Chapter 30 Another Condom Debacle
Another Condom Debacle
Sawyer
We both lay in my bed, covered in sweat, trying to catch our breath. I don’t know what I expected sex with Wes to be like, but wow. I was not expecting that.
I groan as I roll off the bed, my knees and thighs aching from being on top.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Wes asks, eyes sealed shut in contentment.
“I need to shower.”
“Mm,” he mumbles, reaching out to grab my arm without even opening his eyes. “Don’t leave. Just lay here with me for a few more minutes.”
I look down at him, my lips tugging up at the way he’s sprawled out like a starfish on my bed, condom still on, and a dreamy look on his face that is all too gratifying to see. His features are relaxed, and I wonder idly if I look as dopily happy as he does.
“Come shower with me,” I offer, tugging his hand.
His eyes flash open and I laugh in response. “You’ve made me an offer I can’t refuse.” His feet hit the floor, and he grunts as he pushes up to stand.
I grab us both towels as Wes heads into the bathroom to get the shower started. The sound of scratching at the door prevents me from joining him under the warm water. I sigh and wrap the towel around me as I stalk to the door and crack it open.
Dixie is sitting on the porch, begging to be let inside with those big puppy-dog eyes of hers. “Really Dix? You’re just doing this because you know Wes is here. It’s not that cold out there.”
She just sneezes and looks at me, wagging her tail.
“Fine. But don’t get any ideas about this being a regular thing. I love you and all, but you’re supposed to be out there protecting the goats and horses.”
I step aside and watch her trot through the door like she owns the place.
She heads straight to the leftovers on the picnic blanket, and I quickly snag the containers and put them on the kitchen counter to enjoy later.
Dixie huffs out a disgruntled breath, annoyed that the food is now out of her reach.
The cold air I let in from outside sends a shiver down my spine, and I patter through the kitchen and down the hall to reach the warmth of the shower.
Dixie’s paws click on the hardwood as she finds a spot in the living room and plops onto the floor with a heavy sigh, like she knows her time inside is limited.
When I slip into the bathroom, Wes is leaning over the small tub to adjust the shower temperature, his naked ass on full display. I admire the firmness of his thighs and the roundness of his glutes.
“How hot do you like it?” he asks, eyes flicking to mine over his shoulder.
My nipples are pebbled from the cold, and goosebumps are covering my entire body.
“Hotter than the pits of hell,” I say, tapping his right butt cheek to get him into the shower.
He climbs in, hissing as the scalding water sears into his skin. Instinctively, he arches out of the spray, and I follow him into the shower. The water cascades down my back and I close my eyes, reveling the sensation as the heat works the tension of the lingering chill from my body.
“Is your skin made of leather? How can you stand it?”
I crack an eye open to view him through the steam already accumulating. “Wes, never ask a woman if her skin is made of leather. She might think you’re telling her she looks old and wrinkled.”
He winces. “That’s not what I meant.”
My lips tip into a smile. “I know. I’m teasing.”
His body visibly relaxes. I decide to have pity on the poor man and turn the temperature of the water down a bit. He smirks and steps into me, placing a kiss on my nose before resting a hand on my hip and adjusting the temperature back to where it was.
“I’m sure I’ll get used to the water boiling the flesh from my bones as I wash off.”
I smile and run my fingers through my hair, wetting the strands.
Wes’ thumb rubs circles into the flesh of my hip and when I turn around, he gently traces the lines of the tattoo between my shoulder blades.
It's a whisper of earlier sensations. There's something even more intimate about this moment, something that's lingering just beneath the surface.
It feels good to be touched like this—not just with lust, but with something close to reverence, an ardency that makes my heart squeeze with a bittersweet sensation.
His lips find the curve of my neck, and I relish the abrasiveness of his beard as he nips at my skin lightly. I arch into him, my hand finding the nape of his neck. Somehow my body is already stirring again, hungry for more of him. “Don’t get me started in here, cowboy.”
His rumbling chuckle vibrates against my neck. “Why not?”
“Because I want my memories of tonight to be untainted by the awkwardness of shower sex.”
My statement pulls a loud laugh from him. Seeing him laugh is possibly my favorite thing. His eyes crinkle and that single dimple deepens in his left cheek while his features turn all soft and tender.
He kisses my shoulder one more time before pulling away reluctantly. “Alright, deal. No awkward shower sex.”
