The Other C-Word (21 page)

He chuckled. “What about the shirt?”

“I can deal with the shirt, but I really liked the panties.”

“So did I, but they were kind of in my way. We should go shopping together because I’d really like to pick out a couple pairs for you…or would you consider that a date?”

I swallowed, nervous at the prospect of lingerie shopping with Rick. “I’ll pick something out online, and you can pay for it.”

“I guess it would be a good idea to open an account somewhere.”

“Why is that? You want to buy women’s panties?”

He laughed louder this time, but his gaze was still intense. “I plan to rip a lot of them off you.”

I gulped. “I should go.” I opened the car door, but his hand clasped my shoulder.

“Just so you know, I’m following you home.”

I gaped at him. “Rick, I’m capable of driving myself home. I do it all the time.”

“Not from my bed, you don’t.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “This crazy chauvinistic thing you have going on is a little irritating sometimes.”

His face softened. He took my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist. It was an unexpected gesture and completely defused my frustration. “Marley, I want to make sure you make it home. It’s late. It’s raining. You’re tired. You’re not wearing any panties. Please, just let me follow you home. I’ll do it no matter what you say, but I would rather have your permission.”

It was endearing when he explained himself, but I wanted to retain my ire. It was better to have anger or numbness than what I was feeling right now. “Is this your stalker attempt to get my address, Rick?”

Rick sighed, still clasping my wrist. “Marley, I already have your address.” I backed away from him slightly. “It’s in your HR folder.”
Oh, duh!

“Oh, yeah. Okay, you can follow me home, but as soon as I get into my subdivision, you’re driving away.”

“No, I’m not. I’m going to follow you to your driveway, wait until you are safely inside your house and then I will leave.”

It seemed pointless to argue with Rick’s stubbornness. “Fine, but as soon as I get into my house, you have to pull out.”

He grinned mischievously, surprising me. “You should know by now that I don’t like to pull out.”

I couldn’t help but laugh with him. His laugh, the hearty one, was infectious. It also made my heartbeat quicken because it caused his dimple to reappear and his eyes to turn a brighter shade of green. “Fine, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait,” he directed and I did because the cadence of his voice had a commanding quality I could not resist.

He came over to my side and helped me out of his car and into mine. Once again, he placed the seatbelt across me. Finally, he leaned in, kissing me gently, barely brushing my lips with his. It left me yearning for more of him—maybe that was why he did it. “Now don’t lose me. I know you have a lead foot.”

I accelerated out of the parking lot at a steady pace once he got back into his car. I saw his headlights behind me, and I flipped on the radio trying to find the station that we had been listening to. It made me feel like we were in the same car if we were both enjoying the same music. How was it possible that I could miss him already? The whole idea freaked me out. This was just sex. We were fuck friends only.

I laughed hysterically when
Relax
by Frankie Goes to
Hollywood
came on. It was exactly what I needed.

I pulled into my driveway. True to his word, Rick remained in his car. Although I
thought he was fighting the urge to help me out of mine. I walked into the house and stood by the picture window, where Van Morrison took up residence on the sill. I patted the cat’s head, and he hissed at me. It was our usual greeting. My mom joined me, standing behind me. I knew I looked ridiculous, in a concert T-shirt and her jean skirt, with messy damp hair and puffed lips. She had to know it wasn’t exactly the same outfit I’d worn this morning.

My mom was not an innocent. She was a child of the sixties. Unfortunately, she wasn’t born until the seventies, and didn’t reach adolescence until the eighties. She belonged to the wrong decade, but like her predecessors, she believed in sexual freedom and rising up against social norms. She believed a woman didn’t need to rely on a man for anything. Apparently, she didn’t believe in birth control either, since my sisters and I had different fathers. It didn’t matter, we were closer than any other siblings I knew, and my mom loved us completely. Even with that knowledge though, I felt slightly embarrassed about my obvious whereabouts.

“Who is that, Marley?”

Rick nodded before he drove off. “Um, I guess the guy I’m seeing. My boss…sort of.” I cringed, waiting for her response.

“Why isn’t he coming in?” The question was not what I had expected.

“He just followed me home. He wanted to make sure I made it safely.”

She was quiet for a moment, and I wondered how she’d react, since I never talked about guys. “That’s very sweet.”

I shrugged. “I think it’s a control thing,” I replied, trying to dismiss it. The truth was I thought it was sweet too, but I didn’t want to dwell on it.

My mom placed her arm around my waist. “Marley, there are a lot of men who can make you feel good for an hour, or a night, or a week. There’s very few that can make you feel cherished all the time.” I blinked rapidly, taking in her words.
My mom is giving me guy advice?
The same woman who enjoyed her own personal sexual revolution two decades after it was fashionable? I cringed with the realisation that her statement meant she knew about my lifestyle, despite the fact that I was very private.

My years of training kicked in as I managed to make my rueful expression become detached. She matched my expression with a sarcastic one of her own, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. She probably did. “Stop looking at me like that. Do you think I don’t know what it means to feel cherished? I do.” She smiled knowingly. “I toured with the Dead after all.”

