Teala grins—this unabashed show of undeniable happiness. “You have no idea what that means to me. I’ve always wanted to be cavemanned.”
I shake my head, my bottom lip between my teeth. “I’ll drag you by your hair and club you into submission if that’s your thing.”
She laughs, leaning back to get a better view of my face. “If anyone else heard you joke like that you’d die by hot pokers.”
Raising my brow, I shake my head again. “If anyone saw my group text, I would be sent to prison and then flogged to death.”
That forces her smile to disappear.
“I’m joking, Teala.” Somewhat. I palm the side of her face with both hands. “What?” I see questions in her eyes. “What’s on your mind?”
“I was just thinking about what you said at your parents’ house. What do you do during deployments? Consider me a military virgin. I know nothing.” A fact that’s both alluring and frustrating.
I sigh. “I liked where things were headed when you were jealous,” I exclaim.
She slides her hands down my biceps, over my chest, down to the button on my jeans. With a grin she cocks her head in question.
“Yes. That jealousy,” I encourage. Closing my eyes, I wait.
“You’ll have to tell me things eventually, you know?” She unbuttons and unzips my pants and then stills.
I peek at her through one lowered lid.
“We’re not pretending anymore,” she says.
“When I’m deployed I do what you…assume I do.”
“Call of Duty?” she asks innocently. She wants real answers. My stomach rolls.
I smile. “No. Not Call of Duty at all. Although I think they’ve replicated our uniforms pretty spot-on by my last account.”
She stares at me.
“There are missions and bad guys.”
She stares some more.
“It’s dangerous sometimes and boring at other times. I use weapons and eat shitty food.” More staring. Fuck. “I’ll be able to call you while I’m away.”
Her eyebrows rise. Finally.
“Connectivity is pretty good on the larger bases, which is where I’m usually at. The smaller outstations have spotty connection, but I’ll always be able to get in touch.” Or so I’ve seen with my friends who have spouses to report back to.
“That doesn’t sound too bad although I have nothing to compare it to. What if it’s harder than I anticipate?”
I wave my palms in front of me. “Wait, wait, wait. We haven’t even fucked yet. We could be completely incompatible and never see each other again after this.”
“This?” she says, pointing to the floor. “Like, we’re going to do it now? Shouldn’t we make it special? We did the prison sentence of four dates.”
I love that she ignores my barb. It was such a lie it wasn’t even worth her responding. The second my dick sinks home, I know it will feel like home—the opposite of incompatible.
She stares out the window again.
“You’re overthinking it again,” I say.
“Can we do it at your house?” she asks, slinging her hands on her hips.
“We aren’t teenagers, Teala. Stop saying we’re going to do it.” I chastise.
She laughs.
“I’m going to love you all dowwn,” I croon, grabbing her by the waist. Pressing my groin into her, I hump her a few times for good measure. Teala gags and leans over to fake retch. I pull her ass against my cock because the urge is too hard to resist.
“That was a record,” she says, shaking her head, glancing up over her shoulder. “You haven’t rapped during a conversation in like twelve hours.”
I think I have, but she just didn’t recognize the song. It’s criminal. I tighten my hold on her waist.
I shrug. “What can I say? Sometimes I don’t have the greatest material to work with. You should give me some better lines.”
She spins in my grasp. “Quite the opposite,” she says. “I like the challenge. I should walk around quoting Shakespeare. You’d never be able to rap anything ever again.”
I kiss her to shut her up. “You don’t give me enough credit,” I growl into her mouth. “You really want to wait until tonight? At my house?”
She moves her lips against mine and it’s a whisper of carnal pleasure. She’s not kissing, just brushing, and my dick responds immediately.
“I’d like that,” she says.
And that seals the deal. I would have gone to town right now against this glass, on the floor, sofa, her bed would have worked as well, but if she’s asking this of me, I’ll make it happen. Not because I think it’s what I’m supposed to do, I realize. I want to.
