Cayla sunk into her couch and sighed. It was finally Friday night and unlike other people her age, she was perfectly content with staying in. Of course, she loved going out to happy hour or a good girl’s night but her “girls” were out of town and her other friends – okay, who was she kidding – acquaintances wanted to club hop. No thank you. Cayla was not interested in dropping it low, sweeping the floor, or picking anything up slow. She also wasn’t letting anyone “see it,” nor was she backing her thing up for a guy in terrible clothes with horrible breath.
“No, you can’t buy me a drink.” She scowled at the memory.
Nope, sipping her creamy S’mores hot chocolate and donning the world’s plushest pajamas after a wonderful soak were giving her all the life she needed. She really couldn’t ask for anything more. Liar. Her mind was a bitch. Okay, if she was being completely honest with herself, a good orgasm would be wonderful after the long week she had. Cayla took a tentative sip of her hot chocolate because the last thing she needed was singed lips. An assessment of her extremely brief sex life told her that it was time to put herself out there again.
Aside from Nick and his astonishing feat of self-control, no one her age had a one-partner sex history. In her defense, it was little after college, and they did have an active sex life. Jackson had everything she thought she wanted; he had smooth chocolate skin and a sexy body. He was smart and had a great sense of humor, but he couldn’t quite get her there during sex. She’d never learned how to give a blow job. Jackson was also anti-oral, unless he was receiving – which he didn’t, and when she would try to help him get her there by touching herself he’d move her hand and say stuff like he was enough. Cayla rolled her eyes at the memory. Apparently not. Eventually, their differences in bed ended their relationship. He said she was boring.
Cayla truly believed that sex was just sex, and all the movies, books, and songs were full of shit – until she heard other women’s stories and - Good God - some of the things Kalilah told her had her second-guessing her previous assumptions. She’d read that some women couldn’t achieve an orgasm through intercourse and started to accept that she was one of them. Even with that, she was sure she could have fun other ways. She just needed to do it with someone. Cayla catalogued all the guys that had asked her out over the last few months and shot each of them down with flaming arrows. Nope. Nope. Hell nawl! She had no intentions of kissing any of them, so it was a very cold chance in hell that they would see her naked without the help of leaked photos.
Her body tingled, and she ignored it by taking another sip of her chocolate goodness. She refused to spend another minute on a kiss that made her feel more than Jackson ever did. Scratch that. Hearing Dex’s name made her feel more than Jackson ever did. She raised the volume on the Hallmark channel and tried to drown her thoughts with made-for-television cinema.
She was one cup of hot chocolate down when she realized watching love stories wasn’t the right move while re-evaluating her own love life. Cayla briefly wondered if she would be considered a loser for going to bed at 9:30 PM on a Friday night. Who gives a shit? After turning off the television and washing her mug, she snuggled in her bed with her sleeping mask over her eyes. What? She was sensitive to light. She didn’t share the same love affair with the bed as Kalilah and Nick, but she did like comfort. A content sigh escaped her lips once she found her spot.
Then her damn phone buzzed. Luckily it was mere inches from her spot. She didn’t have to put much effort to reach it or remove her sleep mask. Winning!
“Hello?”
“You sound comfortable.” The world’s sexiest voice fucking shattered her bubble of contentment and flung her emotions into an epic battle between fear and desire. “Tell me. Are you in bed already?” The way he said bed gave desire the advantage; it junk-punched fear and did a victory dance on its face.
“And if I was?” Who the hell said that? Cayla shook her head. It appeared that her mouth was operating independent of her brain. His sexy chuckle made her not care.
“Well…” he rasped. “I would have to ask you what you are wearing.”
Man, it was amazing how his words could raise her core body temperature. She smiled in the dark.
“The plushest and coziest winter pajamas I could find.” There, that should slow him down. “You?”
“Hmmm. Boxer briefs, maroon to be exact. Are you cold, honey? What me to warm you up?” Oh no. Cayla was happy she had a waterproof mattress protector because he just melted her. She tried to imagine Dex lying in bed practically naked; he was probably all muscle and delicious. She longed to see the tattoo of which she’d only seen hints.
“That’s hard to do from another country, Dex.” Her voice sounded breathier than she remembered.
Dex laughed again. “True, but there are ways to solve that issue. I could fly you out for the last two weeks if you wanted to come.”
The way he said “come” was thick with double entendre. Everything sexual inside of her yelled “YOLO Bitch!” Cayla started to mentally calculate her paid vacation time. She had three weeks’ worth, and it was almost the end of January; if she only planned on working until June 1st, she would still have one week and a few days…what in the hell was she doing?
“I don’t have a passport.” It was sad and true. She’d never really had a reason to leave the country, and now she was paying for it. It was more alarming that she’d considered going.
Dex sighed. “It would have been fun, Cayla.”
Hearing him say her name was such a turn on. She was so hot that her previously comfortable pajamas started feel like a fiery death trap. She flung the pajamas off before they could kill her. She sighed when her arms and legs felt the cool air.
“Did you just strip?” His voice was thick with desire.
“I’m not naked if that’s what you’re asking. I still have on my tank top and underwear.” Cayla didn’t realize the implication of her words until they were out of her mouth. She rubbed her hand on her face and sunk deeper into the bed. She’d just given him ammo.
Dex’s groan was guttural. “Now I wish I’d chosen Puerto Rico this year…”
“Puerto Rico?” Cayla wasn’t making the connection with his change of destination.
“Yes. US territory, no passport needed.” Cayla’s entire body throbbed.
“Why are you awake right now? Isn’t it late there?”
“Yeah. Three something in the morning.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about you, so I called.”
“With which head?” She rolled her eyes. Shut the hell up, Cayla.
“Both.”