by Elle Aycart
Not really, no. Although he was going back to work next week. Walter and Jensen needed help, if nothing else as support in the office. “I only stopped by to check on them.” The OGs were gone. He’d been to the garage, but after dropping them at the airport, Rachel had run some errands in Boston, and she wasn’t back yet. “I’m going home to put the foot up high and call it a night,” he lied.
Hopefully no one would look for him. He had an overdue date with Rachel and a bed. Or any horizontal surface. Or any surface, really.
“Good,” Mike said. “Then tonight you have nothing to do, right?”
“Why?” Adrian was already dreading the answer. He had big plans for tonight.
Mike nodded at XL and Sara sparring. “Those two have a date at your place. Chinese and Netflix, which sounds like code. I expect you’ll babysit and make sure that’s all there’s going to be.”
Adrian tried not to sound whiny, but he wasn’t sure he pulled it off. “What about you?”
“What excuse could I have to be at your place, dude?”
That was true. “Hmmm… aren’t they old enough?”
Mike gave him the evil eye. “I’ve started liking that thug of yours. Do not force me to beat the crap out of him.”
“Babysitting it is,” Adrian concluded with a sigh. Man, keeping his and Rachel’s affair secret was going to be the death of him.
Adrian, sitting between XL and Sara, stared at the TV, bored out of his mind. He checked his watch. He should be dressing up and driving to Rachel’s house with a bottle of wine in one hand and a box of condoms in the other. He was supposed to be spending the night buried inside her, not sitting on this damn couch being a third wheel, waiting for Chinese and watching some stupid show about teenagers pretending to be adults and wearing pink masks.
Sending Rachel a message to cancel their date had cost him ten years of his life, at the very least.
The doorbell rang. Thank fucking God. Food. He got up and Sara and XL moved to sit together. Whatever. He was too old for this babysitting shit. Way too old.
The doorbell rang again. “Coming, coming,” he grunted, trying to hurry his limp.
When he opened the door, Rachel was there, smiling brightly and lifting two bags of food. “Met the delivery boy on my way here.” Jeez, he wanted to kiss her so badly.
Sara peeked over the couch. “Did my brother send you to spy on us?”
Rachel laughed and walked in. “I brought ice cream. And potato chips.” She left the bag with the Chinese food on the coffee table and went into the kitchen.
Adrian followed her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing her softly the second they had a door closed between them and the kiddos.
“It’s okay, Boomer. Let’s Netflix and chill. Whenever Sara leaves, we can sneak out to Wilma’s.”
“Great plan. Let’s knock them out as soon as possible.”
He kissed her, lifting her and pressing her sweet body against his. Then he put her down, forced himself to step away, and grabbed the huge bag of chips. “Operation carb overload starts now.”
Her husky laugh followed him to the living room.
Sara and XL had opened the containers of Chinese. “Come on, guys,” Sara urged them. “Food’s getting cold. Rach, did the OGs give you much grief?”
“Nah,” she answered, her tone unconvincing. “Calling Elle was a miscalculation on my part, though.”
“Who’s Elle?” XL asked, making space for Rachel and Adrian to sit on the couch.
“The sister-in-law of one of the Bowens,” Rachel said for expediency.
“I don’t know about miscalculation or not, but the OGs loved it,” Sara said, munching on chips. “The pics are hilarious. They took selfies with the captain and the cabin crew. Elle seems to know everyone.”
“She does,” Rachel replied. “She also gave the OGs some happy pills that apparently make flying a pure joy.”
Adrian was so happy he hadn’t been on that plane with them.
As it happened, the episode they’d been watching ended. “We’ll trade one episode of that crap for one of ours,” he suggested.
“And which one of yours?” XL inquired. “Because we should have the right to veto boomer shit.”
Damn Gen Z.
Adrian wasn’t too big on TV series, but Rachel jumped in. “I know of a great series, and the new season is available now. The previous one ended in a motherfucker cliffhanger.”