I nod and gently push her to arm’s length. “I’m leaving right now. I hope you don’t find it in bad taste. I want to fuck you, you understand? Also, I’m technically allowed to fuck you. You’re in my arms with your hands wandering my body. You want it to be special, something I don’t understand but will relent, but I have to go before I trip and fall and my cock ends up buried inside your pussy, you understand?”
She bites her lip. “You understand I want that?”
Blowing out a breath, I let her words hit me square in the dick. “Come over later. We’ll have dinner.” The doorknob in my hand, I peer at her over my shoulder. She hasn’t moved. I’d fathom she hasn’t taken a breath since I last spoke.
“And we’ll do it?” she asks, eyes wide.
I chuckle. “Oh, we’ll do it all right.”
I shut her apartment door and suck in a deep breath. The rules are exhausting. Relationships are exhausting. Not only am I worried about what I want and feel, but I almost have to anticipate what she is feeling as well. If I don’t want to come off as a dick, that is. I have too many other dick tendencies to not give this my best effort.
As I drive to Tahoe’s house, I find myself hoping Teala is in fact an awful lay.
Chapter Fifteen
Teala
Because neither of us has any clue what we’re doing, there’s a lot of gray area and awkward questions. Against my better judgment I’m at Charlotte’s house and my girlfriends are all staring at me like I’m a marmoset at the zoo. Eyes squinted, like maybe I’m a figment of their imagination. Let’s be honest, they’re also in complete shock.
“One more time. No sex? You haven’t had sex with him?” Jasmine asks. She’s the one who called the emergency meeting. Jasmine shakes her head while Charlotte laughs. “It’s unbelievable. We thought for sure you’ve been screwing that man the entire time.”
“I didn’t think she was,” Carina interjects, her voice soft and soothing.
I fake mock outrage. “Thank you, Care. Someone who doesn’t think me a liar!” I am, but not about what they’re suggesting. No need correcting that minor oversight. “I’ve followed your advice implicitly. It’s the fifth date tonight and we have plans,” I explain. Normally I’d wax poetic about dicks and sex just to jar my friends and shake things up, but talking about having sex with Macs is different. The thought makes me shiver. “It’s hot in here, Charlotte,” I add. I fan myself with my hand. I’m turning a bright shade of chartreuse.
Carina lays a hand on my back. “It’s going to be okay. I know what you’re feeling right now.”
I look at her like she’s mad. She’s living with a SEAL whom she hasn’t fucked yet. I saw her boyfriend, Smith, from afar once and afar is how I want to keep him. He’s scary and beautiful, but by Carina’s accounts, he’s also the nicest man on the damn planet. I didn’t get one of those. I probably wouldn’t want one of those either. “Things have a way of working out whether you think they’re good ideas or not.”
Shaking my head, I say, “Don’t do that, Care. That thing when you’re trying to make it seem like you’re wise and all knowing, when you just know how to throw words together to make the biggest impact.”
Carina smiles and looks down at her lap. “I can’t help it.” She laughs then and I’m relieved I didn’t hurt her feelings with my jest.
“It’s a good sentiment, though. Regardless of my…talents.”
Charlotte clears her throat. She bumped the thermostat down and grabbed a veggie tray from the kitchen. “It’s leftover from my leggings party last week. I wouldn’t eat the ranch, but the veggies should be good,” she explains. Charlotte works from home as a web designer, so a leggings party sounds like something she’d embrace fully and truly.
Carina crunches a carrot like a little rabbit.
Jasmine thanks her with a snide remark about cleaning out her fridge once in a blue moon, then she turns to me again to pepper me with questions. Vegas is brought up and they’ve hailed me the winner—Charlotte, begrudgingly. “There’s really no way to prove she isn’t lying. I saw the way that man looked at you, Teala,” Charlotte squalls.
Jasmine chimes in, and they get lost in a conversation about Macs’ looks. I’m not even mad because they don’t over exaggerate any one detail more than another.
