Velvet Kisses(9)
“Are you in a dorm or the row?” There’s a fork in the road up ahead. Whitney Briggs is a pretty big campus for a private university. “I didn’t go to WB, I went to Lambert.” I throw it out there for no good reason. Maybe it’s because I wanted to fill the silence, or maybe it’s just because I want her to know that I’m not ancient like her boyfriend implied—that they still had institutions of higher education back in the dinosaur days.
“Lambert? Wow, a Trident boy.”
I glance over in time to catch her milky teeth grazing her lip, and my dick ticks to life.
I’m quick to revert my attention to the road. Down boy. No way no how do I want a piece of that action tonight—maybe any night. That psycho boyfriend—ex-boyfriend of hers was right, I’m way out of her demographic. I need to be respectful, keep things chaste—look at her like a little sister.
“Yup. We are the Tridents.” I flick my fingers in the air as if I were at a game. “So which way is it? North or south?” I nod to the light.
“Depends.” That southern drawl pulls from her throat once again. “Which way do you live?”
I grip the wheel a little tighter.
“Look”—she sags into the seat—“he’s just going to stalk me all night. Trust me, Will isn’t one to give up easy—with the exception of throwing away almost two years. We’ve done the fighting and making up thing before, we’ve just never done the cheating on each other thing before. That, my friend, is what I call the end. Will and I are through—hence my desire to not lose a good night’s sleep over him.” Her fingers twist into one another as if she were gathering her nerve. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I was thinking you could let me, maybe, stay at your place?”
“It is crazy because, for one, you don’t know me.”
“I know you’re Blake’s brother—I know you lost another brother last summer.” Her voice grows small. “I’m really sorry about that.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, dislodging an enormous breath from my lungs. Benji and Blake were only a year apart. Benji managed to knock up his girlfriend, and that, right there, is what started the tragic string of events. He died in a motorcycle accident before the baby was ever born. Blake has decided to raise the baby. He’s a real hero in my eyes.
“I know you own a horse ranch.” Her voice picks up with caution. “I know that Blake and Annie are someplace called the carriage house on your property so already I feel safe. I could stay with them if you like. I’m sure once they get the baby settled and make mad passionate love over every free inch of that place, they’ll be glad to entertain me for the night.”
An inadvertent laugh escapes my throat, turning into a groan at the last possible second.
“Now that’s a visual.” One I didn’t need. Just the thought of Blake’s hairy ass defiling the place makes me squirm. He loves her though, and Annie is a great girl. A dull sigh expels from me. “Annie and Blake have something special for sure.”
“That they do, cowboy.”
I’m no cowboy, but I don’t bother correcting her. I can practically feel her voice lassoing around my balls.
Well done, Marley. You win.
I don’t take Marley to the dorms or to the row.
This young man goes west and heads home.
* * *
The ranch house is lit up like a peach as I pull into the driveway.
“Anyone home that I should know about?” Marley cautiously takes off her seatbelt. “You got room on the that bedpost for one more?”
“Funny.” I nod as we get out. “Nope. Not a soul in the place—not even an angry ghost. I usually leave the kitchen light on twenty-four seven. Not sure why. The dark has never bothered me.” I extend my hand helping her up the walkway. “I suppose it has more to do with the fact I get home late, and I like the idea of there being life in the house. It’s a cold feeling coming home to dark windows night after night.”
I don’t bother telling her that I grew up in this big house with no one in particular to come home to. It was a lonely childhood that led to an equally lonely adulthood, and, yes, there’s usually a woman who volunteers to strap herself to the bedpost these days.
“Wow, that was pretty arcane. I’ll try not to read anything too Freudian into it—unless, of course, you have the place plastered with pictures of your mother. Not that there’s anything wrong with showing Mama her due.” She laughs and winks in the process. There goes that country twang again. Can’t say I mind. “I just don’t think her smiling face in the bedroom would do either of us any favors if you know what I mean.” Her long, svelte fingers clip over my tie and glide their way down with phallic intent.