XL frowned. “Do you mean the show Rico and Julian talk about all the time?”
Rachel nodded, taking the remote control. “You guys are going to love the Professor. And Tokyo. And Helsinki. Oh, and Nairobi. Poor Nairobi.”
Adrian had no clue what she was talking about. “Any teenagers pretending to save the world?”
“Nope.”
“Then I’m game.”
“Us too,” Sara said, after consulting with XL. “Approved by the majority.”
Adrian thought about telling them that his place was a dictatorship, but the Gen Z specimens would just roll their eyes and Rachel would laugh at him, so he shut up. Better to keep his goal in mind. “Eat. You’re both still growing.”
They all lay back on the couch, stuffing their faces with fried rice, noodles, and chicken dumplings. Rachel’s series was seat-gripping, which didn’t suit his purposes. The idea was to numb their brains and call it a night, so despite his better judgment, Adrian let the kids go back to their ridiculous show.
Rachel went to fetch the ice cream, which ended up being used as dip for the potato chips.
“Do you understand what’s going on, Grease Barbie?” Adrian whispered, motioning to the screen. At some point, Sara and XL had changed series, which didn’t help shit, at least not for him.
“Not sure yet,” she whispered back.
They were cramped on the couch. Under other circumstances, he would have loved it, because Rachel was flush against him, but now it kept him too warm. And the show couldn’t hold his attention worth a damn. Man, he shouldn’t drunk that beer; he was feeling a bit sleepy. He’d close his eyes for five minutes, then he’d get up and wash his face.
“Yo, guys,” he heard XL say. Someone was shaking his shoulder.
“What?” Adrian asked without opening his eyes. “You taking Sara home?”
XL’s scoff was loud. “Come on, Grease Barbie, you too. We need to go to the garage. We’re already late as it is.”
Adrian opened his eyes, the sudden brightness disorienting him. He squinted. Rachel was lifting her head from his shoulder, squinting too. “Sara?”
“I walked her home last night.” XL shook his head. “Some chaperones you are. You were both snoring half an hour after the food. Old farts can’t handle staying awake past their bedtime.”
Damn and damn. Gen Zers 1, Old Farts 0.
In spite of the crick in Rachel’s neck from sleeping on the couch, time flew by in the garage that Saturday, and before she realized it, it was two o’clock and they were about to close. Josh had stopped by a couple of hours ago with coffee for everyone and had stayed, helping the kids with their old Chevy project. Which meant the three of them hadn’t done much aside from following him like lovesick puppies.
“I’m hungry as fuck,” Josh stated. “Calling for takeout. You game?”
She wanted to go home to take a shower, but everyone was cheering, so she agreed. She barely had time to wash her hands before Wata’s Hummer parked in front of the building and Alexa’s mountain of a husband-slash-bodyguard got out of it with a bag of sandwiches. “You’re lucky it was on my way, punk.”
Josh patted Wata’s back with a familiarity few people could muster. He invited Wata to stay, but his brother-in-law shook his head, and after a nod in the direction of the garage, he left.
Rachel sat to eat with the others. When she moved to grab a sandwich, she grimaced and put a hand to her neck.
Josh noticed it. “Stiff neck?”
“I slept in a weird position yesterday.” She’d been okay whi
le working, but now it had seized up.
“I can help,” he offered, peeling her fingers off her neck. “You wouldn’t believe all the pains you get sleeping in buses on tour. The trick is to massage the base of the neck. More often than not, the sprained tendon runs along the back.” He pressed his fingers along her spinal column, and she flinched. “Here?”
“Yep,” she answered, as he worked the spot.
“I didn’t know you were such an expert” came from the open garage door.
Adrian stood there, looking very restrained, even smiling. If she didn’t know him, she would think nothing of his calm tone and relaxed stance.
“There, good as new,” Josh said to her, then turned to Adrian. “Hello, Sheriff. You visit often. Not that busy, are you?”
“Came to check on my kids.”
“Your kids?”
“He busted us and got us sentenced here,” XL explained.