My watch pings a message and I glance down. Photo from Macs is displayed on my wrist. The three words make my heart pound. I try to be casual as I bring my arm to my lap and tap the message to bring up the photo. It’s a photo of his neatly made bed. My insides turn to molten lava and Charlotte could crank the AC down to arctic level and I’d still feel hot. I click it off quickly.
The urge to tell him that photos are equipped to say more than words arises, but I squash it. It would ruin the moment and what a moment it is. My friends are dissecting my love life as they compare it to their own. Carina is lost in a text message, smiling like a lunatic, but she chimes in when they start a conversation about kissing.
“Carina knows how to kiss. She writes it like she lives it. I bet she’s super good in the sack,” Jasmine says, forcing Carina’s cheeks to turn scarlet. Jasmine isn’t just Carina’s best friend, she’s also the literary agent for her alter ego, Greenleigh. They have a relationship so intertwined that no one questions it anymore. I’d imagine the edges blur when you write about something you also live.
I pull my hair into a ponytail. The only reason I left it down is because I thought it would be more alluring, but I can’t deal with the extra heat right now. The anticipation is making me nauseous. “Enough. No more talk about my sex life or the lack thereof.”
“Here, here!” Carina injects, flipping her cell phone face down in her lap. “Can we just eat Charlotte’s leftovers and talk about shoes or something?”
“This is where you guys should give me advice about sex in relationships,” I say. “How is it different? What’s expected after? Cuddling?” Cringing, I shake my head. “Never mind, don’t tell me,” I affirm. “I’ll do what I feel is best and hope it’s not weird.”
“It’s going to be weird. Sex is messy,” Charlotte says.
She tells us a story about the first time she had sex with her last boyfriend. I’m left gaping, wishing I never had to look her in the face again. Carina is covering her mouth, eyes wide. Jasmine is laughing, and Charlotte ends the story with a smug, closed lip grin.
Standing from the couch, I tell them I’m going to be sick and rush into the bathroom, slamming the door. I hear their raucous laughter through the thick wood and smile. I pull my phone out of the pocket of my workout jacket and look at the photo Macs sent one more time. I should send him a photo—something scandalous and lewd—something that would make Charlotte’s story sound like child’s play.
There’s a soft knock on the door. “Are you okay?” Carina’s voice floats through.
I open the door and make sure my smile is in place. “I’m fine. I was joking. Charlotte is so gross sometimes. My stories are way worse anyways. It takes more than a dripping wet panty hamster to make me vomit.”
Carina laughs and then agrees.
Her smile fades. “I’m having sex with Smith soon, too. I get it. I’m already in love with him.” Her declaration sets my teeth on edge. It makes me question my feelings for Macs and ask myself what the hell is love? Carina exited a relationship prior to Smith—not that long ago either. How can she possibly know she loves him?
If there ever was a person to explain it, she’s standing in front of me. I reach behind her and shut the bathroom door with a soft click. “What is love? Explain it.”
Carina laughs. “You’re having an existential crisis, aren’t you?” Her eyebrows rise and her shoulders shake. “Do you not want to have sex with him?” It’s a stupid question, but given the circumstances it’s warranted.
“Of course I do,” I reply, letting my hands rise up and slap against my legs. “Sex is my thing. I never know those men, though. It’s just…sex,” I explain. “This is,” I say, pausing.
“This is more?” Carina supplies for me.
Coughing, I try to hide my emotion. “When you say it like that it makes it sound like I’m goo-goo eyed in love with him and I’m not sure that’s the case. It’s the chemistry between us.”
She nods. “I saw it.” She sees everything. Then she turns around and writes about it. I wish I had that skill. I’d be less messed up, I bet.
Charlotte has fifteen bottles of perfume sitting on a mirrored tray by her vanity. I pick one up absentmindedly and spritz the air.
“I’m worried he’s going to bail after sex,” I admit. Waving my hand in the air, I try to disperse the flowery scent. “That’s what always happens and I don’t think this is any different. I’m not sure if it’s going to be different and I’m preparing myself mentally for a few different outcomes.”
“That’s just because it’s all you know, Tay. It’s different and you know it. It scares you. Have you talked to him about this?”
