Chapter Nine
On Monday, Rick greeted me in his typical fashion. I'd been disappointed when he'd told me not to bring coffee in the morning, but I put it out of my mind when his eyes scanned my body, lingering on certain areas. I'd worried that our extracurricular activities would negatively influence our working relationship, but we managed to keep it professional, although we gazed at each other with a renewed hunger. It was ironic because I thought the spark would have simmered down, not boiled over.
We'd had two wonderful afternoons over the weekend. Rick had never pushed me and had constantly asked how I was feeling. He'd given me a massage, and I'd returned the favour. The sex had been amazing, whether it was gentle and slow or fast and rough. Rick made every cell in my body come to life with his touch.
I sat with Dillon at lunch, munching on my carrot loudly.
"So, you and Rick finally did the deed."
I almost choked. Was it that obvious?
"Come off it, kid, I know that just-fucked look."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You do?"
He tsked at me. "Just because I haven't done it with a guy doesn't mean I can't tell you have." Dillon was a male virgin. The part of his OCD that really hurt him was his thought process that sexual acts were somewhat disgusting.
"Dillon, I'm not going to kiss and tell."
"Marley, if all you did was kiss than you probably shouldn't tell." He lined up two spoons so they were directly on top of each other. Dillon always wanted things perfectly lined up. Maybe it was another reason why he couldn't participate in sex. "Seriously, come on! You know I live vicariously through you."
"Yeah about that, shouldn't you find a guy to live vicariously through? Wouldn't that be better for you?"
His mouth crinkled in a smile. "No, I'd rather hear the exploits of my slutty best friend. She's usually more forthcoming."
I laughed loudly. Dillon could get away with calling me a slut because we were comfortable like that. We'd shared secrets and it bonded us. Although he didn't approve of my rotation, he only gently chided me about it and made jokes, which I preferred to stern lectures.
"I have a question for you. Are you sure you're gay? How can you know for sure since you're a virgin?"
He let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not a virgin, Marley."
"Well, I mean you did it with a girl and I know you didn't like it, but maybe it was the girl and not that you're gay."
"Marley, I know you have some wicked dream about us getting married and conceiving a couple of kids. It's a nice dream because our children would be gorgeous and very well groomed, not sticky, slobby messes like most kids, but you're just going to have to face facts that you'll have to settle for being my BFF. I can't keep breaking your heart like this, kid. Just get over me already."
"Well, a girl can dream right?"
"Let me put it to you in terms you'd understand. How did you know you were straight before you had sex?"
I took a deep breath, remembering my first time. It was not a happy memory. Dillon's face went from amused smile to pure mortification instantly as he realised what he'd said. I didn't want him to feel that way, especially when it came to me. I wanted to go back to the joviality. "Touché," I said, bumping his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, kid."
I flashed him my ‘we're good' smile. "Don't be sorry, Dills. You're right."
He lined up both our lunches from tallest to small. He had already made a few origami squares and I knew he was looking for something else to do. I handed him my Zesty bar wrapper so he could fold that. I didn't say anything about it-I could read Dillon's moods, and right now-he needed to stay busy. I started unfolding the origami squares he'd made because I knew he'd want to fold them back up again. Dillon didn't like the unfolding part.
He moved his pudding cup towards me like a bribe. "Please dish. Just let me know if we should still call him ‘Big Dick'? Does the nickname suit him?"
I laughed. "Um … yeah. It suits him perfectly, but we can't call him that anymore. It's mean. I don't want to say anything else."
"Because he's your boss? You know I won't say anything."
"I know that, but it just feels wrong to dish this and I can't explain why."
He narrowed his eyes at me while I fiddled with the pudding cup. "Uh oh."
"What?"
"I've known you for a long time, kid, and this is the first time I've seen you so … modest about your exploits, so this guy's got you feeling something deep."
I shifted awkwardly. "It was deep all right," I replied cheerfully.
Dillon didn't laugh. "You know what I mean, Marley, but joke if it makes you feel better."
* * * *
That night I insisted on driving to Rick's place myself. When I got there, he was on the phone. He gestured me towards the couch.
"I just ordered Chinese for us. I hope you're okay with that." There was more to his question than simply enquiring about my food preferences. I wasn't sure how to respond. Rick sighed deeply, obviously frustrated with my silence. "Don't worry. If you want, I'll fuck you first, and we can eat it naked."
"Rick, cut it out. You're being a jerk."
He sat next to me on the couch. "Why won't you share a meal with me, Marley? I mean, we both have to eat, right?"
He was right. I could eat with him. There was no reason to be so stubborn. "I like Chinese. Thank you."
Rick smiled crookedly and traced the outline of my ear, causing me to shiver. He pulled me onto his lap suddenly. "The guy will be here in twenty minutes. Do you think we have time for a quickie?"
I laughed, shifting on his lap to a more comfortable position. "Hmm … let's get some nourishment first."
He moved my hair away from my face and stared at me when he asked the next question. "Are you still sore?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Good, because I was worried."
"You're saying good because you were worried, or because you want to fuck me?"
He laughed. "Honestly … both. You were driving me crazy all day. It was all I could do not bend you over my desk."
"Imagine that, and I didn't even wear a skirt today." I held out my leg for emphasis. I was dressed in the most utilitarian cargo pants and combat boot combo I owned. I had no idea how I could be appealing to him like this.
"I like you in skirts, Marley, because it lets me see more of your luscious body, but now that I know what it looks like, I don't need any extra visuals. You look good in anything you wear. Combat boots, cargo pants, garter belts … all of it and especially … none of it." He ran his lips down my neck and inhaled my scent.
His words made my stomach flip. The fact that he thought I was hot even when I wasn't trying to be was a crazy turn-on for me. I shifted off him and moved to the other end of the couch because I didn't trust myself not to rip off his clothes.
It didn't stop Rick though. He took my foot, untied my combat boot then did the same with the other one. It felt very intimate and sweet. "How are the wedding plans going?"
I relaxed because that was a safe topic for me. "Good, but it's intimidating being the maid of honour."
"You don't want to be the maid of honour?"
"Not really, but I have to be. It's part of our pact."
"What pact?"
"When the three of us were younger we all agreed that I'd be Stevie's maid of honour, Billie would be mine then Stevie would be Billie's. That way, none of us felt left out. I offered my place to Billie, but she refused it."
"Why did you want to change places with her?"
"She'll never be a maid of honour otherwise." I couldn't believe what I'd just revealed.
Open mouth-insert one utilitarian combat boot.
I'd basically conveyed that I was never getting married, and I could tell by Rick's reaction, he was surprised. I quickly added, "I'm just nervous about the responsibilities of it."
"What are you specifically nervous about, Marley?"
"There's so much to do, but mostly, because of the toast I need to give."
"You have any ideas what you're going to say?" He had removed my boots and socks, and proceeded to massage my feet.
I shrugged. "I really don't know. I'll probably make a joke about how Stevie went through a phase where she wore tons of brown clothes, sensible shoes and fell in love with Georgia O'Keeffe paintings. We all thought she was a lesbian. I'm just glad Adam set her straight … get it?"
Rick paused the foot massage, staring at me dubiously. "Marley, you can't say something like that."
"Why not? My family jokes like that all the time and Adam, her fiancé, grew up with us, so he knows how we are."
"Marley, this isn't just about your family. This is your sister's special day. Her co-workers will be there, his family, their friends. This is about you getting a chance to vocalise, as a close observer, how special their relationship is. I'm not saying you can't be funny, but it has to mean something."