CHAPTER 11
Palmer
“Yeah, you like that?”
I grimace at the ceiling, mutter a quick, “mm-hm,” then close my eyes and wonder how much longer this is going to take.
God, this guy is so awkward. I love some good dirty talk, but I have always been under the impression that both parties involved should be enjoying themselves so it’s not weird. I can confirm that initial impression as of this moment.
The man between my legs has been eating me out for the past fifteen minutes, and I’m pretty sure he took the phrase, “You wanna chew all of my bubblegum” literally because, I swear to god, I feel teeth on my clit. He keeps trying to call me a good girl and get me to tell him how good it all feels.
Lucky for me, I just told him I was shy and that’s hard for me. Honestly though, does he not notice that I’m not moaning? This isn’t that complicated.
When we had been messaging in the app, he had promised that he was some sort of pussy god who could make me come faster than I ever have before. Thus far, he’s at least ten minutes past the record, and the outcome isn’t looking good for the long-term.
This is the third guy I’ve hooked up with since Friday, and he is… something.
Initially, I had decided I was only going to fool around with guys on the weekends, but that quickly fell to the wayside.
Now I get to find myself on a Sunday evening, leaned back on a questionable futon belonging to a guy in grad school who fancies himself to be a feminist, his head situated between my thighs and his mouth fully chewing on my labia.
And to think I actually went and got a Brazilian just for this.
At least he’s better than the guy who just stared at me without making any noise. That was super fucking weird.
Okay, “better” isn’t necessarily accurate. More like gives fewer “murder and wear your skin as a suit” vibes.
So far, this whole ho phase has been less than enjoyable to say the least, but Mama didn’t raise a quitter, and I will be damned if I give up before I’ve gotten an actual orgasm!
I’m pondering what sort of medical emergency I might need to fake to make this all stop when my watch vibrates. It’s a text from Lindy.
(4:02 pm) Lindy: Hey! I know you’re probably having your brains fucked out right now, but we’re going to have a fire tonight and cook out since we don’t have kids tomorrow and it’s a flex day. Chase is inviting a couple friends from work. Wanna come?
Without a doubt, I know I would much rather be there than where I am currently. I might not be getting off, but at least the conversation will be good.
And if I’m lucky, Bailey will be there, too, in which case I might actually also be able to get off.
I tap on the back of the gentleman’s head who is gnawing on my nether regions.
He stops and looks at me, panting as if he has been running a marathon; if this man was half as effective as he thinks he is, I wouldn’t be contemplating whether I should get a rabies shot.
Gesturing toward my wrist, I say, “Hey, I’m so sorry to cut this short, but my friend just messaged me to say she needs me.
” I smile apologetically. Three men in, and I am already an expert at talking myself out of an awkward goodbye.
He sticks his bottom lip out. “Dang. And you were so close!”
I nod. “I know. What a bummer.” I begin to sit up, reaching for my pants.
“Hang on.” He puts his palms on my legs. “Let me get you off really quick, then you can go.” He disappears back between my thighs and sucks with a renewed resolve.
After a quick faked orgasm and a lie that we definitely should do this again some time, I am out the door, contemplating what to wear, especially if Bailey is going to be there.
* * *
An hour later, I’m at Chase and Lindy’s house, clad in a baby-pink sundress that accentuates my tits and is too short to wear to school, sipping on a frozen daiquiri slushy.
Deciding to forego shorts underneath was a decision I hope I don’t regret later, but the forecast didn’t say it was supposed to be windy, so I am putting my trust in the weatherman, who is rarely right.
I had argued with Lindy about buying this dress, because when would I ever wear it?
Her logic was that I looked cute in it, and who knew what occasion might arise.
Well, she was right.
Lindy and I are the only two women present.
Mouse lounges next to my chair, sighing contentedly.
I brought her along for some socialization, but it turns out she doesn’t need much.
She just needed to not be at the shelter.
She rests her head on her paws, sighing contentedly at the voices and laughter around her.
Chase brought several soldiers over to the house, but so far, no Bailey.
