Bed Shaker - Page 5

God, Ram must think I’m pathetic after writing that. But, to be fair, he showed up after those texts, so I might not be the only asshole in the room.

Glancing up at Ram, he stares back me, and looks like he’s about to crack up.

“You look a little embarrassed,” he says.

I fill my lung until they hurt and hold my breath. Maybe if I hold it in long enough, I’ll pass out and won’t have to sit through this humiliation any longer.

“I am,” I say, the breath rushing out with my words.

His smile deepens the lines around his mouth. Those lines seem to be a permanent fixture on his face, which means he must smile a lot. “I don’t know if you’re embarrassed enough, though,” he says thoughtfully.

“Oh my God,” I say, blanching. “How bad was it?”

He shrugs. “Pretty bad.”

My throat goes dry and I try to swallow. “What did I do?”

“Do you mean aside from trying to rip my shirt off and grab my dick?”

“Oh. My. God.”

My eyes involuntarily flicker to the front of his pants before I close them and count to ten. When I open them again, his shoulders are shaking and he’s fighting back laughter.

“I can’t believe I did that,” I say, trying to avert my gaze so I look everywhere but his package that, since he mentioned it, sits at the forefront of my mind. “Did we …”

His smile wanes. “No. You were drunk.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped most guys.”

“I’m not most guys,” he says, the humor gone from his voice.

I feel sick. This is so embarrassing, and it gets worse the longer he stays here. “Maybe you should go,” I tell him. I can’t bear to look at him so I turn away. “I have to take Hercules for his walk.”

“I need to get to work anyway,” he says. “Enjoy the pancakes.”

I listen to his footsteps as he walks away, and when I hear the click of the door behind him, I release the stale air from my lungs. When he’s gone, I look at the food on the stove. It smells amazing and I’m starving. I make myself a plate and sit down. I’m so stupid. I can’t believe what I did. At least I’ll never see him again. This is a small town, but it’s big enough that I don’t have to worry about running into people I don’t want to see. At least not that often, anyway.

I take a bite of the pancakes and melt. They’re delicious. Perfect hangover food.

There are four things I’ve learned about Ram in the short period of time he’s been in my apartment—or at least since I’ve been conscious: He’s gorgeous, knows how to cook, didn’t take advantage of me while I was dunk, and he has earned the nickname ‘Bed Shaker.’ The tickle between my legs makes me think that maybe I was a little hasty kicking him out.

3

Ram

As I’m unloading my equipment from the truck, my mind starts to wander back to this morning at Cadie’s apartment. When she appeared in the kitchen, the makeup cleaned off her face, and her hair pulled back, it was like looking at a different person, a piece of art that should be hanging in the Louvre. Everything about her was beautiful, from her silky dark hair to the roiling storm of her gray eyes. Even in workout clothes she was a vision. There’s something inherently sexy about the way she holds herself, so graceful and commanding. A far cry from the drunken mess she’d been the night before. It makes me even more curious about why she’d gotten so wasted. Not to say that I’ve never gotten hammered for no apparent reason myself, but it was usually with friends, not alone. She doesn’t strike me as an alcoholic, and by the extent of her embarrassment this morning, I’m guessing this kind of thing doesn’t happen often. The thing about drunks is they get used to humiliation after a while. That’s not the case with Cadie.

I want to know her story. I want to know everything about her.

“How’d it go last night?” Tim asks, shaking me from my thoughts.

“What?”

“With the girl. You met up with a girl, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I did.”

Normally I share some details about my flings with Tim, but for some reason, when it comes to this girl, I want to keep her all to myself.

He stares at me, waiting. “Well, what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Not a damn thing.”

He glares at me, clearly not content with my answer. “Bullshit.”

“I hung out with a Great Dane and watched TV.”

“A Great Dane? Is that slang for an ugly chick?”

I laugh. “No, an actual Great Dane.”

“So you hung out with a dog?”

“Yep.”

Tim sighs and goes back to work. “That’s disappointing,” he says.

I smile at him and pat him on the back as I head to the truck to get the hedge clippers. When I look up, I immediately stop. The woman walking on the sidewalk heading for the entrance of the building stops too, her big gray eyes widening with recognition. Part of me wonders if by thinking about Cadie so much this morning, I’ve somehow conjured her.

“What are you doing here?” she says, surprised, and maybe a little angry as if I’ve done something wrong. The accusation in her tone and in the furrow of her brow confuses me at first until I realize she doesn’t know this is my job site. We don’t wear logos on our shirts. I’m sure it looks like I’m just hanging out in front of … what is this building anyway? I look around for a sign, but don’t see anything. I go where Tim leads us. No questions. He pays well and on time, that’s all I care about.

“I’m working. What are you doing here?” I say with the same accusation. I’m covered in dirt. Wiping the potting soil on hands onto my shorts doesn’t help.

She looks over at Tim who has stopped what he’s doing to watch the exchange. He lifts an eyebrow and gives a not-so-subtle thumbs-up. I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to the goddess standing before me.

“Oh,” she says, the frown still there, but I can tell she’s feels more awkward than angry. “I thought you were a surf instructor.”

“I am, part time. I do landscaping too.”

Her eyes scan my body, my dirty clothes, the sweat covering my shirt. Inside, I’m wishing I was showered and clean for this second encounter with her, but the look on her face isn’t reading like someone who’s disgusted by my appearance. Just the opposite, actually. Her eyes keep roaming over me, until finally landing on my crotch. She stares at it a moment too long, then shakes her head and looks away.

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. This girl is thirsty for some cock, that’s obvious, and I’m more than willing to give it to her. Just thinking about it makes me a little hard, which doesn’t go unnoticed when she looks at me again.

Tags: Penny Wylder Erotic
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