The deadbolt clicked as she stood in the hall, eyes closed, skin tingling with goosebumps, fingers ghosting over her lips that curled into the most smitten smile ever.
Chapter Sixteen
Knight
In the spirit of why-the-hell-not, Jillian accepted a working lunch date with Rick Willey, the boss of her most recent Lascivo party hostess. Rick, by any other woman’s standards, was a handsome, successful bachelor. He had a good-ol’-boy look with his ten-dollar haircut, Lee jeans, and boyish smile. Rick ran a multi-million dollar construction business by day and immersed himself in the world of kinky sex toys by night. Enter Jillian.
“Thanks for lunch. I have to admit, I’ve never had a picnic in the back of a pickup before.”
Rick nodded with ignorant pride. “I had to keep an eye on my crew, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have lunch with you. Gina said you’re my soulmate. Thought you might like seeing me in action, you know … dominant and in control of my crew.”
The poor attempt at sexual innuendo brought a mini-vomit up Jillian’s throat. She swallowed it back down and held open her front door.
“Uh, yeah … there’s nothing sexier than a guy that knows his way around a walkie-talkie.” She rolled her eyes as he followed her into the house.
“So … how does this work?” He bit his lower lip and nodded slowly.
Jillian fought the grimace that pulled at her face as his eyes roved her body. “Eww …”
“Excuse me?” He leaned closer.
She cleared her throat. “I said you need to try the new vibrating pleasure pocket.”
“Oh yeah?” He strutted his neck like a bird.
“Yeah, just a second.” She retrieved the pleasure pocket from her box of toys.
“What if it doesn’t fit?”
Jillian made a quick inspection of his scrawny body. “Sorry, it doesn’t come in a smaller size.”
He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’m not talking about it being small … if you know what I mean.”
More bile crept up her throat. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Maybe I should try it first. Maybe you could demonstrate it on me.”
There were indeed a lot of maybes, but Jillian’s were more like: Maybe I should be selling you a strap on penis or a magnifying glass to find yours, or maybe I should shove my thumb into your jugular and put us both out of our misery.
Jillian held up a finger and ran back to the bedroom, returning a few seconds later with a condom. Rick’s eyes lit up. Another eww escaped Jillian’s mouth. “Here, go to the bathroom and try it out.”
His brow furrowed. “With a condom?”
“Yes. If you don’t like it I can’t very well sell it to someone else after you’ve shot your spunk into it.”
He took it with a reluctant look on his face. “Okay. Are you going to wait out here?”
“Yes.”
“Will you talk to me while I’m in there trying it out?”
“No.”
His shoulders slumped as he went into the bathroom.
A shivering jolt of heebie jeebies wracked her body.
“I’m removing my pants,” he called.
“I don’t need to know that.” She cursed Jackson and his stupid job choice for her.
“I’m sheathed and slipping it on my big guy,” he continued his commentary.
She stuck her fingers in her ears and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Oh fu-fu-fuck! This is g-good!”
“Yoo-hoo?” Greta called though the screen door.
“Shit! Who’s that?” Rick yelled.
“My neighbor. Just … finish up.”
“What? I can’t. What do I do? Oh God! It’s going f-faster. Shit, fuck, shit! I-it won’t sh-shut off! Help!”
“Jillian?” Greta called as the screen door opened. “Is that you?”
“I’ll be right there, Greta.”
“My dick’s going to break off!”
“Shh! Calm down and open the door.”
The door flung open and a panicked Rick shuffled toward Jillian with his pants at his ankles and his hands gripping the pleasure pocket like a fireman with a hose.
“Don’t come out—”
“Get it off!” Rick charged toward her and Jillian stepped to the side. He tripped and flew forward into the newel post. “Ahh … fuck.”
“Jesus! Are you all right?”
“What’s going on in there?” Greta’s voice drew closer. “Is everything okay?”
“Don’t touch me!” Rick grabbed his pants, pulling them up his legs with one hand while the other covered his bloodied nose, shoving past Jillian and nearly bowling over Greta as he shot past her and straight out the front door.
Jillian smiled at Greta as if nothing happened. “Hey, Greta. What’s up?”
*
Sergeant Monaghan slept in his office for three nights, worked out with punishing intensity, and snapped at everyone around him until his superior sent him home for a mandatory week’s vacation. Exactly what he did not need: close proximity to his neighbor. Cage started daily practice which meant AJ did not see him very often. As much as his son pushed his buttons, he also knew how to handle AJ’s episodes of anger and pain.
“Yoo-hoo … Sergeant?” Greta waved at AJ the moment he got out of his Jeep.