Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Joey
DFW @BodaciousBuckaroo211
You know, it’s dangerous for you to be here in the frozen food section…
19 ?11 ?108
For the first time in a year, I don’t call Buckaroo out on one of his silly movie quotes. Of course, I know it’s from My Blue Heaven, and of course I could come up with any number of likenesses between Buckaroo and Vinnie, but now that I know he’s actually Dallas, I don’t even want to try to goad him into an argument.
And, fuck, how am I so clueless? Dallas and I had a whole conversation at the beach about our names. I know his initials are D.F.W., and I never put it together. But then again, why would I? It’s not like I ever would have suspected my boyfr…neighbor and my online nemesis were the same person. Hell, even if I had made the connection, I would’ve assumed it’s a coincidence.
But we started all this on a strange coincidence, didn’t we? What were the odds that Dallas would get me as his customer service agent while he was moving in across the hall? If someone had told me then that he was also Bodacious Buckaroo, I’d have called them insane.
I don’t know what I’m going to do when I see him tonight. I blew him off on Sunday and told him I was too tired to hang out last night, but that I wanted to see him tonight, for sure. And I do want to see him. Sort of.
Hell, I miss him, and I really don’t want things to end between us. Pretending like I don’t know him from Cackle would be a risk, but so would laying it all out and hoping he won’t end things the second he finds out I’m JoeyB. All day, I’ve spent my time between chat requests obsessing over the two options, mentally listing the pros and cons of each.
If I tell him, I could lose him.
If I don’t tell him, I’ll always be terrified he’ll find out, and I would lose him.
Everything ends with me losing him.
Objectively, I know that some of my fear is fueled by my anxiety and the underlying belief that I’m not worth the trouble it would cause Dallas to work this out with me. But that doesn’t stop me from believing it and coming up with all kinds of doomsday scenarios .
He finds out, calls me a liar, and leaves.
He finds out, laughs in my face, and leaves.
He finds out, says he doesn’t care, but deep down inside, he resents me for trolling him all these months. Then he figures out that we’re fundamentally incompatible and leaves.
I know there has to be a chance we can work this all out and be together, but my brain won’t let me develop any kind of scenario that plays out that way.
I can’t tell him. Not tonight. Maybe in a week, or in a month when I know where this thing is going and exactly how solid we are, I can drum up some situation where I “figure it out,” and we can laugh about it.
As soon as I sign out of my work program at the end of my shift, I get a text from my sister.
Callie: So? What did you decide?
I don’t need clarification. We’ve been trying to hash this out since Sunday.
Me: I want to tell him, but I don’t think I can. Not yet. Not until I know where this thing is going between us.
Callie: I think honesty is the way to go, but I’ve got your back. Whatever you decide .
Me: Thanks, sis. I love you.
Callie: I love you, too. You’ve got this, girl.
Hopping out of my office chair, I head into my bedroom to pick an outfit and take a shower. I spend a lot of time doing my hair, blow drying it into fat waves, before applying some light makeup. I pull on the tight jeans and the lightweight sweater I chose, leaving my feet bare for the moment. I can pick shoes when I find out what Dallas wants to do tonight.
My phone chimes, and I take a stuttering breath before opening the text from Dallas.
Dallas: Hey. How are you feeling? Still up for getting together tonight?
Me: Much better, thanks. And yes, I’d love to see you.
Dallas: I want to see you, too. Do you want to go out? Or chill at home?
I don’t think I can relax at this point, but there’s a much better chance of that happening in my own home than out somewhere in public, where I’d already feel anxious even if I wasn’t keeping a huge secret.
Me: We can hang here. I can order food. Does Chinese sound good tonight?
Dallas: Sounds great. But don’t order until I get there. I want to put it on my card. It’s my turn to feed you. I can be there in five minutes, if that works for you.
Five minutes? My stomach drops, but I steel my spine.
Me: Perfect. See you in a few.
Four minutes later, there’s a knock on my door. I’ve been pacing like a madwoman in front of it since my last text message, so I pause and count to ten before answering the door. Striving for a calm exterior, I smile and wave Dallas inside.
He looks amazing in a pair of loose jeans and a fitted T, but something is wrong with his face. He’s smiling, but the grin doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks…nervous.
Feeling like an ass for avoiding him for two days and causing him to feel shaky about us , I dart forward. Leaning into him, I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tightly. He goes still, stiffening for a moment before relaxing into the hug and squeezing me back. Loosening my grip slightly, I peer up at him, and without pause, he dips his head and shoulders to press a sweet kiss to my lips.
Releasing my death grip on his waist, I take his hand and lead him into the living room. I set delivery menus for a few Chinese restaurants on the coffee table earlier, and Dallas has me choose my favorite place before we decide on Szechwan chicken, beef and broccoli, steamed rice, and a double order of cream cheese wantons. He places the order while I grab us some sodas from the fridge.