I laughed loudly. My mother made this statement often, as if touring with the Grateful Dead imparted a greater insight into life’s challenges.

Chapter Nine

On Monday, Rick greeted me in his typical fashion. I’d been disappointed when he’d told me not to bring coffee in the morning, but I put it out of my mind when his eyes scanned my body, lingering on certain areas. I’d worried that our extracurricular activities would negatively influence our working relationship, but we managed to keep it professional, although we gazed at each other with a renewed hunger. It was ironic because I thought the spark would have simmered down, not boiled over.

We’d had two wonderful afternoons over the weekend. Rick had never pushed me and had constantly asked how I was feeling. He’d given me a massage, and I’d returned the favour. The sex had been amazing, whether it was gentle and slow or fast and rough. Rick made every cell in my body come to life with his touch.

I sat with Dillon at lunch, munching on my carrot loudly.

“So, you and Rick finally did the deed.”

I almost choked. Was it that obvious?

“Come off it, kid, I know that just-fucked look.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You do?”

He tsked at me. “Just because I haven’t done it with a guy doesn’t mean I can’t tell you have.” Dillon was a male virgin. The part of his OCD that really hurt him was his thought process that sexual acts were somewhat disgusting.

“Dillon, I’m not going to kiss and tell.”

“Marley, if all you did was kiss than you probably shouldn’t tell.” He lined up two spoons so they were directly on top of each other. Dillon always wanted things perfectly lined up. Maybe it was another reason why he couldn’t participate in sex. “Seriously, come on! You know I live vicariously through you.”

“Yeah about that, shouldn’t you find a guy to live vicariously through? Wouldn’t that be better for you?”

His mouth crinkled in a smile. “No, I’d rather hear the exploits of my slutty best friend. She’s usually more forthcoming.”

I laughed loudly. Dillon could get away with calling me a slut because we were comfortable like that. We’d shared secrets and it bonded us. Although he didn’t approve of my rotation, he only gently chided me about it and made jokes, which I preferred to stern lectures.

“I have a question for you. Are you sure you’re gay? How can you know for sure since you’re a virgin?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not a virgin, Marley.”

“Well, I mean you did it with a girl and I know you didn’t like it, but maybe it was the girl and not that you’re gay.”

“Marley, I know you have some wicked dream about us getting married and conceiving a couple of kids. It’s a nice dream because our children would be gorgeous and very well groomed, not sticky, slobby messes like most kids, but you’re just going to have to face facts that you’ll have to settle for being my BFF. I can’t keep breaking your heart like this, kid. Just get over me already.”

“Well, a girl can dream right?”

“Let me put it to you in terms you’d understand. How did you know you were straight before you had sex?”

I took a deep breath, remembering my first time. It was not a happy memory. Dillon’s face went from amused smile to pure mortification instantly as he realised what he’d said. I didn’t want him to feel that way, especially when it came to me. I wanted to go back to the joviality. “Touché,” I said, bumping his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, kid.”

I flashed him my ‘we’re good’ smile. “Don’t be sorry, Dills. You’re right.”

He lined up both our lunches from tallest to small. He had already made a few origami squares and I knew he was looking for something else to do. I handed him my Zesty bar wrapper so he could fold that. I didn’t say anything about it—I could read Dillon’s moods, and right now—he needed to stay busy. I started unfolding the origami squares he’d made because I knew he’d want to fold them back up again. Dillon didn’t like the unfolding part.

He moved his pudding cup towards me like a bribe. “Please dish. Just let me know if we should still call him ‘Big Dick’? Does the nickname suit him?”

I laughed. “Um…yeah. It suits him perfectly, but we can’t call him that anymore. It’s mean. I don’t want to say anything else.”

“Because he’s your boss? You know I won’t say anything.”

“I know that, but it just feels wrong to dish this and I can’t explain why.”

He narrowed his eyes at me while I fiddled with the pudding cup. “Uh oh.”

“What?”

“I’ve known you for a long time, kid, and this is the first time I’ve seen you so…modest about your exploits, so this guy’s got you feeling something deep.”

I shifted awkwardly. “It was deep all right,” I replied cheerfully.

Dillon didn’t laugh. “You know what I mean, Marley, but joke if it makes you feel better.”

* * * *

That night I insisted on driving to Rick’s place myself. When I got there, he was on the phone. He gestured me towards the couch.

“I just ordered Chinese for us. I hope you’re okay with that.” There was more to his question than simply enquiring about my food preferences. I wasn’t sure how to respond. Rick sighed deeply, obviously frustrated with my silence. “Don’t worry. If you want, I’ll fuck you first, and we can eat it naked.”

“Rick, cut it out. You’re being a jerk.”

He sat next to me on the couch. “Why won’t you share a meal with me, Marley? I mean, we both have to eat, right?”

He was right. I could eat with him. There was no reason to be so stubborn. “I like Chinese. Thank you.”

