Tease (Songs of Submission #2)(27)

“Ah.” He took his thumb away from under my chin. My legs were still spread, and his knees prevented me from closing them. I looked at him, feeling ashamed. I was sure he’d drop me like a foul ball, right there in the back of his Bentley in a designer dress and new garter. “Three times is my limit. We’re one f**k to our expiration date,” he said.

“I hope it’s a monster because I’m going to miss it.”

He smiled at me, then pushed himself back. He closed my legs, and I pulled my skirt down, smoothing it against my thighs, pensive.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I can’t promise you anything long-term. I can’t get past my marriage. But I like you more than I care to, and I’m not interested in anyone else right now.” He pressed my hands in his and looked at them, then back at me. “Let’s do it. As long as you understand where I can’t go. Jess talked me through a lot of shit. She rescued me in ways you can’t even fathom.”

Asking him to explain would have been aggressively intimate enough to break whatever we had. Whatever indefinable thing that was, short-term monogamous relationship, friendly f**kery, exclusive fling, it was not what he had had with Jessica. Our connection didn’t have the bandwidth to sustain the pain buried far enough in our past to cause the grind of our present. His past belonged to her, even though she’d cut the line, taking it with her, tugging at him, leaving no one else for him to give it to.

“I get it,” I said, “and I’m okay with that.”

“Not for long. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

I stared at him for a second, then down at our hands. “I didn’t get into this car wanting anything more from you.”

“Yes, you did. You just don’t tell yourself the truth all the time.” He put a finger on my chin. “You’re a goddess, Monica. Never be afraid to ask for what you want.”

Our faces were a breath away. I kissed him gently, minutes passing while the city zipped by outside the windows. I heard my phone bloop, and I ignored it. His dinged, and he ignored it. Our devices were like a chorus of bells in the wrong church. I felt the car drop from the nose to the back, as if it were falling off a cliff.

I looked out the window as we stopped. “You drove me home?”

“You’re black and blue in just about all the places I want to f**k, and if you come back with me, I’m f**king them.”

“The things that come out of your mouth,” I said.

“Do they please you?”

“No, actually.”

“Come on, Monica. I’ll be gone for a few days. When I get back, we can pick up where we left off.”

“You’re leaving me like this for days? I feel like I’m carrying a baseball between my legs.”

“No touching either. That orgasm’s mine, and I’m trusting you to hold it for me.”

I put my face to his, kissing his cheek, his nose, his lips. “It weighs ten pounds. Just release me.”

“I’m going to release you when I get back,” he said into my ear. “Repeatedly.” He reached back and knocked on the window between us and the driver.

“You have a serious cruelty streak.”

He smiled at me as though he knew good goddamn well what his streak was made of. Lil opened the door, and we stepped out. He kissed me by my porch steps, and my phone blooped again. From my porch, I watched the Bentley dip down the hill as if it was a feather thrown from a tall building. Inside the house, I heard the piano getting the attention I wished I was getting.

CHAPTER 16

Gabby was up. No one else could play like that. She didn’t stop when I came in, but she nodded to me.

“It’s eleven at night,” I shouted over the music.

“So?”

“Can you play something a little less bombastic so the neighbors don’t call the cops again?”

She stopped playing entirely. “Why are you home? Did you guys have a fight or something?”

“No. Where’s Darren?” I dropped my bag and kicked off my shoes, draping myself across the couch. Even lying still on the couch made me think about sex, adding to the throbbing between my legs. Damn Jonathan.

“Fucker’s on another date.” She tinkled a fun little tune on the keys. I’d never seen her like that before, with so few words and a tone of such pent up anger. I wished I could have my old high school friend back. She was fun. The person I’d spent the last two years watching had a new personality every few weeks.

“So? We set you free. You should be happy.”

“I am. I’m meeting Theo for a midnight show at Sphere.”

“Scottish Theo of the tattoos? He’s all right.” As excited and approving as I tried to sound about her new fling, she seemed disinclined to take the bait. She’d always been that way, which I’d liked about her, but over the past two years, the trait had become less charming and more alarming.

“So,” she said, “Darren has a mystery lady. You have mister bazillionaire.”

“I don’t have anyone. It’s completely casual.”

She ignored me and my half truth. I was falling for Jonathan, and she knew it better than anyone. She turned to the piano again and played something sweet and sexual that made me want to run to the bathroom and finger myself to orgasm just so I could sleep.