definite case of the drools.
“You fell asleep. I think you were dreaming. You said my name. It was kind of cute, if I’m honest.”
Six looks over from the other end of the sofa, snuggled under Chesney with my legs across his lap. He looks like he just woke up too; there’s pillow creases marking the olive skin of his cheek.
I shake my dirty dream and the need to smooth his cheek from my mind and instead ask, “You said I was needed?”
“Your video calling has been ringing.”
I wearily try to stretch out my leg and butt, which feels like it’s seized up and been replaced by rusty iron. I look over at the still open laptop resting on the coffee table. It starts to bleep a ring again.
“Someone called Wayne apparently really wants to talk to you,” Six says, wearing a look on his face that I don’t recognise. Not his usual cocky smirk, sarcastic frown, or sexy smile; it’s darker, like he’s angry.
“Who’s Wayne?” I ask, as if Six would know.
It starts to bleep and ring again. Six picks up the laptop and places it on my lap. “Why don’t you answer it and see.”
I gulp. I don’t like the cross tone in his voice.
Beep, beep, beep...
Six taps a key and the call connects. A man suddenly blinks to life on my screen. Mid-thirties, five o-clock scruff stretched over a looking hard jaw. I can just see the neck muscles that stretch out to his shoulders. I look over at Six, not sure what’s going on because I’m still feeling half-asleep.
“Uh, hello...” An unfamiliar deep voice fills my lounge.
Six’s eyes snap to the screen of my laptop causing me to gulp like a naughty teenager, even though I have no idea why I feel so guilty.
“Hello...” I reply, still unsure what is going on.
“Joanie? Hi, I’m Wayne, Melinda’s friend. She said she texted you and that you’d be expecting me to call for a Skype date. I’m working in Iceland, not back until the end of the month. She said you’d hurt yourself and would enjoy a little online date, which suits me. Is now a good time?”
I look at Six; his face is hard with a visible tick in his jaw. He studies me with such intensity it makes me so self-conscious I adjust my hair.
“So, I’m Wayne. I work on an oil rig, deep sea diving. Joanie, I go pretty deep and I can hold my breath for over two minutes.” Wayne chuckles, clearly thinking he’s funny. He’s not. Six is funny, though. Six is strong too and carries me as if I'm light as air, and kisses me as though our lives depend on it. In fact, I’d bet Six could go pretty deep too. My hand clamps over my mouth, afraid I might have said my thought aloud.
I cringe.
I’m having date number seven while having dirty thoughts of Six, who’s sitting right beside me. They say seven is supposed to be lucky, but this date feels like the worst luck in the whole world.
I stroke away the frown on my face.
Wayne continues, but all I see is Six’s jaw tick from the corner of my eye. I can feel the heat and tension radiating from his body.
“I wish I could see you, Joanie. Can you stand, so I can look at you? Melinda said you’re super hot, and I can tell she’s not wrong. Move your hand down a little, so I can see you.”
God this is awkward. I move my hand from my mouth. It rests on my heart, which is thumping out of my chest at an alarming rate. I’m about to say thank you, but now is not a good time for a video date. I’m not sure there will ever be a good time.
Wayne nibbles on his lip and his hand moves under the desk in front of him.
Before I get the chance to say that I’m cancelling our date, he continues, “Good girl, that’s it move your hand. Lower; lift up your top; let me see you touch yourself. God, I’m getting hard just...”
My head pops back from the screen as my mind catches up to what Wayne’s dirty little game is.
Six grabs the laptop and forces it shut, slamming it on the coffee table. He swings my legs carefully but swiftly aside and stands, then paces.
“Do you even realise the danger you are putting yourself in? Do you even know who any of these losers are, Four? When are you going to quit this stupid dating game? Wayne the Wanker just video booty called you!”
“I didn’t... Lots of people go on blind dates. I wasn’t expecting the video call. My phone is...” Still in hiding thanks to my indecent camera skills... “Never mind that. How the hell was I supposed to know he was going to video call me?” The tone of my voice increases by quite a few octaves. I’m angry that he’s blaming me. “It’s not as if I planned this. Melinda insisted on the dates and they’ve all been terrible, but what am I to do? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. I don’t even like cats, Six! The last thing in the world I wanted was to be woken from that dream, by Wayne the Weirdo!”
“What dream?” Six stops pacing and his head twists to study my face, which floods with heat.
I study the paintball wound on my wrist, unable to make eye contact and wondering what to say to him that doesn’t involve recalling my sexy little dream.
Six’s face comes closer to mine, the heat of his breath sends shivers down my neck and a surge of heat to other, harder to reach places. Six lifts my chin so my eyes meet his. My heart hammers in my chest as he asks me again, “What dream?”
