25. Come Sit Your Butt Down, Handsome
Come Sit Your Butt Down, Handsome
Missy
‘You were fourteen?’ I gasp, wide-eyed, as he answers my question, and he nods.
‘Yeah, but in my defense, I was tall, and I looked older and…’
‘Wait, how old was she?’
‘Oh, um, she was sixteen.’
‘Jesus.’ I shake my head, and he shrugs.
‘Why, how old were you?’
‘Oh no, Mister, we’re not done with your story.’
‘It’s not much of a story. We were down at the lake. Doug managed to snag us some beers from the bar, something his dad grounded him for two weeks for when he found out.’ He laughs, and I can’t help but smile as I see the wistful expression on his face. ‘We all had a little to drink, and Luke and Zoe were off enjoying each other’s company.’ He waggles his eyebrows, and I cackle. ‘Doug was with Jessie, and Bree was hanging out with my brother so that left Leo, me, and some of Zoe and Bree’s classmates. They didn’t really hang out with girls all that often, so I guessed they’d invited them for us. I thought we’d just make out a little, then she put her hands down my pants and asked if I wanted to go all the way.’
‘Oh my god.’
‘I was a teenage boy. Of course, I said yes.’
‘ Fourteen ? Nick. That’s only eight and a half years older than Jonah is now. I don’t want my baby having sex in eight and a half years.’
He smiles. ‘He probably won’t, Miss. I didn’t have a whole lot else to do with my time.’
This was nice. Nick came over once Jonah was in bed, and we’ve just been hanging out, talking, and drinking wine.
My eyes hold his for a moment. I thought they were just dark brown when I first met him, now, I know better. Now, I’ve gazed into them in the throes of passion and seen the hazel flecks mixed in with the molten chocolate. I’ve run my fingertips along the arch of his dark eyebrows and down over the bump in his nose. I’ve studied his sharp jawline as he slept and scratched my nails through the stubble he lets grow because he knows I like it. He hasn’t said as much, but he was always clean-shaven until I commented on him looking extra sexy with a little scruff, then proceeded to ride said scruff like a rodeo cowgirl.
‘You need to stop looking at me that way, sweetheart,’ he says, smiling at me from the opposite end of my sofa, and I inhale deeply through my nose, then take a sip of wine just as he picks up my foot, pulling it into his lap and starting to massage. The sound that leaves my mouth is indecent.
‘Oh my god.’ I lean my head back, and he chuckles.
‘I’ve been putting in all this effort, and all I needed to do was rub your feet.’
‘Uh uh,’ I shake my head. ‘The effort has been very much appreciated.’ And it has. My array of toys has become redundant since I’ve been getting an abundance of orgasms from a real-life, warm-bodied human man. ‘Why did you become a vet?’ I ask, changing the subject as he refills my glass from the bottle on the table.
‘I love animals, always have.’
‘Did you have pets growing up?’
He shakes his head, and a flicker of a frown creases his brow.
‘Nah, my dad hates animals.’ I frown now — who the hell hates animals? ‘He used to set traps to catch rabbits and rats and anything else that dared wander into his yard, and I used to bust apart the traps so they wouldn’t work.’ He smiles widely, and I can’t help my grin.
‘Did he find out?’
‘Yeah.’ He takes a sip of his wine and then changes the subject. ‘What about you? Why hairdressing?’
‘My mama was a hairdresser.’ I smile softly. ‘I don’t remember her. She died when I was two. I guess I just wanted a connection to her, turns out, I’m damn good at it.’
‘I’m so sorry, Miss.’ His hand stills on my ankle. ‘What happened?’
‘We were in a car wreck. Me, my parents, and my grandma — a drunk driver hit us. He died at the scene, Mama and Grandma too. Daddy died in the hospital, and I survived.’
‘Man, that’s…’ he shakes his head. ‘That’s fuckin’ heartbreaking, Missy.’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know any different, so it’s okay, you know.’ It’s not okay, but I’ve told myself that for so long that it sounds believable.
‘Would you cut my hair?’
My gaze meets his, and I notice the sparkle in his eyes. I read him as easily as the large print texts on my grandpa’s phone — he’s changing the subject — for me .
‘I would love to.’ I pull my feet from his lap and stand, walking over to the dining table and pulling out a chair. ‘Come on.’
‘I didn’t mean right now.’ He laughs, and I pull out my pack from the side table.
‘Come sit your butt down, handsome.’
He laughs and walks my way, then sits, his knees parted wide, his grey sweatpants teasing the shit out of me. I stand between his knees and run my fingers through his hair, making his eyes close.
‘Nick,’ I say softly, and his eyes open before his hands come to my hips. ‘I’m going to cut your hair, then you’re taking me to bed. Deal?’
He smirks, squeezing my hips before his tongue peeks out to wet his lips, and he speaks.
‘You drive a hard bargain, Marissa Morgan, but you got yourself a deal.’