Big Girls Do It Wetter (2 page)

I twisted on my stool to look at him. Our knees were almost touching, but not quite. I could feel the space between our knees as if static electricity was sparking between us.

"I am?" I tried not to make it sound flirty, but didn't succeed.

Jeff drained his beer and popped the top of the third. Darren had left a few on the bar for us while he counted the register. His actions were short and jerky, the bottle clinking against his teeth as he lifted it to his lips.

"Don't, Anna. Not if you don't mean it." He was examining the bar top as if it held an answer. "You know how I feel. So don't."

"How do you feel?" I wasn't looking at him either. It was just easier.

Jeff didn't answer for a long time. "Quit playing games with me," he said, eventually.

I shifted my legs so our knees touched. Jeff jerked, as if the contact had physically shocked him.

"Damn it, Anna. Don't fuck with me." Jeff stood up and slammed his beer bottle down. "I need a shot, goddamn it."

"I'm not playing games, Jeff. I promise."

"Then what is this? What are you doing? I've spent six years as your friend and partner, nothing more. I haven't—what I feel hasn't changed in all that time. But now, suddenly...you—" Jeff reached over the bar and pulled a bottle of whiskey out, found a shot glass and poured a finger into it; he slammed the shot, and then poured one for me. "Times like this I miss smoking."

He'd quit cigarettes two years before, and I'd never heard him voice a craving. He'd also never drank anything but beer or Jaeger.

Darren was at the end of the bar watching us. He'd nodded at Jeff when he first grabbed the bottle. I was feeling dizzy, now, but I didn't stop. I finished my beer and grabbed another. The dizziness was welcome, the lightheaded forgetting a pleasant distraction from my emotional turmoil.

Jeff was facing away from me, staring out the window into the darkness of an empty street, traffic light cycling from red to green.

"You're just using me as a crutch to get over what's his name," Jeff said, apropos of nothing. "Not fair to me."

I stood up unsteadily and made my way next to Jeff. I didn't touch him, although I wanted to.

"Maybe I'm just realizing what's been in front of me the whole time," I said.

"Horseshit," Jeff spat. "Besides, I don't want his leftovers."

Oh, ouch. I'm leftovers, now
?

"What the fuck, Jeff? I'm not sloppy seconds, I'm your friend. And I'm just wondering what else it might be, or could be. I don't know."

I turned away to stomp to my car, only I wobbled on my heels. Jeff caught me and I shrugged him off. I was pissed off now, even though I knew Jeff was just pushing to protect himself.

"Fuck off, Jeff. I'm going home."

Jeff grunted in irritation and caught my arm again. "Not like this you're not. You can barely walk. You aren't driving anywhere." He was both irritated and feeling his alcohol.

"I'm fine."

"You're not." Jeff pulled out his wallet, tossed a bill on the bar and waved a goodbye to Darren. "I'll take you home. And Anna, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I was just pissed off."

I let him help me into the passenger seat of his Yukon. It smelled vaguely of pine-scented air freshener, and something that was indefinably Jeff-smell, clean and male. He leaned over me, buckled me in, dug in my purse for my keys and locked my car. His presence in front of me had me inhaling his scent, wondering what the skin by his jaw tasted like.

Things were spinning, the dashboard wavering in front of my eyes, and the floor beneath my feet seemed to jump and wiggle.

"Guess I'm worse off than I thought," I said, hearing the slur. "Don't know what's come over me. I've done more shots than this and been fine."

Jeff snorted a laugh as he slid into the driver's seat and started the van. "You haven't eaten today. Your stomach's been growling since nine o'clock. Plus, you don't usually drink whiskey."

"What about you?" I focused on breathing and keeping my head straight on my shoulders.

"I'm fine."

I couldn't summon any more arguments. Maybe he was be fine, maybe he wasn't. I tried to remember how much he'd had, how much I had, but I couldn't; everything blurred together. 

"Don't take me home," I mumbled. "Don't want to be alone."

Jeff glanced sidelong at me. "You can crash at my place."

I realized I'd never been to Jeff's place, and I didn't know if he lived in a house or an apartment. He drove slowly and carefully, seeming none the worse for wear. I was having trouble keeping track of time, and it might have been five minutes or an hour before we pulled up in front of a tiny house on a corner lot, deep in a subdivision. It was a shack more than anything, maybe one bedroom, if that.

Jeff helped me out and gestured to the house. "It's not much, but...well, it's home."