Rick smiled crookedly and traced the outline of my ear, causing me to shiver. He pulled me onto his lap suddenly. “The guy will be here in twenty minutes. Do you think we have time for a quickie?”

I laughed, shifting on his lap to a more comfortable position. “Hmm…let’s get some nourishment first.”

He moved my hair away from my face and stared at me when he asked the next question. “Are you still sore?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Good, because I was worried.”

“You’re saying good because you were worried, or because you want to fuck me?”

He laughed. “Honestly…both. You were driving me crazy all day. It was all I could do not bend you over my desk.”

“Imagine that, and I didn’t even wear a skirt today.” I held out my leg for emphasis. I was dressed in the most utilitarian cargo pants and combat boot combo I owned. I had no idea how I could be appealing to him like this.

“I like you in skirts, Marley, because it lets me see more of your luscious body, but now that I know what it looks like, I don’t need any extra visuals. You look good in anything you wear. Combat boots, cargo pants, garter belts…all of it and especially…none of it.” He ran his lips down my neck and inhaled my scent.

His words made my stomach flip. The fact that he thought I was hot even when I wasn’t trying to be was a crazy turn-on for me. I shifted off him and moved to the other end of the couch because I didn’t trust myself not to rip off his clothes.

It didn’t stop Rick though. He took my foot, untied my combat boot then did the same with the other one. It felt very intimate and sweet. “How are the wedding plans going?”

I relaxed because that was a safe topic for me. “Good, but it’s intimidating being the maid of honour.”

“You don’t want to be the maid of honour?”

“Not really, but I have to be. It’s part of our pact.”

“What pact?”

“When the three of us were younger we all agreed that I’d be Stevie’s maid of honour, Billie would be mine then Stevie would be Billie’s. That way, none of us felt left out. I offered my place to Billie, but she refused it.”

“Why did you want to change places with her?”

“She’ll never be a maid of honour otherwise.” I couldn’t believe what I’d just revealed.

Open mouth—insert one utilitarian combat boot.

I’d basically conveyed that I was never getting married, and I could tell by Rick’s reaction, he was surprised. I quickly added, “I’m just nervous about the responsibilities of it.”

“What are you specifically nervous about, Marley?”

“There’s so much to do, but mostly, because of the toast I need to give.”

“You have any ideas what you’re going to say?” He had removed my boots and socks, and proceeded to massage my feet.

I shrugged. “I really don’t know. I’ll probably make a joke about how Stevie went through a phase where she wore tons of brown clothes, sensible shoes and fell in love with Georgia O’Keeffe paintings. We all thought she was a lesbian. I’m just glad Adam set her straight…get it?”

Rick paused the foot massage, staring at me dubiously. “Marley, you can’t say something like that.”

“Why not? My family jokes like that all the time and Adam, her fiancé, grew up with us, so he knows how we are.”

“Marley, this isn’t just about your family. This is your sister’s special day. Her co-workers will be there, his family, their friends. This is about you getting a chance to vocalise, as a close observer, how special their relationship is. I’m not saying you can’t be funny, but it has to mean something.”

He was right. I knew Stevie and Adam had a special bond, but I had difficulty articulating that. “I know what you’re saying. I’m just not sure where to start.”

“Well if he’s grown up with you then I’m sure you have stories of them together.”

I thought about it for a minute. “I guess I do. Adam started out as the annoying boy next door that sprayed us with his water hose. Then for a while there, he was the bully who stole our toys. At some point, he became our friend and the three of us hung out all the time. I’m not sure when he started looking at Stevie differently, but he definitely did. It took a while longer for her to return those looks, but when she did it was seamless, like they were made for each other. Through it all, they never made me feel like a third wheel. I already feel like Adam is my brother.”

Rick listened intently, taking in my random babbling. He smiled when I finished. “I think you have your speech, Marley.”

I smiled gratefully. He was right. It was so easy to talk to him and articulate all my crazy thoughts. “I guess I do. Thanks, Rick.”

He stopped massaging my feet to answer the door when the deliveryman arrived. The amount of food Rick had ordered for just the two of us perplexed me. I helped Rick get it set up.

“Rick, are we having an orgy? You’ve ordered a ton of food.”

He smiled slyly. “I didn’t know what you would like so I got some variety. Have you ever had an orgy?”

The question shocked me into silence, but I knew he was being serious because he paused for my answer. “I’m not answering that. It’s personal, and we said no personal questions.”

“Actually, Marley,
you
said no personal questions, and it’s fine—you don’t have to answer it. I’ll just assume the answer is yes.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why would you assume that?”

“Well what else can I do if you refuse to answer it? I assume it because you’re embarrassed and don’t want me to know the answer so therefore, it must be yes, although you shouldn’t be embarrassed no matter what the answer is. I’m not judging you. I’m just curious.”

“You shouldn’t assume. You know what they say about assuming.”

Rick sighed cynically. “What are we, in grade school? I only assume because you’ve left me with no alternative.”