What Lovers Do

I snort a tiny laugh. “Where are you getting your massages? I’ve never had one make me feel that kind of good.”

Shep unbuttons his jeans, and I try not to stare, but it’s like someone telling me not to blink and now I have to blink. He slides his hand down the front of his boxer briefs and strokes himself.

“Shep …” I lose my voice halfway through his short name.

“Yeah?”

Gulp.

“What are you uh … doing?”

“Touching myself. Do you touch yourself?”

With a nervous laugh, flames shoot out of my cheeks. “Not uh … not usually on a full stomach. You know … muscle cramps and other physical dangers associated with rigorous activity after a meal. One time I made a batch of cookies late at night and overate.” I lift my gaze to his when his hand stops moving.

He bites his lips together, fighting his grin.

My head shakes slowly. “Got a little frisky with myself after like … six cookies, and two of my fingers cramped up so badly I had to stop. I went to sleep that night horny and crippled.”

Shep twists his lips, fighting it so hard as his hand inches out of his briefs and he turns his back to me, fisting a hand at his mouth and clearing his throat. Then his shoulders shake, and I know I got him. I got the grin. The silent laughter. Dare I say I won the moment?

This is the version of me that’s truly me. The woman who loves life, friendship, and laughter. I love to laugh. I don’t like taking life too seriously unless I’m forced to play that part. With Shep, I don’t have to play it.

“Jesus, Sophie …” He coughs again, continuing to stifle his laughter as he turns.

I swear his eyes are red with tears.

“You are one weird chick.”

I smirk. “You love it.”

He nods. “I do love … it.”

My gaze shoots in another direction. That was a weird moment. Did I tee that up? I didn’t mean to.

“Speaking of cookies,” Shep says, “I didn’t eat much dessert tonight on purpose. Because I knew I’d fill up on your—”

“No!” I cover my ears and start giggling. “You are terrible. Just terrible, Marcus Shepherd. A fucking drug dealer. And you know all of my weaknesses.”

He sighs, letting his smile wilt into a frown. “I have Scrabble. My mom bought it for me, hoping it might help my dyslexia. It didn’t. We can play. You will win. How does that sound?”

This is not fair. He’s playing the dyslexic card, which I didn’t even know was a card to be played until just now. One of the dogs scratches at the door, and Shep heads to the kitchen to let them inside.

I don’t know what my angle is at this point. There’s no stopping the clock. I will start to show a baby belly. Our friendship will, at best, change into a true, non-sexual friendship, or it will end altogether. Having sex … not having sex … won’t change that fact.

A few minutes later, he and the dogs return. “Bed,” Shep says to his dogs. They ignore him, opting to hump each other instead. Twisting his lips and watching their behavior, he shakes his head. “Animals just know. They know what feels good and they do it. It’s not that complicated. Why do humans make it so complicated?”

I rub my hand over my mouth to cover my smile. George and Julia are really going at it. “If humans were as uninhibited as dogs,” I say, “we’d hump all the time. In public, just wherever. There’s a reason we’re considered the most evolved species.”

“George, Julia, bed.”

They head straight toward one of the bedrooms. Shep slides open a drawer to his coffee table and pulls out a deck of cards.

I notice his jeans are buttoned and so is his shirt. Doesn’t he know how to give a girl a few seconds to overthink everything and land on the right decision, only to say “fuck it” and do the wrong thing after all?

“Kings in the Corner?” He holds up the deck of cards, wiggling it a few times.

“I can’t. I have to get to bed.”

He deflates. “It’s Friday, Sophie.”

“I know.” I unzip the side of my dress and let it fall to the floor.

Shep’s lips part a fraction as his eyes flare.

“Soft bamboo blend, huh?” I grin.

“Fuck you, Sophie …” He drops the cards and takes three huge strides to get to me. “You just always have to be on top.” Our mouths connect in a hard kiss. He grabs the back of my legs and hoists me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He carries me to his bedroom and dumps me onto his bed.

I bite my lower lip and giggle as he quickly discards his shirt. “I’ll let you be on top, Shep. Just this once.” I’m asking for it. I don’t know what it even is yet, but I have a feeling it will involve me not having an orgasm anytime soon. It will involve me pleading. It will involve me on the verge of self-combustion as he takes his time getting back at me.