THIRTEEN #2
Splice groaned and leaned his spine against the headboard. It would be an even better conversation if Lisa were lying down next to him with her head on his stomach while he played with her hair.
Let’s make it happen. His mind insisted.
“Now you’re talking my language. I might not know French or Japanese, sweetheart, but cake I know. Tell me in slow detail. Leave nothing out.”
Lisa was laughing down the line, and his mouth quirked, feeling like a giant for amusing her.
“You and your sweet tooth. All your teeth will fall out because of the amount of sugar you eat.”
“Hey, I brush three times a day. Cake, woman! Diamond has cut me off. Big jerk.”
Amidst more laughter, she provided him with a detailed description of the Swiss chocolate cake, complete with its molten core. Lisa’s description of the cake, not the cake itself, caused Splice to groan. Her voice was all sweet and fuckable.
Splice’s conversation remained superficial for an hour, despite his powerful urge to flirt with Lisa.
* * *
A couple of nights later, he fished out his phone again and saw it was only nine p.m. Fucking hell, was the clock going backward? Splice had received an earlier text from Lisa stating that she was working late, which prevented him from calling her before then.
Tomb knocked Splice’s booted foot with his, gesturing a beer bottle to him, asking if he wanted one. They were relaxing in Tomb’s backyard by the fire pit.
He grabbed the beer on reflex, cradling it in his two hands, dangling between his legs.
“Something on your mind? You’re away with the gremlins today.”
Screwing off the cap, he took a long pull from the cold beer. Splice wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and canted his head to the side to look at his buddy, who was relaxing in the same state as him, sitting on garden furniture.
“I’m deciding how much I wanna tell you,” he snorted, taking another pull of beer.
“Is it a shovel and a deep grave situation? I’ll have to tell Nina we’re gonna be late getting home.”
That’s what Tomb was about.
No questions asked, he’d have Splice’s back if he’d killed someone.
He’d be there digging a grave with him. And because Tomb told his old lady everything – the good, the bad, and the worst, Nina would probably rip them both a new asshole afterward, but she’d be at their place waiting for them, maybe with some steaks grilling.
She was good people, too. Splice’s found family.
“It’s a woman.”
“Fuck. Worse than a shovel, then.” Grinned Tomb. “Let me open a fresh beer.” He did that. “Spill it. You’re ending your sex drought?”
“I haven’t had sex in fifteen months.” He admitted.
“How in the great fuck are you even still walking straight?” Exclaimed Tomb. “Is your dick having... problems? There ain’t nothing to be ashamed of, brother. There are pills and stuff for that. Doctors can get it going again.”
Because Tomb looked deadly serious, Splice chuckled and knocked his beer bottle against Tomb’s. “Thanks for the pep talk, but my dick works just fine.”
Ever since seeing Lisa, his dick had been the organ leading the charge of his body. That greedy bastard wanted Lisa in the worst way.
“I wondered why you weren’t looking like a man who was bed-hopping anymore.”
“I told you I wasn’t interested in that anymore; no one believed I wasn’t fucking a woman every night.” Then Splice added, “because of the carefree way I’ve always behaved.”
“Splice, fuck what we all say in jest to you, your sex life is your biz, you get me?”
Splice grunted a response.
For a guy who’d had more than his fair share of sex, becoming celibate hadn’t even bothered him. It wasn’t something he even thought about, even when women continued to throw themselves at him.
That’s how he knew he’d made the right decision fifteen months ago when he put himself on a restricted diet of no pussy, because now his body was ready to join that race again.
All because of Lisa and her seductive eyes and sweet-as-sin voice. And everything else in between. He liked everything about her, and getting to know this new, older version of Lisa wasn’t even about his getting laid.
Getting hard talking to her, seeing her, was just a biological reaction to a woman he’d been crazy wild over in his younger days. He’d like to think he’d grown a little wiser in the last ten years, too, and wasn’t letting his raging body influence his actions.
He enjoyed being around her. That was the truth.
When Splice didn’t add to the conversation, Tomb asked, “So, there’s a woman you’re into? Is it one of the sweet bottoms? Any of the regular women would throw their panties with joy if you looked their way,” his buddy joked.
“Nah, it isn’t anyone from the club.” That made Splice think, and he opened his phone’s contacts. There were loads of women’s numbers in there he’d hooked up with; it took him minutes to delete each of those contacts.
Once done, he said, “I’m gonna ask you not to say anything to Nina yet. I know that isn’t your usual way, so if you can’t...”
“You got it,” Tomb instantly said, and Splice appreciated that shit.
“It’s only until she tells Nina about our connection.”
“Wait... who? She knows my Nina?”
“Lisa.”
It took a few seconds for the gears to turn in Tomb’s skull, but then he barked a deep, rumbly laugh and slapped Splice on his shoulder. “Fuck, you’re in trouble if you’re messing with Nina’s friend. My old lady is gonna break all your bones to dust, Splice. You know she’s possessive.”
“Hey! I knew Lisa first. Nina can’t be possessive over her.”
Seeing Tomb’s confused eyebrows, Splice explained how and when he knew Lisa, even before he’d joined the Diablos.
Tomb blew out a whistle and kicked back in the chair. A smirk on his bearded mouth.
“Well, shit makes sense now.”
“What do you mean?”