“I see,” Josh said. “I wondered why I hadn’t seen you around before.”
Amantis’s members visited Alden regularly, and Josh, with his easy smile and disposition, knew almost everyone in town.
The kids moved aside for the sheriff to have space to sit. There were a couple of sandwiches left, and they offered him one. He refused both gestures.
“You?” Adrian asked Josh. “Do you come here to brush up on motorcycle repair?”
If that was meant to piss Josh off, it didn’t work. “Yes, but not only that.” He turned to Rachel. “Mike and Kyra are having a little gathering this evening in honor of Amantis. You’re all invited.”
Rico, Julian, and the thugs were beaming. Adrian was quiet.
“I’m afraid I can’t, Josh. This evening…” What could she say? She’d scheduled a long-overdue sex date with the brooding sheriff?
“We have to go to Boston to report about the progress of these three,” Adrian said, coming to her rescue.
Everyone frowned. “On a Saturday? In the evening?” Josh asked.
“I had to pull some strings to move things along because XL is turning eighteen soon. The judge’s schedule was full. This was the best he could do.”
Man, he sucked as a liar.
“Ah, okay,” Josh, the ever-polite guy, said. “Stop by once you’re done. Both of you.”
Adrian’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Can’t promise anything. We should leave, Grease Barbie. I’ll drive you home so you can get ready.”
He threw her a glare, daring her to say otherwise. Time to go. “Right, guys. Will you close up for me?”
Everyone nodded, their mouths too full to answer.
Once in Adrian’s car, Rachel asked, “Report in to Boston on a Saturday?”
He shrugged. “If I’d known that asshole was going to ask so many questions, I would have arrested you. It would have been quicker.”
“Arrest me? What for this time?” she asked, amused, as he drove to her place.
“Without the OGs around, it’s difficult to come up with reasons,” he admitted, stopping in front of a drugstore.
“Why are we here?” Rachel glanced around. “Do we need condoms?”
He scoffed. “Getting you a spray for that neck. Which is what you should have suggested to him.”
“Josh is just a friend helping with my stiff neck. Besides, why did you show up so late? He came early to help us,” she goaded him.
“I was with Walter and Jensen, coordinating everything so that they wouldn’t bother us over the weekend. Why didn’t you send me a message and warn me?”
“Please, how old am I? And if I had, you would have run to me?” Her sarcastic tone was lost on him, she could tell.
“Of course.” Before she could inform him of how nuts that was, he got out and went into the store. He came back with a small spray bottle. “This should be more effective.”
Josh’s massage had been plenty effective, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to mention that.
They made it to Wilma’s house. “Now what?”
“I’m kidnapping you,” he stated, opening the trunk and pulling out two baskets full of food and wine. “We’ll lock ourselves up and won’t come out until Wilma comes back or we run out of air, whichever happens first.”
She laughed. So romantic. Good that she’d planned ahead and cleared her schedule too.
“Are you sure there won’t be interruptions? What about Sara and XL?” she asked as she unlocked the front door.
“Mike is hosting the party, and he invited XL, which means Sara will be there, so he’s on duty tonight.”
He closed the door behind him and put the baskets on the floor. Grabbing her by the waist, he turned her to him, kissing the living daylights out of her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the party?” she whispered after the kiss. “There will be many famous people there.”
Adrian’s eyes gleamed dangerously. “Couldn’t care less, Grease Barbie.”
They’d been trying to be alone for so many days, and now that it was finally happening, it felt… contrived.
Then he took her mouth again, this time more aggressively, and “contrived” flew out the window, along with any rational thought. She dropped her purse and jumped on him, wrapping her legs around him.
Suddenly, everything became wobbly.
“Oh crap.” One of his arms shot out, flailing for something to grab on to. The other held her securely as they crumpled to the floor.
His foot. She’d forgotten. “Oh God. Sorry, Boomer. Did I hurt you?”
He was chuckling, so no. He took her lips again, laughing and kissing.
