Crazy Sexy Love

by Alison G. Bailey

  I thought so.

  “I really have to go pee now.” She walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

  I stood frozen and dumbfounded.

  I stared at the door, expecting her to reappear any second, telling me she was just playing a little joke on me. Little? What if she thought my dick was subpar? No way. That was impossible. I felt her trembles and heard her animal noises. Sophie wasn’t the type to hand out pity sex noises. A second later the door cracked open. I knew it. She had been messing with me.

  “Doug, don’t forget to take your jeans.” The door shut.

  My blood boiled. “Keep the fucking jeans! They weren’t able to contain my mighty python anyway!”

  Silence.

  “Sophie, did you hear me?! Mighty! Python!”

  No response. I spun around and walked toward the door, tripping over the fucking jeans on my way out.

  I SAT WITH the menu open in front of me, making it look like I was trying to decide what to have for lunch. The warm breeze coming off the water relaxed me a bit. I settled back into the chair on the deck seating of the Charleston Crab House and stared at the gulls dive-bombing into the Wappoo Creek. Bryson was meeting me for lunch but was running a little late, which was fine by me. It gave me more alone time to wrap my head around last night.

  I stayed in the bathroom until I thought the coast was clear. Seeing as how I didn’t hear any more of Doug’s yammering, I felt it was safe to resurface. Like a little weenie, I crept back into my room, quickly closing and locking the door. I crawled back into bed and was immediately hit with the scent of Doug… of Doug and me… of me and Doug. Every time I breathed in the aroma of mint, coconut, and sex, my mind drifted to how it felt to be with him.

  The things he did to me… the way he touched me, kissed me, and brought me to heights of pleasure I had thus far not experienced in past encounters with others. But when it was over and he looked into my eyes, his fingertips running down my face, I got overwhelmed. So I bolted and hid until I had time to process.

  We both knew what we were doing. No way could alcohol be blamed for a lapse in judgment. Living with Doug hadn’t turned out the way I expected. I thought we’d live fairly separate lives, rarely running into each other. Nothing could be further from the truth. Without me asking, he took it upon himself to brighten my grandmother’s day and restock her snack drawer while I was out of town. He not only got my car back but bought me new tires. Sure at first I thought that was weird. But it was his way of making sure I was safe. Then seeing him with Hope broke me down completely.

  I have no one to blame but myself. I was the one who threw myself at him. A real friendship was forming, and I went and fucked it up, all because I was a sucker for his caring and thoughtfulness. Not to mention that my hormones had been all over the place lately. What I should have done was call one of the guys I usually call when I’m feeling frisky. But that would have meant me having to leave the house since I never bring a guy home. With Doug I had instant access, same day delivery, and convenience. Doug was the Amazon Prime of sex.

  I startled when Bryson suddenly plopped down across from me.

  “Sorry, I’m late. Mom had to tell me some juicy gossip about my cousin, Sharon. She’s always been snooty and thinks she’s better than everyone else. Anyway, it appears that cuz has gone and gotten herself some vaginal rejuvenation.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “My understanding is that older women and/or ones who’ve gone through childbirth are the most likely partakers. Sharon is our age and has no kids. But since high school, she’s been an open book.” Bryson held her hands as if she were praying, spread the fingers apart, while keeping the wrists together, miming a vagina. “If you know what I mean? The story goes, she brags to anyone who will listen about how all the men will be flocking to her new designer vagina. Or as I like to say it, designa vagina.” A hearty laugh took over her body. “Anyway, the first guy to experience it, said it looked like a cross between Mick Jagger and a Shar Pei. You know, the dog. Isn’t that hilarious?”

  “Side-splitting,” I said more sarcastically than intended.

  “Creeps, what’s your problem?”

  “Sorry. I’m just in a mood.”

  “How’s the new job going?” she said while looking at her menu.

  “Well, considering I only started it four hours ago, pretty good.”

  “Still having issues with that female exec?”

  “She thought spreading gossip that I’d slept my way to the top would prevent me from getting the promotion. Her little plan epically backfired. Now we’re on the same level and she’s backtracking, kissing my ass. What happened to hashtag, women stop fucking over other women?”

  “I’m not exactly up on my hashtag knowledge, but I don’t think that was ever one of them. You’re going to have to find a way to work together and leave the personal stuff out of it.”

  “I know,” I agreed.

  “You should make up a list of rules for her to follow. Remember when we were kids you did that all the time.”

  “I did not,” I protested.

  Bryson looked at me half shocked and half amused. “You so did. Especially when you were pissed off at me.”

  “For example?”

  “Does the seven in one dream ensemble trunk mean anything to you?”

  “Um… no.”

  “The seven in one dream ensemble trunk was made up of a white sparkly dress, a skirt, two sashes, purple and white sleevelets, net skirt, veil, and wings. You could dress up like a princess, an angel, and a bride. The combinations were endless.”

  “Jesus,” I mumbled.

  “The rule was, for every piece of dreamy clothing you’d let me wear, I had to let you play with my Easy Bake Oven and Snack Center.”

  “That seems reasonable to me.”

  It was as if we were those seven-year-old girls again.