When I return, Dallas pulls me down onto the couch next to him and throws an arm around my shoulders. I snuggle into his side as he scrolls through the streaming options, looking for something we’d both want to watch.
This feels good. It feels normal .
But even though I’ve relaxed, there’s a sliver of underlying tension of which I can’t let go. Keeping quiet about my discovery and our online relationship is tantamount to lying. I know I can’t keep this up, but tonight, I just want everything to be perfect.
We settle on a romcom, and when the food arrives, we eat and laugh, and my nerves finally settle. I force myself not to think about my secret, and by the time the movie ends, we’re stretched out on the couch together with me laying on Dallas’ chest and listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart.
Lifting my head, I shut out the intrusive thoughts and press my lips to his. His kiss is soft, almost hesitant, at first, but he quickly takes over, pulling me up so I don’t have to stretch my neck as we make out like a couple of teenagers.
Somehow, Dallas manages to stand while holding onto me, and I end up clinging to him like a koala bear like usual as he carries me to my bedroom. We never stop kissing, his tongue dancing with mine as his hands knead my ass.
Laying me on the bed, he tenderly undresses me, kissing each bare inch of skin he reveals until I’m writhing with need. As he strips off his own clothes, I point to my nightstand. He jerks open the drawer to find the condoms I stashed there this morning. I already opened it for easy access, and he smiles as he plucks one out of the box and tosses it to the bed beside me.
God, he’s so beautiful. He looks like a Greek god, naked and breathing hard as his eyes travel down the length of me. Wrapping his hand around his erection, he strokes it gently before meeting my gaze.
“You are so fucking perfect,” he breathes, and fresh heat blooms in my core.
“Please, Dallas,” I whisper as I spread my legs and arch my back.
It doesn’t escape me that I’m not feeling even the smallest bit of anxiety right now. The heat in his eyes tells me he likes what he sees. The hitch in his breathing tells me he wants me as much as I want him. The white of his knuckles as he squeezes his cock tells me he’s just as eager as I am to get it inside me.
There’s no second-guessing myself as I stretch out my arms, silently begging him to hurry. He keeps his eyes on me as he rips open the condom and rolls it on, then he’s stretching his long body over mine, pushing me down into the mattress with his delicious weight.
He kisses me for a few seconds––or maybe it was hours––then moves up until his hips settle between my thighs. This position puts his pecs at eye level for me, and without thinking about it, I lift my head and flick my tongue against one of his nipples.
Dallas sucks in a sharp breath before reaching down to slip his hand beneath my left thigh. He lifts it and pushes it out, opening me up until the head of his cock nudges against my entrance.
“Are you ready, Josette?” he whispers.
“Yes,” I moan before licking his other nipple and adding, “Give it to me. Please.”
He grunts as he rolls his hips, pushing into me in a slow, steady motion. I moan on an exhale as he fills me up, stretching me in the most delicious way. I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my heels into his ass, pushing him deeper on each roll of his hips.
Dallas plants his hands against the mattress on either side of my head, then he pushes himself up and curves his spine so he can press his mouth to mine. Our kisses are wet and sloppy as he pumps his hips, plunging into me as I lift my own body to meet him thrust for thrust .
“Josette,” he groans after breaking off our kiss. “You feel so fucking good.”
“So do you,” I huff out on heavy breaths.
His own breathing turns more erratic, and he shifts his body, changing the angle so his cock hits a spot inside me that makes me see stars. Unintelligible words flow through my lips as the tension inside me winds tighter and tighter.
The pressure suddenly bursts, and I throw my head back, my mouth open in a silent scream as pleasure rips through me, setting my nerves on fire. My inner walls clench around Dallas’ cock, squeezing him as he pumps his hips in a quick, erratic motion. He’s chasing his own release, and all I can do is hold on for the ride until he finally shouts and plunges deep, freezing as he fills the condom.
Leaning down, he presses soft kisses to my lips before rolling off me. We lay side-by-side for a moment, catching our breath, then Dallas whispers for me to give him a minute while he heads into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he returns, he climbs back into bed next to me and opens his arms in invitation.
I roll over, tucking myself into his side. His arm moves around me, holding me close while his fingers toy with the ends of my hair. Neither of us speaks as we cuddle, and soon, Dallas’ breathing slows down into the long, even breaths of sleep.
I lie awake for a long time, thinking about him and us and the secret I’m keeping. I should’ve told him. Should’ve put it out there and let the chips fall where they may. As amazing as what we just did felt, I know I’ve only made matters worse by sleeping with him again before hashing it all out.
It feels deceptive.
And now it’s going to be even harder to tell him the truth. That I knew he was Buckaroo, didn’t confess, and had sex with him under false pretenses.
Fuck, he’s never going to forgive me, is he?
I know I’m spiraling. That my anxiety is making me a bit irrational, but I can’t control it. When Dallas finds out I’m JoeyB, he’s going to dump me like yesterday’s trash.
And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.