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Outside the Lines(50)

By:Emily Goodwin


Mission complete.

“Cam would know I’m faking for sure.”

“Nah, say you got food poisoning.”

“We had the same thing.” Ben puts himself between my legs. “But no one questions explosive diarrhea.”

“Hah, so true. Is being hungover a good enough excuse?” He lowers his head and kisses my neck. “Or losing control over the lower half of your body after I fuck you so hard you can’t walk?”

Hot damn. My lips press together and curve into a smile. My eyes widen and my vagina quivers. “I’ve never thought there would be any words I’m unable to say to my boss, but those might be it.”

Ben laughs and kisses me, trailing his lips down my neck and across my collar bone. “And now you have to follow through on that promise.”

“I won’t disappoint.” He sticks his fingers inside my leggings, which are navy blue and covered in glow-in-the-dark stars and moons. The TV is the only source of light in the room, but the pattern still gives off a soft glow. Ben peels them off and tosses them on the floor. He moves back, accidentally knocking the TV remote onto the ground. It bounces closer to me, and I lean over to get it but end up tumbling off the bed. I land hard, laughing.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks, holding back a chuckle.

“I think so,” I say and push myself up, feeling super sexy on all fours. I whacked my shin on the nightstand on the way down. I stand and wince. “That’s gonna bruise.”

I toss Ben the remote and click on the bedside light to look at the angry red spot on my leg.

“Ouch,” he says and takes my leg in his hands. I’m so glad I shaved this morning. His lips brush against my skin.

“They’re going to have to amputate it, I just know.”

“Most likely. That’s a very serious injury. Looks infected for sure. We better cut it off now before the infection spreads.”

“Just call me Peg-leg Pete, the pirate.”

Ben laughs. “I won’t be calling you Pete anytime soon, but I’d be okay with the pirate part.”

“You have a thing for pirates?”

“I might. And it might have to do with the fact that the first-ever porno I watched was called Pussy Pirates.”

I can’t control the giggle that comes from my mouth. “You’re not supposed to admit stuff like that, right?”

He shrugs. “Why not? It’s not like it’s a secret men like porn. And jerking off. Though I haven’t watched porn since we’ve been together, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does,” I say and repeat his words in my head. Not the ones about porn, because I don’t really care. Some of the things I look at on Tumblr are pornographic, after all. It’s the part where he said “since we’ve been together.” We’re together? We’re an item? Officially? Is that how it works in the adult world? You just date and fuck and grow close then just assume you’re together until one day someone drops down on a knee and offers a ring?

Shit.

I need to know this.

Cosmo, you’ve failed me. Again. Except for that tip about curling my eyelashes before I put on mascara. That’s actually a good tip. Thanks for that one.

“I have a pirate costume,” I blurt, needing to say something to keep myself from freaking out. Is Ben my boyfriend? Should I change my Facebook status? Why hadn’t he changed his? Seriously, grow the fuck up, Felicity. That shouldn’t be a first thought.

“You do?” he asks, voice dropping. His hands travel up my thighs. “Want to put it on?”

I smile. “I suppose I can. But only because you’re asking so nice,” I whisper and lean forward, brushing my lips against his neck as I talk. I get up and go into the spare room, which houses my sewing stuff. The closet is full of costumes. I remove my clothes and hang then on the chair by my sewing table. The pirate costume is in the back of the closet, and it takes for-freaking-ever to get the corset laced up by myself. I laced it backward, then pretty much scraped my nipples off turning the tight leather corset around. I decided to forgo the white chemise that goes underneath.

I hike up the skirts, pull on fishnets and tall leather boots, then put on my hat and grab a LARP sword. It’s shiny and made of real metal, but the edges are dull enough that I won’t have to worry about skewering Ben as he plunders me.

I slow as I walk back to my bedroom. I’ve worn costumes a million times. I prefer them to “normal” clothes, anyway. Yet this is the first time I’ve donned something for this reason.

A sex reason.

Excitement rushes through me. Excitement, and desire. I step into the room, trying to think of something sexy to say that has to do with pirates. “Swab me poop deck” comes to mind, but there’s something so non-sexy about poop, I can’t use that line. Even if I was into anal—I haven’t tried it … yet—reminding Ben that where he’s about to stick it is next to my personal sewage system is a mood killer for sure.