I’m not even going to pretend I’m not disappointed. That being said, I guess I’ll take advantage of the fact there are multiple other men here, none of whom are wearing a wedding ring or talking about a significant other.
Guess that means open season.
Chase mans the grill, and the men all flock around him. Through the sliding door, I can hear them talk about work, mostly making jokes at one man’s expense. He appears to take it in stride, joining it and poking fun at himself.
“Do you need any help with anything?” I ask Lindy.
She surveys the dishes she prepared on the countertop and shakes her head. “No, I think we’re good. The brownies have like two minutes left, and I’ll pull them out. Other than that, I think we’re good.” Lindy turns her eyes on me. “So? How was the hookup?”
I bark a laugh, and Mouse lifts her head at the sudden noise. “If you could call it that.”
“Yikes. That bad?”
“He called himself ‘the pussy whisperer.’”
“Okay?”
“He went down on me for twenty-five minutes—”
“Dang, that’s goo—”
“I faked it so I could leave.”
“Not good.” She laughs. “You have the worst luck with men.”
I deadpan. “It was on a futon.”
Lindy winces. “Let me know if you need any medicine for the aches you’re inevitably going to have in your back. Futons weren’t made for those of us in our thirties.”
“Tell me about it.” I sip on my drink. “This is really good.”
She grabs a plastic container and shows me. “On sale for twenty bucks at the liquor store! This is the best mix I’ve found.” Reaching across the counter, she tips the bottle of rum over the edge of my glass. “You might need something a little stronger than what I mixed up.”
I sniff the cup and make a face. “Trying to kill me?”
“Nope, just trying to make you forget about the pussy whisperer.” Lindy sips on her own drink. “Also, did I not tell you how cute that dress looks on you? If I was a man, I’d want to fuck you.”
“Girl, I keep telling you, just say the word.” I flip my hair over my shoulder, laughing. “Thankfully it’s warm enough outside. I’m just waiting for second winter to kick in.”
Lindy chuckles. “I think Chase would weirdly take offense if I left him for you.”
I snap my fingers, pretending to be disappointed. “Well, darn the luck. So, what’s the deal with all these guys?” I ask, gesturing toward the men gathered around the grill. “Single? Taken?”
“Single,” she confirms. “Just steer clear of Cooper. The one with the mustache. He’s a whore. The rest of them are good guys. They all helped get your house cleaned out, plus Bailey, of course, who you’ve already met.”
“Oh, okay.” I try to act nonchalant. “Is he coming?”
She shrugs. “Beats me. I can ask Chase, if you want.”
“No!” I exclaim a little too aggressively.
Lindy shoots me a sideways glance.
In an attempt to save some face, I say, “I was just wondering. Just figured he’d be here, too. No need to ask.”
Real fucking cool, Palmer.
If she suspects anything weird, Lindy doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, she turns to take the brownies from the oven. “Give me a sec, and I can introduce you to the guys.”
I take a long drink from my daiquiri and nod. I’m not sure why I care about whether Lindy knows. I guess I don’t.
I don’t know. Maybe I do.
Lindy and Chase hated Clay, even if they didn’t outright say it.
They both know I’m wanting to get laid, but something about sleeping with one of their friends doesn’t feel right.
While I haven’t dated anyone in the military, I’m more than a little familiar with the culture surrounding relationships.
It’s either get married within a month of knowing each other, contract marriages, or divorce in the first five years because you get to a point where you can’t stand being around the other person after being apart from them so long.
Then there’s the select few who actually like each other enough to make it work regardless.
After teaching in a school serving a large military population, I’ve seen my fair share of all the above. Parent-teacher conferences weren’t just uncomfortable for me this year.
Lindy and Chase fall into the last category, and despite their awareness that I have no intention of getting into another relationship any time soon, they would inadvertently expect that I would somehow fall into the same category as them.
I’ve disappointed enough people in my life.
I’d hate to disappoint them, too, so it’s just better if they don’t know.
“Come on, Mouse.” Her nails tap on the floor as she follows us out onto the deck, and all eyes turn our way.