  “The reasonable and fair thing would have been for you to give me the entire trunk to play with and I let you use my Easy Bake Oven and Snack Center. I had to replace the heating element in my oven three times before I got one ensemble put together. Not to mention, you didn’t then and still don’t like to bake.”

  “First off, it was a light bulb. It’s not like you had to do major electrical work. And wow, you’re pretty psychotic about this.”

  “No. I’m only trying to point out how adamant you are about your rules. Don’t even get me started on the whole Slip n’ Slide protocol.”

  “I had seen you two days before at Tamara Nixon’s pool. You puked up an entire peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Cheetos, and cherry Kool-Aid all the way down her waterslide.”

  “I told you, not more than five minutes earlier, Tommy Simpson had held me under in the pool. I gulped down a gallon of water, chlorine, and probably some of Tommy Simpson’s pee.”

  “I couldn’t take the chance.”

  “You love to make rules. It keeps things in order and gives you a sense of control,” she said.

  “So what if I do? What’s so bad about that?”

  “Nothing. I was just making a point.”

  “Point taken. Thanks,” I sneered playfully.

  I waved the waitress over and she took our order.

  “So, if it’s not work, what’s bothering you? Is your grandmother okay?”

  I chuckled. “She’s more than okay. She has a male friend.”

  “Get it, Nonnina. Did Doug do something?” Bryson said.

  Boy, did he.

  “I’m tired is all.”

  She eyed me wearily. “I’ll take your word for it… for now anyway. So the camping trip…”

  “Camping trip?”

  Bryson made it a point to show me her eye roll. “Yes, we’re all going on a weekend camping trip to the North Carolina Mountains. Please tell me you’re not going to bail.”

  “No. I just forgot it was coming up so soon.”

  “Hart and the guys are taking care of all the equipment. Between me, y
ou and Julia the food will be covered.” I looked at her with a raised brow. “And when I say food from you, I mean wine.”

  “I can do that.”

  For the rest of the lunch, Bryson went down the plans for the big trip. I’d never admit it to her, but I had forgotten all about the upcoming getaway. Currently, other things were occupying my mind. I wanted so desperately to talk to my best friend about what happened. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words even though I knew she’d understand. Maybe if Doug wasn’t Hart’s best friend, I’d be okay with it. While Bryson switched topics, telling me the latest Hope story, something dawned on me. Maybe I could have my cake and eat it too.

  If I implemented a set of rules with Doug, maybe the incredible sex could continue until it became tiresome. Nothing lasts forever. I’m sure a large part of the intensity of last night was the years of buildup. Doug didn’t want anything but sex. That was evident by the big hurry he was in returning to his room. I’ll create a list of rules that we both agree to abide by. When the flame flickers out, no harm, no foul.

  For the rest of the afternoon, I kept busy with my new job, while working in a few minutes here and there to research friends with benefits rules. Surprisingly there were lots of sites and articles devoted to the topic. By the time I was ready to go home I was actually excited about my idea. The way I saw it, it was a win, win for both of us.

  Sophie: Any plans for tonight?

  Me: Nope.

  Sophie: Good. I’m picking up dinner. Greek ok?

  Me: Yep.

  Sophie: See you in a bit.

  Me: Otay. :)

  A TEXT FROM Soph was a rarity. At first when I saw her name pop-up on my phone, a sinking feeling hit the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t seen or talked to her since last night. She had already left for work by the time I got downstairs this morning. I felt off-balance not knowing what was going on in her head. She had always been kind of hard to read, but I thought I’d cracked the code until last night.

  I was distracted the entire day at work. My thoughts ran the gamut. One minute I was patting myself on the back at my exceptional performance last night. Then the next second the look in Sophie’s eyes right before getting off my lap invaded my mind, causing doubt. Maybe she didn’t have as good of a time as I thought. Then my ego reminded me of the impossibility of that being true.

  The weird thing was, I went into it, and her, with the realization that it was a one-time event and I was good with that. But now that I’ve bitten the forbidden fruit, I’m not so sure once is enough. Still, I had to prepare myself that Sophie’s text meant she wanted to inform me that last night was history, never to be revisited. Of course, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to state my case for the up note of history repeating itself again and again… and maybe twenty to eighty times after that.

  As I drove home, I formulated my argument for the continuation of our racy roomie rumba. The most obvious reason, it felt incredible. We were two consenting adults. We weren’t inflicting pain on anyone. Neither of us wanted anything more than a good time. And we didn’t have to leave the house which was very convenient.

  Pulling up to the house, I saw Sophie was already home. I grabbed my bag and suit jacket, then bounded onto the front porch, confident she would come around to my way of thinking. The second I walked through the door the smell of Greek food hit me. Tossing my stuff on the sofa, I followed my nose all the way into the kitchen.

  The swinging door was wide open. I stood in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the frame, and admired the vision before me. Sophie stood at the counter with her back to me spooning out deliciousness into plates. Her flowy white shirt tucked into a fitted knee-length black skirt and black heels screamed hot secretary. Quiet moments between us like this didn’t present themselves often, so I decided to enjoy it until she noticed me.