I maneuver him under the water so that I can reach the shampoo. I work it into a lather while he rinses off under the hot spray. He reaches for a washcloth, adding my soap, before running it over his body.
Just as I tilt my head back to rinse the suds from my hair, the sharp rustle of plastic cuts through the sound of the water. I pause, shooting a questioning glance at Wes. He mirrors my confusion, his head cocked to the side, brows furrowed.
Shampoo is pouring into my eyes, so I quickly snap them closed to finish rinsing. The metal hooks scrape across the rod as Wes peeks out of the shower curtain to investigate.
“Shit. Dixie! No!”
My eyes shoot open at his exclamation, but before I can ask what happened, he’s bursting out of the shower.
I peer out of the curtain in time to see him chasing my dog out of the bathroom, dripping water as he goes. “Drop it, Dixie!” He slides across the hard floor and goes down, falling hard on his ass.
I give a long, single-toned whistle that gets her attention. “Dixie! Sit!” I command, trying to be of some help, even though I have no idea why he’s chasing her down. She immediately drops her butt to the floor by the couch and stares at me.
Wes crawls over to her, and I bite back the laugh that tries to slip free. It’s a comical sight, watching a grown man crawling naked on the floor. He pries open her jaws, searching for whatever she had.
After a few moments of looking, he slumps back on his heels.
“I'm pretty sure she swallowed it,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Swallowed what?”
He rubs at his eyes with the palms of his hands before meeting my stare with a resigned one of his own. “The condom.”
I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
After getting dressed and a more thorough search for the condom, in which we still come up empty-handed, I pull up the vet’s cell number on my phone.
“I’m so sorry,” Wes apologizes profusely. He’s looking directly at Dixie when he says it, so I’m not sure if those words are meant for me or for what she’s about to experience.
Dr. Dillard answers his cell on the third ring. “Sawyer, you have a horse down?” his grandfatherly voice rasps over the line.
“No. I caught Dixie digging through my trash, and she swallowed something she shouldn’t have.” I breathlessly explain.
“What was it she swallowed?” It’s a question I was hoping he wouldn’t ask, given the circumstances, but I can’t say I’m surprised.
I glance at Wes and feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment. “A used condom,” I reply to Dr. Dillard flatly.
Wes stares at the ceiling and shakes his head as if he’s questioning exactly what God has against him.
“Oh. Um.” He coughs, attempting to cover a laugh, but it does little to hide his amusement at my predicament. “You’re sure she swallowed it?”
“Positive.”
His tone shifts, turning more serious. “Any signs of stomach trouble? Vomiting? Diarrhea?”
“No, nothing like that. It just happened a little bit ago.”
“How long ago, exactly?”
I glance at the clock. “Maybe ten minutes, tops.”
“Alright, you better bring her in. I’ll induce vomiting to make sure it doesn’t get lodged somewhere and cause problems. I’ll meet you at the clinic in a few minutes.”
“Thanks. See you soon.” I end the call, and my chest loosens slightly now that there’s a plan in place. “Wanna go for a ride, Dixie?”
Her ears perk up and she cocks her head to the side, tongue lolling out of the side of her toothy grin.
Wes jingles his keys in his hands. “We can take my truck,” he says.
I hadn’t expected him to come with us, but I’m not going to argue with him over it. I nod at his offer and we all head outside.
The rain has stopped, but there’s still a damp chill hanging in the air that seeps through my clothes and settles deep in my bones.
I shiver, tugging the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my hands as Wes blasts the heat.
The vents in the old truck pushes out nothing but cold air first, making my nipples pull tight under my sweatshirt.
I cross my arms over my chest, attempting to hide my body's reaction to the cold.
I bite nervously at my fingernails, a bad habit I’ve never been able to break.
My thoughts spiral, anxiety over Dixie pressing heavy on my chest. Wes glances over.
He catches the movement, eyes flicking to my hands.
Without a word, he reaches over and grabs one, lacing his fingers through mine.
The warmth of his palm grounds me, chasing away the lingering chill.
“She’s gonna be okay,” he says.
I nod and swallow down the boulder stuck in my throat. Dixie’s my best friend. I talk to her more than I talk to anyone else. If she wasn’t okay... I shake my head from side to side, trying to dislodge the thought.
She’s happily riding on the bench seat between Wes and I, eyes fixed out the windshield, showing no signs of distress.
Wes is right. She’ll be fine. She has to be. She’s not going to be taken out by a used condom.