The men all greet Lindy as we walk out. She turns toward me, saying, “Guys, this is my best friend, Palmer.”
I toss my hand up in a quick wave. “You guys can call me PJ. And this is Mouse.” I gesture toward her, and her butt starts to wiggle as she makes her away around the group, soaking in all the attention.
The men respond in murmured greetings as Chase introduces them: Marcus Cooper, Amir Phillips, and Dominic Adams.
“From what I understand, you guys all helped get my ex out?”
They nod in turn.
“Well, thank you. I owe you all more than you can imagine.”
Dominic pipes up, “The pizza and beer was payment enough.”
The others agree with him.
“I wish I could’ve done more. You all have no idea how much that helped me.” I glance around the group, a genuine smile on my face, as Mouse plops next to my feet.
Marcus makes a show of checking me out, his green eyes lingering on my cleavage and a flirtatious smile spreading across his face. Struck with the feeling I should’ve worn more clothes, I cross my arms, making the issue worse.
The flush rising in my cheeks is hot, and I keep telling myself I have no reason to be embarrassed, but I can’t help it. His gaze is primal and predatory, and I want to blend into the background.
Bailey doesn’t make me feel like that.
Amir comes to my rescue. “You teach with Lindy, right?”
Relieved, I turn my attention to him and respond, “Yeah! I teach high incidence special education.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It’s for the students with disabilities that occur most frequently, like learning disabilities, autism, other health impairments, that sort of thing.”
Marcus sidles up to me, standing a little too close for my comfort. Mouse sits up, pressing her weight against my calf. “So, you, like, help kids learn to use the bathroom and stuff or what?” His question sounds genuine, but I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to look down my dress.
I turn to face him head-on. “No, students in our low incidence program focus more on those functional and adaptive skills. I focus more on students who are able to be in classes with their general education peers and just need services to help them access their grade-level curriculum.”
“You just said a whole lot of words that I have no idea what they mean.” He puts his hands up. “Either way, sounds like a lot of work. I couldn’t do it, so it’s good you have that skill set.”
Opening my mouth to respond, I’m interrupted by a deep, familiar voice coming from behind me.
“Coop, leave the lady alone.”
I turn to see Bailey closing the door behind him, a mischievous smile directed toward the other man. They all flock to him, shaking hands in greeting. Mouse abandons her post at my side and trots to Bailey’s hands.
“Hey there, Mamas. What’re you doing, pretty girl?”
I’m rooted to my spot. Bailey’s easy smile for his friends is so different from the guarded man I spent my Friday with. Is it possible for a person to become even sexier in, like, two days? Because I think he might have. That, or I just forgot he looks like that.
He’s wearing jeans and cowboy boots with a light blue and black plaid shirt.
The sleeves are rolled up, leaving the tattoos covering his forearms completely exposed.
I throw back the remainder of my drink, trying to drown the fiery heat overtaking my body, but that only makes it worse.
The only thing that might help is his mouth on mine, although I don’t think that’ll help much either.
He stands, and Mouse makes her way back over to me, her tongue dangling from the side of her mouth, satisfied. Bailey’s dark eyes find mine, and my mouth falls open, useless.
No matter how much I try, I can’t force any sound out. The corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement, like he enjoys watching me struggle to speak. “Hi, Palmer.”
I’m not sure how much time passes, but watching him walk toward me feels like it takes an eternity.
Bailey stops in front of me then puts his arms around me. “Good to see you,” he murmurs hot against my ear.
“Uh… you, too.” I’m finally able to spit out.
Good one, Palmer, you fucking moron.
Bailey pulls back, his right hand hot through the thin fabric of my dress and lets his eyes linger on my lips then make their way down my body, taking his time before he gets back to my eyes. “You look nice.”
His words drape over me like velvet, and I’m tempted to drag him inside to let him know just how nice I can be, but I am acutely aware of the eyes on us. Over Bailey’s shoulder, I catch Chase and Lindy exchanging a glance.
God, I am so fucked.