going to say that you make me feel safe. That’s all. It’s stupid and
silly and I know it makes me sound like a—oh.”
Charlie was moving up and deep now.
Thrusting harder than before. Holding her tighter than before. Fucking her so
that her toes curled and her head fell back, the tips of her hair brushed her
waist, his fingers plucking at her nipples so she fell right back into another
orgasm. Softer but longer, less intense but sweeter. She let herself relish the
sound of his release. That rough, deep growl of a man lost in his own
satisfaction. Kimber gave into it and when Charlie pulled her in close to him
and kissed her, she let him. When he covered her with the blanket and told her
to sleep, she did.
* * * *
“It was a total fluke,” Kimber said.
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks, coffee cup in hand. She stared. It was that
stare. “What?” Kimber said.
“How in the world was crawling into
bed with that handsome, studly man a fluke?”
“It just was. I was distraught and my
roof had caved in and he was so hot and yummy and nice.” Kimber poured her own
coffee and turned to the window. The flamingo’s reindeer antlers flapped in the
wind jovially. Clarice had put a red nose on it, too. She had a sudden, fast urge
to stomp back over to Charlie’s house and crawl back into bed with him. It had
been very difficult to pull herself out of bed to sneak away.
“I agree with all of that. He is all
those things and a bag of chips.”
“And bi,” Kimber reminded her.
“I’m still not buying it,” Sarah said.
She sipped her coffee and joined her best friend in staring at the crazy pink
lawn ornament.
“He even told me his partner had left
and wanted to come back.” Kimber pressed her forehead to the cold glass.
“He’s a cop for Christ sake! Maybe he
means that kind of partner.” Sarah was pissed now, Kimber could feel the low
level annoyance like heat baking off a radiator.
She laughed. “Maybe, but why do I keep
thinking the other way then?”
“Because you want to! Because Charlie
Brewster, your next door neighbor, hunky, do-gooder, extraordinaire is suddenly
safe as a little fuzzy bunny if you pin that label on him. He loses his power
to possibly hurt you. He cannot bang you and leave you. He cannot make you fall
for him and then dump you. He can forever and ever be the guy who lives next
door to you and you banged once. Because he was nice.”
Kimber stared at her. “Would you like
a cigar to go with your judgment, Dr. Freud?”
“Hey, sometimes a cigar is just a
cigar, sweetheart.”
“Be quiet.”
“So what did he say when you left him
all buff and hard and raring to go?” Sarah asked.
“Um…”
“Um what?”
“I…see, I didn’t quite…”
“ Kimber ! ”
“He was still asleep when I left!” she
blurted.
“Oh, my god. The walk of shame times
ten.”
“What?”
“Walking home in your clothes the next
morning after a hookup. But sneaking out to boot?”
“I walked home in his clothes. Mine
were all wet and whatnot.”
“Jesus. He’s a nice guy. And now you have made it all awkward and stuff. Now he’s going to wake up to…to what ?”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed and she turned on Kimber.
“Jeeze, lighten up. You look like
something from The Exorcist.”
“How did he wake up?”
“I left him a nice numph ,”
Kimber mumbled.
“What?”
“I left him a note. A note! I left him
a nice note and thanked him for rescuing me and for putting me up and for…his
time.”
“His time? His time? Did he
conduct an interview? Jesus, Kimber, you need to march over there and pray he
hasn’t woken up and read your note. Nice or not.”
“I can’t.”
Sarah grabbed her and turned her
forcibly toward the door. Kimber had already showered and changed into a red
hooded sweater and some faded jeans. They were supposed to be going over logos
for their business today. Instead, Sarah was barking at her and now, marching
her to the front door like a bad dog. “You
silly and I know it makes me sound like a—oh.”
Charlie was moving up and deep now.
Thrusting harder than before. Holding her tighter than before. Fucking her so
that her toes curled and her head fell back, the tips of her hair brushed her
waist, his fingers plucking at her nipples so she fell right back into another
orgasm. Softer but longer, less intense but sweeter. She let herself relish the
sound of his release. That rough, deep growl of a man lost in his own
satisfaction. Kimber gave into it and when Charlie pulled her in close to him
and kissed her, she let him. When he covered her with the blanket and told her
to sleep, she did.
* * * *
“It was a total fluke,” Kimber said.
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks, coffee cup in hand. She stared. It was that
stare. “What?” Kimber said.
“How in the world was crawling into
bed with that handsome, studly man a fluke?”
“It just was. I was distraught and my
roof had caved in and he was so hot and yummy and nice.” Kimber poured her own
coffee and turned to the window. The flamingo’s reindeer antlers flapped in the
wind jovially. Clarice had put a red nose on it, too. She had a sudden, fast urge
to stomp back over to Charlie’s house and crawl back into bed with him. It had
been very difficult to pull herself out of bed to sneak away.
“I agree with all of that. He is all
those things and a bag of chips.”
“And bi,” Kimber reminded her.
“I’m still not buying it,” Sarah said.
She sipped her coffee and joined her best friend in staring at the crazy pink
lawn ornament.
“He even told me his partner had left
and wanted to come back.” Kimber pressed her forehead to the cold glass.
“He’s a cop for Christ sake! Maybe he
means that kind of partner.” Sarah was pissed now, Kimber could feel the low
level annoyance like heat baking off a radiator.
She laughed. “Maybe, but why do I keep
thinking the other way then?”
“Because you want to! Because Charlie
Brewster, your next door neighbor, hunky, do-gooder, extraordinaire is suddenly
safe as a little fuzzy bunny if you pin that label on him. He loses his power
to possibly hurt you. He cannot bang you and leave you. He cannot make you fall
for him and then dump you. He can forever and ever be the guy who lives next
door to you and you banged once. Because he was nice.”
Kimber stared at her. “Would you like
a cigar to go with your judgment, Dr. Freud?”
“Hey, sometimes a cigar is just a
cigar, sweetheart.”
“Be quiet.”
“So what did he say when you left him
all buff and hard and raring to go?” Sarah asked.
“Um…”
“Um what?”
“I…see, I didn’t quite…”
“ Kimber ! ”
“He was still asleep when I left!” she
blurted.
“Oh, my god. The walk of shame times
ten.”
“What?”
“Walking home in your clothes the next
morning after a hookup. But sneaking out to boot?”
“I walked home in his clothes. Mine
were all wet and whatnot.”
“Jesus. He’s a nice guy. And now you have made it all awkward and stuff. Now he’s going to wake up to…to what ?”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed and she turned on Kimber.
“Jeeze, lighten up. You look like
something from The Exorcist.”
“How did he wake up?”
“I left him a nice numph ,”
Kimber mumbled.
“What?”
“I left him a note. A note! I left him
a nice note and thanked him for rescuing me and for putting me up and for…his
time.”
“His time? His time? Did he
conduct an interview? Jesus, Kimber, you need to march over there and pray he
hasn’t woken up and read your note. Nice or not.”
“I can’t.”
Sarah grabbed her and turned her
forcibly toward the door. Kimber had already showered and changed into a red
hooded sweater and some faded jeans. They were supposed to be going over logos
for their business today. Instead, Sarah was barking at her and now, marching
her to the front door like a bad dog. “You
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