CHAPTER FOUR #3
But he didn’t.
He nodded. “You’re right. I did. I could have taken the high road, and I didn’t.
I figured out your buttons and how to push them any chance I get.
To be honest, my ego was a little bruised after you ghosted me like that.
” He tilted his head to the side and the faintest of playful smiles lifted one corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“We’re probably not going to remember any of this tomorrow,” he said with a chuckle in his voice.
“Probably not. I’m pretty drunk.”
“I normally wouldn’t be, but I’ve had like nothing to eat all day, then barfed it all up on the ferry.”
I snorted. “Me too.”
His eyes lit up like twin, blue flames and he pried his big body off the bed again, moving to the spot on the floor where I’d carelessly dropped his bag.
The crinkling sound of a bag echoed through the room, then he hauled out an enormous Costco-brand bag of mixed nuts.
“I’m willing to share. Seeing as you’re already a little nuts.
” He set the open bag down in the middle of the bed and scooped a handful out for himself.
Smirking, I leaned forward and scooped some out for myself.
“Want to watch a movie?” he asked. “I’ve got like six different streaming services.”
Crunching, and still feeling like I was in some kind of messed up twilight zone, or parallel universe—one where Jagger McEvoy and I were actually civil to each other—all I could do was nod.
He was on his feet again, then brought his laptop out of his bag and over to the bed.
I inched myself up to the headboard and leaned back, closing my eyes and welcoming the salty rush of sustenance into my body.
Acutely aware of the fact that this was no more than a double bed—queen-sized bed my ass—and how warm the man beside me was.
He was also enormous, and his shoulders were as broad as a doorframe.
Okay, maybe that was a drunk exaggeration, but it felt like he was taking up a solid three-quarters of the bed.
I had to keep my hands in my lap, so I didn’t risk brushing my shoulder against his.
That didn’t stop me from inhaling as deep as I possibly could, like I’d just stepped outside after a summer rain, and pulled all that deliciously scented body wash of his into my lungs.
Fuck, I was drunk.
He opened up his laptop, and it instantly turned on and started up.
“What are you into?” he asked, taking another sip of the wine bottle before reaching for more nuts from the bag then yanking it up the bed so it sat between our thighs.
“Excuse me?”
He gave me a weird, confused look. “What kind of movies are you into? Jesus, what did you think I meant?”
Nothing. Nothing at all.
Get yourself together, for fuck’s sake.
A bunch of previously open windows popped up and almost instantly the heavy panting sounds of a woman, and the slap-slap of skin on skin filled the room.
My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped.
“Whoops!” Jagger said with a laugh, bringing up the window with the sex on it—the alien porn, to be more specific—and exiting out of that window. “Sorry about that.”
I climbed off the bed, hands on my hips, and glared at him. “What the fuck kind of game is this, McEvoy?”
“Game?” Like he hadn’t just shown me his perverse kinks, he grabbed another handful of nuts and tossed them into his mouth. “What the hell are you going on about?”
“Did you have a woman in your hotel room last night and you showed her that ?” I pointed at the laptop.
His brows narrowed. “No. I was in the hotel room by myself and I jerked off.” His head tilted to the side like he’d done a few times this evening. “Are you trying to slut shame me for watching porn and masturbating, Elsa?”
What the fuck was with calling me “Elsa”?
“I … no … just … you can’t tell me you didn’t plan for me to hear and see that.”
“I absolutely fucking didn’t. I didn’t plan the weather.
I didn’t plan on the fact that we were on the same ferry.
Or that the terminal would be damaged and the ferry wouldn’t be able to dock.
Or that we’d wind up at the same bed-and-breakfast, in the same room.
Am I embarrassed? Maybe a little. But not really.
Yanking it is healthy. It helps me sleep, particularly when my knee is bothering me and the pain meds haven’t kicked in yet.
Which was last night because I was on my feet all fucking day. ”
“But alien porn?” I protested. “Seriously?”
He rolled his eyes, managing to look pretty annoyed.
“Oh my fucking god, Raina. I’m a sci-fi geek.
Once in a while, I go a little deeper into the role-playing clips and find something where the ‘actors’” he used air quotes, “dress up like aliens, or robots, or space people. They’re all consenting adults.
And the only person I’m abusing is myself.
” He shook his head. “I’m not going to let you stand there and try to make me feel bad about watching porn and relieving a little stress.
If that’s how this is going to go, then we can just turn off the lights and forget the movie.
” He scoffed and shook his head. The lines between his brows grew deeper the more irritated he got.
I felt like no more than a chastised child who just tracked mud into the house.
“I … I’m sorry,” I murmured, twisting the hem of my pajama shirt around my fingers. “I was just surprised.”
All he did was grunt. After a brief pause and another sip of wine, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “Have you ever watched porn?”
My back went straight. “Of course I have.”
“And yet you felt like you could come after me for watching it?”
“I said I was sorry.” I slid back onto the bed with a defeated sigh. “Yes. Okay? I’ve watched porn. And you’re right. Masturbation is normal and healthy, and we’re all entitled to pleasure. Blah, blah, blah. ”
Nodding, he opened a new browser window. “What kind of stuff do you watch?”
My head shook like I was trying to dislodge water from my ears. “Nope. Not happening. Way too personal.”
“Oh, come on. You just found out I like alien porn. You need to at least tell me something so I don’t feel like this confessional is totally one-sided.”
“I don’t think priests confess anything in confessional.”
“I don’t think you’re a priest,” he quipped back, his eyes dancing and sparkling like I’ve told a joke.
I rolled my eyes as heat climbed up my chest, my neck, and into my cheeks. “I … normal stuff.”
“Normal is a very subjective term.” Rather than type in Netflix or Disney, he typed in a free porn site and started scrolling through the thumbnails of videos.
“Is it gangbangs?” he asked. “Or DILFs? Older man, younger woman? Like daddy-Dom stuff?” He was all cheeky smiles now, and my body was on literal fire.
“I know,” he exclaimed, “it’s threesomes, but where the guys are giving it to each other too, right? ”
“It’s cunnilingus, all right?” I blurted out. “I like watching a guy go down on a woman. Are you happy?”
He closed the window to the porn site. “Extremely. However, I have questions.”
“No.”
“Is there a specific shot, or angle that you prefer? A certain position? Because you can be rather creative with that sex act and which camera angles you film it from. Is she on her back? Her belly? Standing on her head?”
Growling, I stared straight ahead at the laptop screen and the waterfall scene of his wallpaper.
“I like the camera angle to be from her point of view. Like she’s looking down her body at him and his head is between her thighs.
So like I’m her and watching it. Are you happy?
” I crossed my arms over my chest. This Q&A is over. ”
Moving the laptop to the foot of the bed, he ditched his glasses on the nightstand beside him, rolled to his belly with ninja-like finesse, and crawled up toward me until he was at my feet. Then he shouldered my knees apart. “You mean this view?”