My thoughts jumble around inside my head, distracted by his presence. All I see is his beauty, all I feel is the intense range of emotions I have for him. The feeling of wanting to push him away, yet also wishing I could wrap myself around him is driving me insane.
He comes closer, waiting for my answer. He’s so close, just inches from my mouth as he
continues to wait. His close proximity fogs my brain and my words are incoherent as they slip from my lips.
“You, kissing... hard...”
Six must understand my description because he crushes his mouth on mine. His lips are soft yet firm against my own, parting my lips and his tongue deliciously staging a search and rescue from within my own mouth. My tongue willingly surrenders and we engage in the hottest of all slow dances.
Six’s hand moves from my chin up into my hair, while he supports his weight with his other hand. My own hands ball in his T-shirt, so much so, I barely register my intent until I am pulling his T-shirt over his head and flinging it on the floor. As we are broken away from the intensity of our kiss, for just a moment, my eyes are torn between his mesmerizing body and the lure of his mouth. Six pulls me back in to taste my lips and unable to resist, I comply with enthusiasm. My fingers are frantic and frenzied on his arms, shoulders, and then his chest. They glide down to his abs and the valleys beside them, guiding my hands toward the Promised Land.
Six’s hands slowly wander down to the hem of my shirt, distracting me from the task about to be in hand. Every inch of my body has suddenly come alive and demands his attention as his thumb skims my waist and moves to my navel. The feeling is so achingly good, I groan begging for more and lean up into his reach. Six responds to my request and hooks his hands underneath my knees, flipping my legs around him, readying us both for action, which... is a fatal, catastrophic error.
“AAOOOWWEEEEEE...” The howl rips through me like an animal seconds before it becomes road kill.
The muscles in my ass clench and retract, as if pummelled by a wrecking ball, the second my broken ass meets the fabric of the sofa.
“Shit! Sorry, Four I forgot.” Six holds me under my arms, his face examining mine. The pain is so acute I feel like I might actually pass out. “Dammit, you’ve gone pale again. The blood has drained right out from your face.”
I can’t breathe. It hurts so bad I feel like I might actually pee. Six lowers me down gently as I arch my body so I don’t sit directly on my broken ass. When I’m finally able to breathe, Six sits opposite me, back in his chair.
“So, I guess we’re thinking third time lucky?” he says crossing his fingers. “Can I get you anything? Some pain relief, maybe?”
“No, I’m fine,” I say, mourning my stolen orgasm.
Chapter 13
SIX AND I RELAX INTO the afternoon. He nipped out for a while to check on his business and came back with some soup. The whole time my body throbbed for release. I actually felt like a bomb ready to detonate. So much so that when a train went past the house earlier, it almost rocked more than my building.
Six serves me the soup. When he bends to put it on my lap, the desire to bite his tight, muscular ass almost takes over me. I’m twitchy and irritable and I know there is only one thing that will help. Well, two things, but one is sitting in a box under my bed and the other is walking around my apartment like a barefoot male model.
Dignity, Joanie. Remember your dignity.
After he’s cleaned up, he brings me coffee and I complain I’m bored. More horny than bored, but I decide it’s probably safer to tell him I’m bored.
“I bought you something,” Six says, and hands me some magazines. He then relaxes back in his chair, socks off and feet on the coffee table about to read his book.
“Seriously? Urghh. I’m going to go crazy after a week of this!” I ungratefully whine.
“You know, Four, you are a terrible patient. Read, it’ll help take your mind off... things.” Six shifts uncomfortably in his chair and it dawns on me he probably has blue balls too. The thought revives my earlier yearning and a cruel throbbing intensifies, and I’m not referring to the one in my butt.
I huff and randomly open the magazine. It falls on the crossword page. I take the pen from the side table and chew on it as I consider my next move.
“Hmm. Six across, male ejaculation. Any ideas?” I ask innocently.
Six almost drops his book and looks at me quizzically. “Have you tried semen?” he asks.
“I’d love to...” I pause and a grin toys on my lips. “But it’s too many letters...”
“Come?”
Yes please.
“That might work,” I say. I put the pen in my mouth, purely for effect. I hear Six swallow and I smile. Six lifts his coffee to his lips. His dark eyes fixed on mine.
“Seven down, an intense feeling. Starts with an O?”
Six almost spits his coffee. He covers his surprise with a manly, hand over mouth cough and rests his cup back on the table.
