Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30
Rainey
“Shit! I’m so late!”
I’m supposed to meet Brody for dinner in ten minutes, but instead, I’m rooting through my purse looking for my keys. “Where the hell are you, you little bastards?”
It’s going to take at least twenty minutes to walk there. I grab my cell off the counter and pull up my Uber app. I try walking whenever possible because downtown parking is an absolute bitch, but at times like this, Uber is my BFF. The app tells me my driver will be here in five minutes, so I resume digging through my bag. Why do all purses have built-in black holes? I swear it doesn’t matter; big or small, every handbag I’ve ever owned has the ability to swallow something I really need. And the most annoying part is when I do finally find said item, it’s somewhere I’ve already looked three times! It’s more mystifying than socks disappearing in the dryer .
“Finally!” I shout when my finger loops through the keyring.
I fling open my door and shriek when I see the man standing in the hallway.
“Hi, darlin’,” he says with a wink. “It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for you to come out for twenty minutes.”
“What are you doing here, Brody? You were supposed to meet me at the restaurant.”
He holds up a brown bag. “I was already there. I thought takeout might be a better option.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You did, huh? And why would you think that?”
He raises his other hand, producing a DVD case. “Dinner and a movie.”
I smirk when I see which movie he’s picked out. “ Top Gun , huh?”
“If you ask me, Iceman is way hotter, but I’m man enough to give Maverick another chance.”
I laugh and grab the bag of delicious-smelling food out of his hand. “Come on in. I just need to cancel my Uber, then we can dish up.”
Brody walks into my kitchen like he owns the place, opening drawers until he finds the one he wants. Pulling out two pairs of chopsticks, he says, “Go put the movie in and have a seat. I’ll get this. Do you want the broccoli beef or Kung Pao chicken?”
I can’t fight my smile when I see he chose my favorite dish without having to ask. “Kung Pao for the win, baby.”
He returns my smile before pulling two beers out of the fridge. “Movie. Couch. Now, woman.”
I head over to the DVD player and pop the movie in. “Okay, bossy pants. ”
We settle into the couch and dig into our respective cardboard containers of MSG-laden goodness. I’ll admit. I was worried this might be weird, but being here with Brody, doing something so domesticated is oddly comforting. Maybe it’s because we’ve known each other for so long, so there’s none of the first-date awkwardness you’d expect. Not that this is a date, of course. We’re just two friends hanging out and enjoying a meal. So what if we’re planning to have sex afterward? Not date-ish at all.
I honestly expected Brody to jump me the second we stepped into my apartment, but he hasn’t made a single pass at me, and the movie is almost over. He hasn’t even dropped a single innuendo, which is very out of character. Has he changed his mind about our arrangement? That’s stupid, right? He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to have sex with me. I study him as the credits roll, and he looks perfectly relaxed. My brows furrow in confusion as I try figuring out what’s next.
Brody reaches over to run his index finger over the crease between my eyebrows. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Have you changed your mind?” Damn it, I can’t stand how insecure I sound.
He blinks rapidly. “Why the hell would I do that?”
I gesture to the two feet of space in between us. “Because you’ve been sitting on the other end of the couch all night. And you haven’t cracked a single dirty joke or tried feeling me up.”
“Relax, Rainey. I know you’re dying to get in my pants, but a man needs to be eased into these sorts of things.” He lets out a large gasp and presses his hand against his chest. “Wait a minute…are you a sex maniac or something? Should I be worried? Oh my god, you are, aren’t you ? ”
I roll my eyes at his theatrics. “You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?”
He scoots closer and lifts my chin with his finger. “Have you changed your mind?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Thank fuck,” he says on an exhale.
“So, what are we waiting for?”
He searches my eyes for a beat. “I have no idea.”
I smile. “Then kiss me, stupid.”
Brody flashes his pearly whites. “Yes, ma’am.”
He wraps his arm around my waist, simultaneously pulling me into him and guiding me onto my back. I can feel every inch of his hard body. His quads tighten, the ripples on his abdomen become more pronounced, and the pulsing of his thick, eager cock against my stomach makes my inner muscles clench, desperate to have him inside of me.
