Out of Love(23)

“And you’re sure you haven’t had sex with him?”

I giggled, almost spewing sparkling water out of my nose. “Yes. I realize I can get distracted and forget stuff, like when it’s my turn to clean the bathroom, but I’m very certain I have not had sex with Wylder.”

“Wylder?” Missy leaned against the archway into the kitchen, hands gripping her backpack straps.

Grinning behind my tin can, I shrugged. “It’s his name.”

“Yes. I’m just wondering if you’re using it as a proper noun or an adjective.”

“So who’s your study date?”

“Smooth subject change. And it’s Ryan.”

“Double date Ryan?”

Biting her lip, she nodded.

“What are you studying? Anatomy?”

Missy giggled. “Only if I’m lucky. If not … we’re studying cross-culture communications.”

“Well, I hope for your sake it’s a lucky night. Have an orgasm for me too.”

Laughing, she pushed off the wall and shook her head. “Maybe what you need is mind-blowing sex to get your mind off the criminal down the street. Maybe Elias.”

“I’m not letting him conquer me.” I sipped my drink.

“Then conquer him. Booty call. No spooning. No snuggling. Let him in then let yourself out before he has a chance to discard the condom. Make him feel like it was adequate … like he served the purpose and you no longer need him.”

“Is that what you’re doing with Ryan.”

“Fuck yeah. I have my computer and a box of condoms in my bag. Not a change of clothes or a toothbrush. In. Out. Home. Bye, bae.”

With a slight chuckle as I focused on Jericho watching me with his usual smile, Missy headed out for cross-cultural communications and sex.

Was I jealous? Yes.

*

My nervous anticipation of professors asking me why I had a dog in class was met with nothing. Not one single professor said a word. Maybe rumors about my assault had gotten around and they assumed I needed an emotional support dog.

By Friday, I was a wreck. Slade and I hadn’t exchanged numbers, and the disconnect and fear of the unknown—of the worst—weighed heavily on my mind.

What if he was with her?

What if I was a dog sitter while he had lots of sex with someone else?

So many what ifs …

A half day of classes meant an afternoon surfing with my buddy Jerry perched on a towel under a beach umbrella.

“You adopt a dog?” Elias asked, paddling up next to me.

“Dog sitting for a neighbor.”

“Cool. But too bad. I thought we could hang out later.”

Smirking, I paddled ahead of him with every intention of catching the next good ride. “No time to hang out … but if you want to give me a quick orgasm, I could spare fifteen minutes.”

As I glanced over my shoulder, Elias met me with a wide, white grin. “Sounds a little one-sided.”

“If you get off too, I’m fine with it. But you won’t be a priority.”

His throaty chuckle faded as I found my wave.

I needed something to prevent me from totally losing my shit when—if—Slade returned. It was impossible to think about anything else but him touching her the way he touched me. I’d made it twenty-one years without being that girl … the jealous, needy, clingy kind. I wasn’t about to start with Slade Wylder.

It wasn’t his job to fuck me.

It wasn’t my job to be anything more than a dog sitter to him.

“Not gonna lie … I’m a little surprised by your change of heart,” Elias said as he unlocked the door to his condo.

“Don’t be.” I gestured for Jericho to go in first as Elias held open the door. “I’m not here to sleep with you. Not here for some big seduction. Just here for the orgasm.”

He shook his head, wearing a grin that turned into a cough as he shut the door behind us. “Surely you can give yourself one. Do you need me?”

I turned and slipped off my sweatshirt, revealing a bikini top. “For the kind of orgasm I want … yes.”

Jericho sniffed around the condo as I shimmied out of my jean shorts, leaving me in only a bikini.

“You want to go to the bedroom?” Elias shrugged off his tee, revealing his perfect bronze body.

“Nope. I’m not staying. Floor. Sofa. Kitchen counter. Your choice, but we don’t need a bed.”

“Damn …” His grin doubled.

I drank up his expression, his body, and the look in his eyes.

“What happened to me being your favorite fantasy?”

I shrugged, untying the top of my bikini. “Fantasies are overrated.”

Before my top fell from my breasts, there was a knock at the door.

“Company?” I frowned.

“I’ll get rid of them. Keep stripping. If I’m going to pleasure you, the least you can do is show me what I’ve been dying to see for … ever.” Elias opened the door. “Hey.”

I started to retie my bikini top in case the unexpected guest needed to step into the house.

“Jericho.”

My head snapped up, breath caught in my throat at the gritty voice saying Jerry’s name.

“Oh …” Elias took a step back. “Is he your dog? Livy said you weren’t coming home until tomorrow. Come in.”