“I know what you’re doing. You, Four are a tease and you’re torturing me. I’m looking forward to torturing you right back, once you’re healed. I think I’ll probably start by spanking you to teach you a lesson. This time, I think I’ll make you wear the blindfold.” His eyebrows arch and heat explodes inside of me like a flare. Six grins as if he knows he’s hitting the spot. “Let’s move on to safer ground, huh? Let’s get to know one another, me first.”
I nod. Second to touching more of Six is my desire to know more.
“That bloke I saw you in the foyer with, was that your ex?”
“Yes. That was Chris. He’s gone to New York to develop and re-launch his app, Sexy—Talk—Dating. You might have heard of it?” I say dismissively, hardly anyone has heard of it.
“Sexy—Talk—Dating? He called his app Sexy—Talk—Dating?” Six laughs and out of sheer habit I start to defend it by saying; it is a difficult market to break...
“S.T.D!” Six howls with laughter, clutching his sides and laying back in the chair.
“Oh my God. S.T.D!” How did I never realise. I cry with laughter, despite the pain it creates. We both giggle and snort as whole minutes pass by. “I can’t believe I never saw that!” As our laughs pitter out and we dry our faces, I add, “I think I knew he wasn’t the guy for me, you know, you get stuck in these situations and they roll on.” I dismiss the woe me and make good on Six’s promise to get to know each other. “My turn, what brought you here, to Buckholme House?”
“That’s complicated...”
“No backing out, Six. I told you about my boyfriend’s S.T.D, it’s only fair.”
Six picks up his coffee cup, takes a long drink and then nods his agreement. “Fair comment, Four. I guess it’s quite cliché, really. I met a woman and moved to New York to be with her. I had a restaurant that was doing okay, and then my fiancée shagged my headwaiter. We broke up, they got together and let’s just say the city lost its charm for me.” Six takes another slug of his coffee, his eyes measuring my reaction.
“I guess heartbreak will take the shine off a place...” I glance around my apartment. It could do with a freshen up, but I still love it just as much as the day I got the keys, further evidence that my heart was not broken by Chris.
“My heart wasn’t... Four, I’m a successful, self-assured guy. I was annoyed, yes, but heartbroken, no. Gabby wasn’t the girl for me. My mum got sick and truth be told, when shit goes down, you sometimes realise home is where the heart is.” Six finishes his coffee, deep in thought.
“Is your mum okay?”
“She died of breast cancer. I think you might have seen me the night of the wake; I was a little... out of sorts.” I think back to the night of his sexy dance, the night Twenty comforted him, or did she just take advantage of him? I also remember what a cow I’ve been to him since.
“Six, I’m so sorry. I... I haven’t been kind to you had I known I would have...”
“Baked me some cookies?” Six laughs. “It’s okay, Four. Frankly, you’ve been some light relief during a dark time; a pleasant distraction.”
“Was Twenty also a pleasant distraction?” I ask and immediately wish I could drag back the words and pop the green-eyed monster back in her cage.
“I guess she was... of a different kind.”
I’m trying to work out exactly what that means when the front door slams agains
t the wall and a familiar voice sings, “Hello, hello, Nurse Melinda is here to beat you to death for not answering your phone!”
Melinda walks in loaded with grocery bags and a bunch of yellow tulips. “For the invalid!” she says and dumps the bags on the coffee table. Six is able to rescue his cup just in time. “Right, I’ve brought you soup, bread, milk, coffee—the good stuff—not that crap you buy, eggs—from the happy hens in my garden, bacon—from the unhappy dead ones at the abattoir—hopefully the pigs won’t haunt you, and I picked up some more painkillers. How is the patient?” Melinda checks with Six, not me.
“Impatient and whiny but less so than yesterday,” Six says, grinning to Melinda.
“I am not whiny! I have a serious injury and can barely walk. Not that you would know for all the sympathy it’s gotten me.”
“I did warn you she’d be whiny. When she had her tonsils out, she moved in with me. Joanie has a lower pain threshold than my two-year-old. Thanks for taking care of her. Have you eaten?”
I explain that we have, and Melinda turns into a tornado, dusting and cleaning and making fresh coffee. As she sips her own coffee, she chats and sends texts and emails. Then, she puts my laundry in the machine and appears in the lounge, holding my phone.
“What was this doing in your laundry basket?” she asks.
Six eyes the device carefully and then looks at me with a grin spreading across his face.
“Well, you see, I um...” I try to explain, but my mind is consumed by the knowledge that there is a very naked picture of a very hot Six on that phone. Thank God it wasn’t washed clean.
“It was very dirty, wasn’t it, Four? Filthy, even. Wouldn’t you say?” Six says looking from me to the phone.
I bite my lip and close my eyes. It’s as if wherever Six is, my humiliation is not far behind.