  Without turning around, she tilted her head toward a bag on the counter, and said, “Look in that bag.”

  “Palmetto beer. My favorite. And it’s icy cold.” I sounded more astonished than I intended. She didn’t show it often, but Sophie had a sweet spot. In fact, if memory serves me correctly, I found a couple of them last night.

  She picked up the two plates piled high with food and headed to the table. “I’m calling a house meeting.” She set the plates and utensils down before sliding her shapely ass into the chair. “Sit down.”

  Eyeing her cautiously, I eased into the chair across from her. I took a long draw from the bottle while Sophie powered up her iPad.

  “I have a strange feeling I’m not going to come out on the side of good after this meeting,” I said.

  She continued to search her iPad, ignoring me. Never taking my eyes off her, I took another swig of beer, trying to figure out what was headed my way. She didn’t seem to be mad or regretful. Quite the contrary. Sophie actually looked satisfied. No doubt still experiencing the effects of my magnetic sensuality. Suddenly, a snapping sound got my attention. Sophie’s raised hand came into view.

  “Beer me, please,” she said, still studying the screen.

  What the hell was she looking at?

  I did as instructed, placing the open bottle in front of her. Finally, Sophie pushed the iPad to the side, looked up, and downed a long sip of beer. I couldn’t help staring as her full lips wrapped around the end of the bottle.

  “Doug, I want to taste you first.” Sophie’s attention was zeroed in on me as the corners of her plum colored lips twitched into a smirk before she ran the tip of her pink tongue over the bottom one. I felt completely helpless against her womanly wiles. “You’re so big. I hope I’m able to fit all of you in, Doug…”

  “Doug!” she snapped.

  “I’m right here, woman. You don’t have to yell.”

  “You had a weird look on your face. Your eyes were glazed over.”

  I blinked a few times then opened my eyes wide. “All deglazed. Now would you mind telling me why you’ve called this meeting?”

  “We’re both adults,” she said in a business tone.

  “Agreed.”

  “I’m going to lay my cards on the table, Truman. Last night was good.’”

  “Good?” I was offended at her mediocre feedback.

  “Didn’t you think so?”

  “I thought it was better than good.”

  She settled back in her chair. “Okay. Your adjective.”

  “Off the top of my head spectacular, mind-blowing, earth-shattering.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched up, but she quickly bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

  “We’ll go with your words. My point is, I couldn’t stop thinking about it all night and day,” she admitted.

  “Really? Because you scampered away pretty quickly.” I skewered a stuffed grape leaf and shoved it in my mouth.

  “I was shocked how goo… spectacular it was.”

  “Shocked?!”

  “We’re getting off track. I had fun… a lot of fun. You had fun from what I remember. And I’d like to continue having fun.”

  The fork slipped from my hand, clamoring loudly as it hit the plate. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened. I couldn’t believe my ears.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Are you fucking with me?”

  “I’d really like to.” She popped a piece of chicken into her mouth.

  “Wait a second, wait a second, wait a second. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “That I want to continue having sex with you?”

  “Yes,” I said skeptically.

  “Yes, Doug, I want to continue having sex with you, but…”

  “I knew it!”

  “What?”

  “There’s always a big but.”

  “I feel we should set some rules…”

  “Oh hell no! You are not going to implement a bunch of rules on me in that department.” I paused and thought for a second. “Unless they’re sexy rules, which I could totally get into.”

  “I’m talking about establishing basic groun
d rules so things don’t get sticky between us.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t complain last night when things got sticky between us.”

  “You’re gross. Forget it.” She pushed the iPad to the side, picked up her fork and pierced another piece of chicken.

  “No, no, no. I’m sorry. Continue, please.”

  She focused back on the iPad. “I did some research on friends with benefits…”

  A huge grin crossed my face.

  Sophie looked up at me. “What?”

  “You consider me a friend. That’s nice.”

  “Don’t go all pussy. As I was saying, I did some research. There are tons of articles about the dos and don’ts of this type of arrangement.” Focusing back on the iPad, she continued. “Everything I’ve read states that setting clear rules is a must. So that both parties are on the same page and things won’t get complicated. This article here says before entering into a friends with benefits relationship you should follow these twenty rules.”

  “Twenty? Too many.”

  “It does seem like overkill. Okay, here’s one with fifteen.”

  “Still too high,” I said.

  “Ten.”

  “Lower.”

  “Seven.” A hint of annoyance invaded her voice.

  “Has always been an unlucky number for me.”

  She blew out a breath. “Four?”

  “Rhymes with whore and that doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “Three.”

  “Sounds too much like pee, which makes me think of you having to go last night. Not sexy.”

  “Two?”

  “Eh.”

  “One?” Her teeth were grinding ever so slightly.

  “What’s the point?”

  “Zero?”

  “Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” I said.

  “Listen here Galileo, we’re establishing a set number of rules.”

  I stared at her. “I am so hot for you right now.”

  “Really,” she said all breathy.

  “No!” I pushed away from the table and stood. “Listen, Soph, I get what you’re saying, but you’re making it too clinical and rigid. I can’t work that way.” I looked down at my crotch. “He can’t work that way. It’s too much pressure.”