When she pushed herself up on her arms, she grimaced.
“The neck?” he asked.
She nodded and leaned her forehead on his chest. “God, look at us. We’re a mess. You can’t stand properly, and I can’t move my neck without straining it.”
He rolled them over. “Don’t move it, then. I’ll take care of everything.”
She placed her hands on his chest. “No, no, no. Do not fry my brain yet. I need a shower first.” She scrambled up. “I’ve been working and sweating all day long. And we’re too old and too injured to fuck on the floor when we have a bed.”
“I could take a shower too.”
That sounded interesting. Then it dawned on her. “Should we put a plastic bag on your foot?” If they had an accident doing shower acrobatics and had to call 911, they would never live that one down.
Adrian cursed while Rachel tried to help him stand. “You’re right. We’re a mess, damn it.”
“I’ll be back in five minutes,” she said, running upstairs.
She was usually really quick in the shower, but this time she took extra care, trying to scrape her hands clean. And she used a ton of lotion.
She must have moved her head or arm too fast because a whip of pain flashed across her neck. Crap. The spray was in her purse. After wrapping herself in a towel and her hair in another, she peeked from the top of the stairs.
Adrian seemed to be in the kitchen, emptying the baskets he’d brought. She walked down the stairs on tiptoe and, careful not to make any sound, went to the couch, where he had left her purse. She grabbed the spray. There were still sounds coming from the kitchen, so all was good. Now she just had to run back up and finish getting ready.
“You’re sneaking around half-naked,” she heard from behind her. His breath and his gentle fingers touched her neck.
“I forgot the spray,” she whispered, not moving.
“Let me.” He took the bottle from her hand. “Close your eyes.”
He didn’t use the spray, though. Not right away. He traced her neck with his soft lips, licking her here and there, while his hands worked her shoulders and between her shoulder blades.
“Now the spray,” he murmured, applying it. It felt cool on her skin—which was good, because she was feeling way too hot. She went to turn around, but he stopped her and caressed her arms with just the tips of his fingers. Rachel wasn’t sure what was going on with
her neck, but the rest of her body had become supersensitive. She broke into goose bumps, and he noticed.
“You like it,” he let out, unwrapping the towel she had on her head. “We were always in such a hurry, I didn’t get to treat you like you deserve.” He moved her wet hair over her shoulder and continued murmuring in her ear. “You’re fucking sexy. You know it, don’t you?”
She turned around, wondering how the hell it could be so hot when she wasn’t even properly dressed. She pointed at the stairs, walking backward until she hit something. She threw it a glance—the living room table. “I’ll go put something on while you finish what you were doing in the kitchen.”
He ignored her words and followed her. “Do you know how sexy you were on the hood of my car, taking my cock to the hilt? Or on the porch, almost naked, offering yourself to me while giving me attitude?” He caressed her throat, moving down to the knot holding her towel.
A flick of his fingers and the only cloth covering her slid to the floor. She’d come downstairs dripping wet, but now all the droplets had evaporated. No, not evaporated; they had gone south, because her pussy was drenched.
“How’s your neck?” he asked, his gaze finally reaching her face.
Neck, what neck? Ah, her neck. “Like new.”
“Good,” he muttered, lifting her to sit on the table. “Open up for me. I want to watch you.”
She complied, and he wedged himself between her legs, spreading them even farther, his eyes glued to her core.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Bare and glistening. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He slid the tips of his fingers up and down her slit. “You’re wet, baby.” He caressed her inner folds. “Very wet. And hot.”
She placed her palms on the table behind her and arched her back.
“You want more?” he asked, removing his fingers from her.
“Adrian—”
Whatever she was going to say was lost in her moan the second his tongue touched her core. Her hands slipped from under her, and she barely managed to prop herself up on her elbows. She looked down. His broad shoulders were between her legs, his sexy hands on her thighs, keeping her open, while his tongue licked her folds and moved up to her clit. He lifted his gaze to her and grinned, and her inner flesh convulsed at the wicked sight.