I laugh out loud—a sardonic cackle. “Macs doesn’t do emotions. If I had this conversation with him, he’d head for the hills so fast, my head would be left spinning.”
“You should probably try. I bet he’d be receptive. He’s only dating you, correct? No other women?”
I wince. “I think it’s just me.” How can I be sure? I feel like he’s always on his cell phone. I explain how wrapped up in the app dating culture he was before me and now she’s the one wincing.
“Then he may be feeling the same way if he’s given that lifestyle up. Big changes are hard and scary. Even for men who aren’t afraid of anything.”
I pick up another bottle of perfume and sniff the top.
“Don’t spray that one. It already smells like a French whore on a Saturday night in here,” Carina snaps.
It doesn’t. Not really. Charlotte is into things like perfume and makeup. I have a couple bottles to my name, but nothing like what she has. Exquisite bottles in deep hues and clear bottles that look like diamonds. Maybe I’ll buy another bottle the next time I’m at the mall.
I set the bottle back down. “You never answered me.”
She sighs. “What is love?”
I widen my eyes. Duh.
“It’s different for everyone,” she says, turning her eyes away from me. “It never feels the same twice.”
Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. There has to be some singular quality that resides in love for each and every person. “I don’t believe that.” Though I’ve never experienced it.
Carina silences me with a look. “I thought I was in love, but when I met Smith, I realized the error of my ways. Sometimes love placates. Sometimes it washes over you like small waves coming and going. Sometimes it’s so deep you drown in it.”
I nod. I understand that. “Drowning. Death. Sounds about right.”
She laughs. “You’ll know. I think you already know.”
“I don’t know him well enough to say that for sure.”
“You miss him?” Carina asks. “You get excited to see him? You rearrange your life to fit him in it?” Even now, I’m jonesing to text him back. I miss him when we’re not together.
In favor of answering her questions, I tell her I’ll talk to him. She likes that answer better anyways. I can tell she doesn’t like being peppered with questions about love when she’s contemplating her own fee
lings in a new relationship. Does Smith love her? I wonder.
“How do you know if he loves you?” I ask quickly.
The bathroom door is open now. “He gave up an entire life for me.” Sadness replaces her former smile and my stomach turns. What must it feel like to live with that guilt?
“He got the better end of the deal,” I reassure her.
Her smile in response doesn’t meet her eyes. After she leaves, I snap a photo of a perfume bottle and send it to Smith. Love and perfume, I think. He’ll never get that one.
I walk back out to my friend’s gray living room and announce my departure.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Jasmine whoops.
Charlotte hugs me briefly and pushes me back toward the door.
“I have to get ready for my own date. It’s number two, though, so I won’t get to have as much fun as you,” Jasmine adds.
Stupid, stupid rules. I can’t fault them that much because I’m in a completely different place now that I followed along with their guidelines. I’d admit defeat before I admit they might hold some merit.
“You guys do realize I’ve banged a guy before, right?” I ask.
Carina smiles.
“Not one like him,” Charlotte cackles. “That man is intimidatingly beautiful.”
I shrug. “Not everyone can be as lucky as us,” I say, nodding at Carina.
She blushes. I close the door behind me and exit into the warm SoCal breeze. It will get colder by the minute at this point.
I text Macs a photo of my steering wheel, the German emblem barely visible in the low light. It doesn’t take long to get to his house using the freeway. Less than ten minutes later, I’m pulling into his driveway with shaking hands and a roiling stomach. Did I eat acid tinged lettuce for lunch? Silently I give myself a pep talk as I pull my hair elastic out.
I flip down my mirror and fix my face using the few items I keep in my handbag. Mascara needs another coat. Blush for color I surely won’t need in t-minus five minutes, ChapStick instead of gloss. Gloss gets messy on dicks and lips. I’m comforted by the fact I’m going through the motions. This is what I would do before any normal date. Nothing is odd about my appearance or preparation. It’s comforting.
Hero Hair (The Real SEAL Series Book 2) Page 15
