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“What was that?” he said. “I was all fucking set.”
I stared past him, listening to Katie’s rust bucket of a car chug from the drive. “A few weeks,” I said. “We’ll give her a chance.”
“A few weeks? What good will a few fucking weeks do, Carl?”
And I didn’t know. I really didn’t know.
He took hold of my hand, lifted it to his mouth, and sucked in my sticky fingers, scraping the barbecue sauce off with his teeth. My nostrils flared, a flourish of tingles through my balls.
His eyes never left mine as he sucked on my thumb, sucked hard until it was clean.
He stepped back, “I’m sure I heard your cock twitch,” he said, passing me a tea towel. “I’m already hard.”
“I’d noticed,” I said, wiping my hands and discarding the towel.
“I want to fuck you,” he said and grimaced at my raised eyebrow.
I pulled him to me, pressed my lips to his. He tasted of her, and that my made cock twitch even more. Then he was hugging me, tight. I hugged him back.
“I’ve got to go,” I said. “I’m presenting at three.”
He blew out a sigh. “Yeah, whatever.”
“You could have fucked her.”
“I wanted to.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
He pulled away. “Why are you here? I thought you couldn’t make it?”
“Saturday,” I said. “We’ll really get her measure on Saturday.”
He didn’t reply, not until I was in the doorway, the Range bleeping as I pressed unlock.
“You like her, don’t you? Fucking hell, Carl, you really likeher. That’s why you’re here.”
I gave him a wink before I pulled the door shut.
Not nervous, not nervous, not nervous. Definitely not nervous. No way.
I’d packed too many clothes for a night away, virtually the entire passable collection from my wardrobe, but what was a girl to do? A night out in Brighton could mean anything. Posh dinner? Ballroom dancing? A basement rave? Partying on the beach?
Should have packed those glittery pumps. They’d pass for beach party attire. Crap.
Rick smiled across at me, and I wished I could see his eyes throughhis shades. “Not too long now.” He turned the music up a notch, but Carl tapped the back of his seat.
“I’m expecting a call,” he said, gruffly, and Rick turned it back down. He shook his head at me, and I laughed. My neck prickled as Carl leaned forward, his chiselled face appearing so close, right between our seats. “Some of us have to work,” he said, and then his phone started up.
He’d been in the back seat the whole journey, his laptop on his lap and his phone beeping and whizzing. I didn’t mind. I liked it up front with Rick. I liked it a lot.
Maybe I even liked the guy in the back seat a little, too.
I relaxed into the leather of the seat, the sun hitting my skin through the window as the world outside passed me by. I could do this. Carl, I mean. Maybe not do him do him. The thought of fucking him still brought me out in a cold sweat, but this, being with him. This I was getting used to.
His humour was dry, and he was uptight, and snarky, and a mega workaholic, but he was alright.
