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He keeps rubbing my ass and laughing at the movie playing. “You’re much quieter now, Petal.”
“I… I just keep hoping your hard-on will go away.”
He sighs. “I do too, but I’m not sure it will.”
Suddenly, the arms holding me down are gone. “Here you go. You can take off now if you want to.”
I push myself up and off him as fast as I can, so fast that I stumble and fall back onto to coffee table and right into the Indian food.
“Goddammit!” I yell. “Look what you made me do.” I push myself up, grabbing at the takeout napkins to get chicken vindaloo off my ass.
A quick glance at Rake’s lap shows he still has his stiffy.
“Oh man, this is gross. This is the only pair of jeans I have with me.”
Rake holds his hands out. “Take them off. I’ll put them in the wash. They’ll be ready when you leave for work in the morning.”
Like right here? Right now?
I don’t say this out loud. I just wonder it. But I guess it’s written all over my face, because Rake presses his lips together.
“Yes, take them off here so you don’t get this stuff all over the living room. Look, I’m not going to lose my mind at seeing you in what I’m pretty sure will be granny panties, hopefully without any holes. So relax, okay?”
“Yeah, well, I do not wear granny panties, and you still have a hard-on.”
“So what? Men get hard-ons all the time. It’s natural when an attractive woman is rubbing herself all over you.”
He thinks I’m attractive?
“I was not rubbing myself on you. But whatever.” I unzip my jeans and slide them down my hips.
Rake bends to help me step out of them, probably to keep the mess to a minimum, when he looks right at my crotch. “Not bad. The hearts are cute.”
I put one hand right in front of my goodies, which I never gave him permission to look at anyway, and put the other on his shoulder while he helps me.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, balling up my dirty pants, and adjusting his package. “Jesus. Calm down, will you?”
He reaches onto the back of the sofa and tosses a fluffy blanket my way. “Here. You can cover up with this.”
While he’s putting my jeans in the wash, I have a few more bites of my dinner, which is cold now, but I don’t care. I love Indian food any way it comes and won’t complain if it’s not piping hot.
Then, I spot the remote.
Victory.
I turn back to my Hallmark movie. The doctor and nurse have their first kiss, and for a moment, all is right in the world.
“I knew it. I knew I should have taken the remote with me,” he says when he returns to the living room.
I shrug. “Sorry.Lethal Weaponended.”
Resigned, he settles in next to me and we watch my movie without talking. After a few minutes, his hand wanders over and takes mine.
I can’t resist. “Hunky hockey player wants to hold my hand,” I say in a sing-song voice.
“You have a problem with that?”
I think about it. “No. Guess not.”
