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“Who bites their own lip?” He laughed.
Shrugging, I continued to eat and stared out the window. My eyes remained forward, but my mind flooded with images of the moment that bite happened—the fierce passion of the kiss. Stone had been unbridled in a way I never imagined. I didn’t conceive of him as a selfish lover but more controlled. The older Theron brother was always serious, focused, and reserved. Shockingly, I didn’t develop an attraction toward Dean, who was fun and always acted free of any constraints over the years. Or Bryce, who was intelligent, dedicated to his position but laid back. I truly liked him as the head of my department, and I hoped to get the position as his assistant in the next few weeks and learn a lot from him. Perhaps one day, I’d be the CFO of a company. But neither Bryce nor Dean caused any sexual or romantic sparks in me.
“Ah!” The swerving vehicle catapulted me out of my musings.
“Sorry.” Bryce righted the car after his jerky movement. “There was a blown semi tire in our lane.”
I offered him a slight grin. I released the scream bar and took a deep breath to pull myself together. The car's shifting didn’t scare me as much as send a jolt through my body's muscles. It evoked every thrust, grind, and slide of Stone’s shaft as it drove with intense determination to take, claim, and woo me to a climax I’d never experienced before. Climaxes. Even after I’d showered and had lain in bed trying to sleep, tremors still racked my body. My sex throbbed with every heartbeat, a rhythm that echoed Stone’s name. Even now, I was deliciously sore from his size and power inside me. It was one night. I had no notion it would ever happen again. It couldn’t happen again.
“You want to finish the true-crime podcast we started?” Dean grabbed his phone out of the console and handed it to me.
“Can we just listen to some music? If you don’t mind. We can catch the podcast on the way home.” Too much chaos in my mind for me to focus on understanding the intricacies of murder if I tried.
“Sure. Kick things off with some Electro Pop.”
“Radioactive by Imagine Dragons coming right up.” I smiled as I entered his passcode to access. Last summer, a group of us had seen the group in concert for Dean’s birthday, and it had been a memorable night.
Like last night, I shoved the thought away.
As the drumbeats filled the car, I relaxed for the first time since I’d walked out of Stone’s office. I just may survive this weekend after all.
~YH~
“Got your crackers and ale.” The crinkling of the paper bag accompanied Dean as he let himself into my condo.
I peeled my head up from the couch where I had been willing my insides to stop rolling. “Ah, you’re a lifesaver.”
He started across the room, glancing around the open space of my kitchen. He frowned and stopped midway to the couch. “The gang will be here for game night in an hour. Where’s the crudités platter, the charcuterie board, and wine? You know August must-have wine, or he’ll look like the world is ending.”
“Ah, hell,” I groaned. “I know. Once my stomach settles, I’ll get something together.” Slow, I dragged my body into a sitting position, tightening everything inside of me, hoping not to end up throwing up again. Most of the remnants of my lunch were already in the sewer system—the world only tilted a little.
Dean stopped.
I made an infantile grabby motion toward the bag.
“You look puce. You're not coming down with something, are you?” He dramatically buried the lower half of his face in the bend of his arm as he closed the distance.
I snatched the bag. “No. Your precious gallery showing next week is safe.” Anxious, I rooted through the bag and then tore into the crackers. I wasn’t sure how many I shoved into my mouth and chased their dry, salty goodness with the ginger soda.
I burped.
“You pig,” Dean teased and sat down. “So, what's wrong if you don’t have a bug?”
I waited for a few beats feeling the roller coaster in my stomach easing. “Rancid bacon, I’m guessing.”
Both Dean’s brows went up. “Those two things don’t seem to go together. Besides, bacon doesn’t stay around long enough to get rancid.”
“You wouldn’t think so, but remember on Monday when I told you I was craving breakfast for diner night? Well, I barely finished eating my pancakes, eggs, and only two strips of bacon—”
“When everyone knows you’re a four-strip kind of girl.” Dean winked.
“Only thing holding me back from becoming a vegan.” I sighed, weakly teasing back, and ate two more crackers. “Something about the bacon didn’t agree with me, and it all came up. Since then, every night after I get home from work, around six, I can’t seem to keep anything down. Can food haunt you?” I took in more soda.
“I wouldn’t think so, but it sure sounds like it. Have you seen your doctor?”
“Better now.” I shook the drink at him. “If I feel this way tomorrow, I’ll go to urgent care. But disaster overt. Let’s figure out food.” I leaped from the couch, hoping to alleviate my friend's fears. “Whoaa..” Wrong move.
“Hey! Careful.” Dean shot up, then took me by the shoulders. “How about you sit, and I order some food?”
