Twist (Dive Bar 2)
"Mom?" asked Eric. "You okay?"
"Yes," she said calmly. "But none of you deserve cake."
*
Lunch wound up rather quickly after Stan stormed out. I think Audrey was ready for a little peace and quiet.
Joe had to work at the Dive Bar that night. I set myself up in a corner and caught up on some work on my laptop. Spinach and ricotta cannelloni and a beer were brought to my table first, followed by a five-layer chocolate cake. With my stomach so full, I had to fight off the need to nap, face flat on the table. Luckily, Eric decided they could do without Joe after ten-thirty so we returned to the hotel.
Nothing further had been mentioned about his super-penis or my speech vaguely referring to the same.
Surely, this was why people didn't generally take me home to meet Mom. Not that I generally wanted anyone to. Joe Collins may or may not have been an exception; my feelings regarding him were still a big hot mess. I told Valerie about it, seeing as she was the official keeper of my secrets. The woman laughed until she cried. So much for loyalty.
I unlocked the hotel room door and stopped cold.
"The room is flickering," I said, looking back over my shoulder at Joe.
"Is it?" His smile was secretive, sneaky, even.
"Yeah. Must have been all of those drugs I took in the sixties."
The bearded wonder chuckled, following me into the wonderfully mood-lit room. Tiny little fake candles sat in frosted glasses all around the place, including in the bathroom.
"Pretty," I said, checking out the shadows dancing across the ceiling. "You have anything to do with this?"
"Nah."
I nodded, not believing him an inch.
Bubbles filled the spa bath and a couple of beers sat in a bucket of ice at its side. On the counter sat a vase packed full of roses.
"I really wish my other boyfriend hadn't done this," I said. "Makes it a bit awkward with you being here and everything."
Joe just stared at me.
"What?" I smiled.
"You just called me your boyfriend."
Oh shit. My mouth opened, my mind reeled. Man, was it my day for stepping in it. "Ah, I, um ... oops. A labeling accident mid-joke. Let's pretend it never happened."
He blinked. "Okay."
"Great. Phew."
He took hold of the bottom of my sweater, carefully peeling it up and over my head. A demure white bra awaited him below. No matching panties. What with the necessary post-conjugal sleep-in this morning, I just hadn't been that organized. Speaking of which, "Who did you get to do all this?"
"Lady at the front desk was happy to help."
"That's nice."
The thing about consorting with giants, they had a habit of just putting you where they liked. Joe grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the bathroom counter, pulling off my booties and socks.
"It's really beautiful," I said, reaching out to touch the petals of a rose. "Thank you."
"Consider yourself wooed."
"Got it."
Then I was back standing on the floor, my jeans disappearing fast. Happily, he didn't appear to be disappointed by my lavender lace boy shorts. Hands down my bare back in a distinctly proprietorial fashion. They certainly weren't shy.
"Hey," he whispered, drawing me in against him. "What you said at lunch, I appreciated it, the way you stood up for me. Next time though, let's not talk ever, even remotely, about sex in front of my parents, okay?"
"Right. Okay. That sounds fair enough."
I checked out the waiting tub again, giving it side-eyes, trying not to be nervous. It was clean and white and lovely. No blood or anything. Nothing to fear here. The past was gone.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"That I could do with some good memories in bathrooms."
A grunt. Luckily for him, it sounded different than his father's. Joe's grunt had a vibe of understanding as opposed to Stan's grumpiness and general dissatisfaction. I could deal with Joe's grunt just fine.
"You going to tell me what that's about sometime?" he asked.
"Sometime." Not now. I didn't want to ruin the mood he'd gone to so much effort to create. Instead, I reached up, pressing my lips against his. Once we started kissing there could be nothing wrong. Joe's teeth, lips, and tongue made everything right. Usually I didn't waste a lot of time with the preliminaries. With him, however, all of it was good and worthwhile. When his hands slid into my underwear, cupping my butt cheeks, encouraging me, all was wow. Standing before him almost naked while he remained fully dressed made the power dynamic shift into his capable hands. I'd given it over.
The pterodactyls in my tummy were making their presence known again. Overheating me, turning me into a weak-kneed fool. I don't know if it was due to our closer relationship or his talented dick. Both things probably made this thing with Joe take on so much more meaning than my usual "slam, bam, thank-you man" orgasm exchanges.
The bath might not be so deep, but I'd still be out of my depth. Never mind. My swimming skills weren't so bad. And if they failed me, I was pretty damn sure Joe wouldn't.
"I know you're a little sore," he said, nuzzling my neck, my ear. "Thought we could soak together."
"Aw. Did you have a hard night last night too?"
"Like you wouldn't believe." His soft laughter was downright dirty, making a shiver run up my spine. "Plus, I got this dream of you, bare-ass naked, wearing nothing but bubbles. Had to make that happen."
A thrill ran right through me at his words. Goose bumps covered my arms. "You been having dirty thoughts about me, Mr. Collins?"
"Constantly."
"Since when?"
He looked away, a rosy kind of hue on his cheeks. No. Way. The man was blushing. Mixed with his wild long wavy hair and mountain man beard, it was such a surprise, pure delight.
"I'd rather not say," came the mumble from deep in his large, solid chest.
"Hmm." I rested my chin on his chest, gazing up at him. "Joe, tell me some of your non-PG-rated thoughts, please."
Brows scrunched up, he sighed and tucked my hair b
ehind one of my ears. His breath warmed my neck, teeth tugging gently at my lobe. It tickled.
"Hey." I smiled. "Talk."
"Little Miss Fucking Sunshine, I'm not that original." His nose brushed the side of my face, lips teasing my neck.
Mouth open ever so slightly, I waited.
"Fucking you in all sorts of ways. Different positions." A soft breath. "Pretty much on every surface in this room. And in my truck too."
"Mm?"
"Licking you all over, eating your sweet pussy."
"That sounds nice."
"Yeah?" His lips dragged along my jawline, hands pressing into me. "How about if I wanted to play with this gorgeous tight ass?"
"Um." Not being an idiot, I hesitated for only about half a second. "That could probably be arranged."
The man groaned, burying his face in my neck. Something was definitely filling the front of his jeans in a big way, digging into my stomach.
"Basically," he said, voice little more than a rumble, "with your permission, I just want to hold you down and make love to you for a good long time, watching your face as you come."
I pulled back, wrinkling my nose at him. "Seriously?"
Joe just shrugged. "You asked."
"It's not making love, it's sex. And God, you and the eye contact." My shoulders slumped, body sagging. "Why?"
"Relax, Alex. I still want to kiss, lick, bite, and spank you. Fuck you good and hard every way I know how. A little bit of staring into each other's eyes is not the end of the world." He kissed me on the forehead. "If you gave yourself a chance to get used to it, you might even find you enjoy it."
I huffed out a breath. "Once. But only because I like you."
Slowly, he nodded. "Thank you. I like you too."
"Tomorrow for the rest?"
"Tomorrow, when you're not so sore." His big hands cupped my face, angling me up for a kiss. Such a sweet man. "For now, naked covered in bubbles, sitting on my lap, drinking a beer."
I reached behind my back, undoing the clasp on my bra. "Can I tell you all my sexually twisted dirty thoughts too?"
His grin was pure predator. "I'd like that."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Message sent three weeks ago:
ME: The Man Seat. Your turn.
HIM: Cowgirl
ME: Doggy style
HIM: Lap Dance
ME: Spoon
HIM: Shoulder holder
ME: The handy man
HIM: What's that one?
ME: Man seat, but do it on the washing machine with a good spin cycle going on.