13. Those Werent Coyotes You Heard
CHAPTER 13
THOSE WEREN'T COYOTES YOU HEARD
MARS
W e’re quiet as we pack up, awkwardness filling the room while we circle each other. I focus on folding my clothes, resisting the urge to run my fingers along the silky fabric of Ivy’s dress where it lays across the bed.
Ivy hums to herself, off key and high pitched like she’s forcing it through protesting vocal chords. I don’t know what to do to dispel the tension, but maybe that’s not my job. Since Ivy knows best, she can figure out how we move forward.
I blow out a long breath. That’s the hurt talking—I know it is. But the pain needs some free rein, and I don’t have the will or energy to bury it.
I zip up my bag as Ivy grabs her purse. “Ready?” I ask, not meeting her eyes.
“Ready,” she says too brightly. I have to give her credit for how hard she’s trying. I reward her with a smile that feels too tight. Her shoulders dip but she keeps the forced smile on her face.
After checking out, we’re heading out the front doors when an elderly couple I recognize from the wedding but who I don’t know come through the lobby. I catch a snippet of their conversation.
“I swear, Doris, those weren’t coyotes we heard last night. That was two people having S-E-X,” the man whispers loudly to the woman.
Doris plants her hands on her hips. “Then why did you hurry me back to the room if we weren’t in any danger?”
The man shrugs. “Because, knowing you, you would’ve interrupted them and given them pointers.” He bounces his eyebrows at her. She laughs and pats him on the cheek.
My eyes go wide as I quickly guide Ivy out of the lobby. Her face is a shade of red I’ve never seen before .
When we reach the car, I drop the bags and bury my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking with laughter. Ivy’s chanting, “Oh my god. Oh my god,” like she did last night, but this time sounding panicked.
She smacks my shoulder. “It’s not funny. They heard us.”
I raise my head, but I can’t stop laughing. She smacks my shoulder again, stomping her foot like a toddler, which makes me laugh harder. Ivy looks like she’s about to murder me.
All the tension, or most of it, leaves my body, and I pull her into a hug, stopping her from smacking me again. She wiggles for a bit but then melts into my arms. “Oh, Ives, that’s the best thing that’s happened today.” Besides waking up next to you.
The car ride back to Wavecrest goes better than I expected. Ivy keeps up her campaign to fight through any awkwardness, not giving me a moment to wallow in what feels like her rejection. The Coyote Conspiracy, as we started calling it, gave us an opening to talk about what happened between us, painting it in humor. Haha, isn’t it hilarious that we fucked, and I’ll never be the same?
It’s a brittle truce, and I can feel that our friendship is at a tipping point. I’m afraid if I bring up what future us looks like, she’ll shut me down. I can’t lose her, but I also refuse to forget what happened.
For a moment, I let myself enjoy the memories. Not only when I was inside her, or when I had her taste on my tongue—those images are seared into my brain probably for the rest of my life. But how she looked first thing in the morning, her hair a mess around her face, pillow lines across her cheeks, and her skin warm with sleep. How she’d put on socks for bed, remove them, then put them back on all before the lights went out. How she looked like a dream in her sleep shorts and shirt. How she looked like mine. Felt like mine, even if it was only for a weekend.
Ivy reaches over and pokes my cheek with her red-tipped finger.
“What are you thinking about over there, with your little secret smile?”
My first instinct is to lie and deflect, to keep our delicate peace. But, on the other hand, fuck it.
“That I haven’t had a good dry hump since freshman year in college. So, thanks for that.” There’s a second of silence from her side of the car, then she drops her head into her hands and laughs. I let out a quick, relieved breath.
“It’s definitely moved up in my ranking of preferred sex acts. That was way hotter than I thought it could be,” Ivy says, idly twirling a lock of hair around her finger.
Okay, I guess we’re doing this.
“Do you have these rankings memorized, or are they in a spreadsheet somewhere?” I keep my eyes on the road but I’m dying to look at her, to see if she’s blushing as hard as I imagine.
“Why not both?” She waves her hand around like everyone has a running list of their favorite positions.
“What’s number one?”
There’s a moment of silence where I don’t know if she’s contemplating answering my question or jumping out of the car. The silence has weight, density. It presses against me, keeping me from reaching for her.
“You really want to know?” It sounds like she’s asking, do you really want to jump off this high cliff?
“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” Another stretch of silence and I flex my knuckles over the steering wheel.
“I love getting bent over a table and taken from behind. Hard,” she says without a hint of shyness. She smiles at me like she didn’t paint the filthiest pictures in my brain. My cock jumps. Pain. I’m in pain . I will make that happen…soon.
“What else?” My brain says turn back now , but my dick says keep going .
“Are you asking as my friend or...something else?”
“Back at the hotel you sounded like you wanted to keep it just friends. No more of this .” I wave at my crotch like an idiot.
“Yeah, but that was then, and this is now,” she says in a steady, sly voice. Eyes on the road, buddy.
“ Then was an hour ago, Ives. So tell me, what do you really want? Because I’m good with staying friends if that’s what you need. But I’m really good with adding some benefits to the friendship. Especially if it means you riding my face on the regular. Guess which option I prefer.”