Brody fists the hair at the back of my neck with his other hand and slowly— far too slowly —lowers his mouth to mine. I think I moan when his tongue slides into my mouth, encouraging me to meet him stroke for stroke. Sweet baby Jesus, this man knows how to kiss. I’m pretty sure he could make me come from this alone. Everything about the way he dominates my mouth screams possession. He’s making carnal promises with his lips and tongue, telling me he’s going to own me before this is over. The intensity of it should freak me out, but I don’t care as long as he doesn’t stop.
I’m not sure how long it takes before my entire body is slicked with sweat. I’m shivering in his arms from the need he’s stoking inside of me. Brody pulls back as a full-body shudder courses through me, making me whimper.
“Why’d you stop? ”
He searches my eyes for a moment before a small frown creases his face. “You feeling okay?”
I match his frown. “Well, I was . Why’d you stop? We were just getting to the good stuff.”
Brody purses his lips. “Don’t take this the wrong way, honey, but you look like hell.”
Dafuq?
I angrily shove his giant body off of me. “Screw you, Brody! If you didn’t want to do this, you could’ve just been honest with me before getting me worked up.”
He smirks. “A, I’m glad you’re finally admitting how much I affect you. B, I definitely do want to do this ,” he says, gesturing to the hard-on punching against his zipper. “And C, I wasn’t trying to be a dick. I’m genuinely concerned about you. You’re really clammy and pale all of a sudden.”
I’d hate to admit that when I clench my fists, my palms do feel unusually slimy. I just attributed it to the flush one gets when they’re aroused. Now that we’re not making out, I can also associate the flutters in my stomach to something a lot less pleasant. As if on cue, my stomach makes a horribly loud grumbling noise. I clutch my abdomen and gasp when a sharp cramp follows it. My eyes widen in horror when I realize what’s about to happen. Bile rises in my throat while my insides continue to wrench.
“Oh, fuck,” I mutter as I leap off the couch and run down the hall to my en suite bathroom.
I barely manage to lock the door and make it to the toilet before all hell breaks loose. My body is violently ejecting my dinner from both ends. Okay, here’s the thing. I’m a Labor & Delivery nurse—I see a lot of gross shit on a daily basis. Sometimes literally, since it’s fairly common to have a bowel movement while pushing a human being out of your vag. Regardless, broadcasting the vile things that are coming out of my body right now is not something one wants to do near the man they were about to get naked with. I say a little prayer Brody stayed in the living room and isn’t bearing witness to all the embarrassing noises echoing throughout the bathroom.
Knock. Knock.
“Rainey, are you okay in there?”
I groan and inwardly curse that luck isn’t on my side. Thank fuck I had the foresight to turn the fan on because the smell alone would make someone run for the hills.
“I’ll be fine,” I yelp as another stomach cramp hits. “You should just go home, Brody. I’m fairly certain I have food poisoning, so we’re going to have to call it a night.”
“I don’t like leaving you like this,” he says through the door.
I heave into the wastebasket perched on my lap and proceed to vomit horrid, orange-tinted chunks of chicken and rice.
“I’ll be fine,” I insist. “Just go. I’ll call you tomorrow to reschedule.”
I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, trying to calm my gag reflex. I’m relieved when I’m met with silence on the other side of the door. I press down the flusher to help lessen the putrid stench coming from the bowl, but I don’t dare leave the toilet, knowing more is coming fast. After who knows how long, I finally feel confident I’ve expelled everything from my system. My mortification returns a thousand times over when I open the door and see Brody passed out on my bed. Dear lord, how long has he been in here? I take in the scene and see a giant sports bottle filled with water sitting on the nightstand next to a pack of saltine crackers. The wastebasket from the guest bathroom is sitting on the floor on the empty side of the bed with a freshly changed liner. I cautiously drink as much water as I can tolerate and slowly inch under the covers, no longer having enough energy to care how awful I must smell right now or what he must’ve heard. I don’t even remember closing my eyes before falling asleep.