“Okay, wow. That...that is an option.”
“Take your time to think about it, I don’t want you to rush.”
“I’m in,” she says quickly.
“You’re...”
“In, yes. I’m in.”
“And by ‘in’ you mean...” I need her to spell it out for me because I want to make sure we’re on the same page.
“Listen, Mr. Steady, what we did back in the magic hotel room—and on the magic lawn—was hot. And it had been a while since?—”
“You’ve had this much hotness.” I wave at my crotch again because, apparently, it’s my new move. “Don’t forget about the magic tree, too.”
Ivy smacks me in the shoulder with the back of her hand, laughing. Her laugh is one of my favorite things about her. She throws her head back and lets loose with everything she has. It’s loud and joyful, like it comes from the deepest parts of her.
“We’re really doing this?” I ask. “Because I don’t want you having another freak out every time we’re together. I’m not sure my ego can take it.” The closer we get to Wavecrest, the more reality is setting in. “Should we have ground rules?”
“What, like no butt stuff? Because I’ll be a little sad if that’s off the table.”
“Holy shit, Ivy. I’m driving.” Another laugh and I’m so painfully hard I might have to pull off the highway.
“Fine. What kind of ground rules?”
“If we do this, we only do it with each other for however long this lasts.”
“Agreed,” she says quickly.
“If we’re doing this, we’re all in. No more freak outs. No more should we or shouldn’t we . If you want to stop for any reason, then we stop.”
“Agreed. No more freak outs. Also, I don’t freak out.” I snort at her declaration.
“Right. Last point, unless you have something else to add. Condoms always. I went through a pregnancy scare in college, and I really don’t want a repeat.”
“Agreed,” she says again, softly this time. “I kinda like that you’re approaching this like one of your work projects. All capable and shit.”
“Fucking is serious business, Ivy. I want to make sure we have all our ducks in a row.”
“Quack fucking quack.”
IVY
We get back to Wavecrest a few hours later, and Mars pulls up to my building. I rent a tiny apartment for the moment, but as soon as I see more profit from my business, I’m buying one of those sweet little bungalows closer to the beach. Maybe with enough room for a dog.
Mars gets out and pops the trunk for me, and I reach in to get my bag. The last hour in the car was filled with delicious tension, but some of the awkwardness has returned now that we’re back in town.
I reach out my hand like I want to shake his. Okay, a lot of awkwardness. He looks down with a bemused smirk.
“What’s this?”
“A gesture of friendship and gratitude for driving the whole way.”
He leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek. “I guess we should figure out the PDA situation.”
“I like your hugs.” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it.
He chuckles and wraps me in a tight hug that’s more than friendly. His lips press into the soft spot below my ear. “Thanks for being my plus-one. Thanks for going above and beyond. Thanks for riding me like a rocking horse.”
I laugh, still wrapped in his arms. His salt air smell surrounds me, and my body rapidly heats. Everything that happened between us this weekend has unlocked my frozen-in-amber libido, and I find myself wanting to jump Mars right here in the street.
I press my lips to his cheek, wanting a little hint of his taste, to feel a bit of what we had last night. His arms tighten around me. It spurs me on, and I move my lips to the corner of his mouth.
The wind picks up, and I shiver but keep my lips where they are. Where they want to be. Mars pulls back enough to see my face but doesn’t let me go. His deep brown eyes roam over my face, settling on my lips.
I’m barely aware that we’re standing in the street, behind his car, with people walking by and the wind whipping around us. Nothing really registers except for me in his arms, and the feel of his breath brushing across my cheek.
It’s not clear who moves first but his lips are on mine. Or mine are on his. Either way, our kiss rockets past tentative right to heated and explosive. I moan as his teeth catch my bottom lip, and his tongue meets mine in a dance that makes my knees weak. Mars can fucking kiss.
My hands fist the back of his jacket. He tastes like the coffee we stopped for on the way home, and I want to go back for another cup. Maybe go back to the hotel room to continue our exploration of each other.
He groans into my mouth when I wrap my leg around his thigh. The way I want to strip him naked right here in the street feels insane. But that’s what his mouth does to me.
A horn sounds, and we jump apart.
Mars’ hands are on my upper arms keeping me from stumbling. I’ve lost some of the use of my legs and can’t take my eyes off his mouth. I feel like a starving woman, and his kiss is the best meal.
He gives me a quick peck on the cheek and lets me go. He backs away, only stumbling a little over a rock in the road.
“You want to come up?” I’m not ready for this weekend to end, and I’m a little too eager to jumpstart this friends-with-bennies thing we agreed on.
Mars smiles at me but shakes his head. A little pit of disappointment lodges in my belly. “I want to, but I need to get ready for the work week. Do some laundry. Buy some condoms,” he says, his eyes dancing with heat and mischief. “But we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agree. Picking up my bag, I give him one last kiss on the cheek before turning around and heading inside.
Anticipation lights me up. We didn’t talk about who we could tell, but I kind of want to shout it from the rooftops. I slept with Mars fucking Brooks and I’m going to do it again.