I slumped against him, letting him support my weight. I was feeling better than when I'd gotten into the car, but still dizzy. Jeff's arm was around my shoulders, and I let my head tilt to the side and rest on his arm. It was comforting, somehow familiar. He held me easily, and I didn't resist the urge to burrow into him. He smirked down at me, a lift of one side of his mouth, just a tipping of his lip, but it was enough to tell me liked having his arm around me. It was a good start.

Inside, the house was tastefully decorated in light colors that made the tiny living room and galley kitchen seem bigger than I'd expected from the exterior. Jeff helped me lie down on the faded gray couch. It was deep, soft, and comfortable. I was tired all at once, my eyes heavy.

I was wearing a long skirt and boots, and the skirt was tangling between my legs and catching on my boot heels. I tugged at the boots, got one off but the other defied my efforts. The zipper of my skirt was in the back, and I knew it was hopeless.

"Jeff, I need my other boot off."

He was gentle as he pulled the boot off my foot and set it neatly with the other by the door. He moved to cover me with a blanket, but I stopped him.

"I need the skirt off too. It gets tangled."

Jeff's face contorted into something like panic. "I don't—your skirt? Can't you do that?"

I might have managed it if I stood up, but that wasn't happening. Plus, this was fun.

I twisted my hips to the side. "Please? I'll be more comfortable."

Jeff's jaw tightened, and one hand curled into a clenched fist before he uprooted himself and knelt beside me. His hand reached out, hovered over the zipper just above the swell of my backside. His eyes locked on mine; he wasn't afraid, or nervous, but I couldn't decipher the emotion in his eyes. Desire? Hesitation? Longing?

He took the zipper with precision, not so much as brushing the fabric, and drew it down, eyes riveted on my face.

He's proving something to me
, I realized.
He won't touch me since I'm drunk.

When the zipper was at the bottom, I lifted my hips and he tugged the stretchy black fabric down, gripping near my legs where there was enough loose cotton to allow him to not touch me. The skirt slipped over my hips and he drew it off my feet, folded it and set on the floor by my boots. He stood up, facing away from me.

Oh no you don't,
I thought. He wasn't going to get away with not so much as looking at me.

"Jeff?"

"Hmmm?" He stopped and grunted the question without turning around.

"I'm thirsty." And I was, all of a sudden. Positively parched.

His shoulders slumped and he shook his head. He filled a glass with water and brought it to me, keeping his eyes downcast until he reached the couch. His eyes met mine, flicked away, and then back.

When I'd gotten dressed, all I could find clean was a slinky purple thong, so that's what I was wearing. It barely covered me, even in front. I certainly hadn't had Jeff in mind when I'd put it on, but now I was grateful.

His eyes moved down to my low-cut T-shirt, which had hiked up to bunch just beneath my breasts, and down to my hips and legs.

"Goddamn, Anna. You're not making this easy on me."

"I'm not making what easy?" I asked.

"Being a gentleman."

"What if I don't want you to be a gentleman?"

Jeff closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "You're drunk."

"A little bit."

I kept my eyes on his and let him look. He fought it still, trying to focus on my eyes, but at last he gave in and let his gaze rove down my body, lingering on the miniscule patch of purple silk between the narrow V of my thighs. He turned away, at last.

"Such a gentleman," I said, taking the glass from him and sitting up to drink it.

"I'm trying," he said, "but you're not making it easy. "

"Sorry," I said, but my tone of voice implied otherwise.

Jeff smirked. "No you're not. You're just being difficult. Teasing me."

I faked a hurt look. "Me? A tease? Never." I smiled sweetly, all innocence. "I always follow through."

Jeff's eyes narrowed, and his hands twitched at his sides, as if trying to keep them from touching me.

"If you're playing a game with me, Anna, I swear, I'll never talk to you again. I mean it."

"I'm not playing a game. I promise." I finished the glass of water and set it on the coffee table before lying back down on the couch.

I only posed for Jeff a little bit.

He closed his eyes briefly before crouching next to me and drawing the blanket over my hips. His knuckles brushed along my skin from knee to hip bone, an electric spark crackling between us at the contact. I wanted him to run his hand up my leg, but he didn't. He seemed to think about it, though.

"Good night, Anna." He rose and went to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

* * *

When I woke up, head pounding and stomach roiling, Jeff had a full breakfast spread out, eggs sunny-side up, bacon, toast, orange juice, coffee. I visited the bathroom, then meandered out to the kitchen.

"Thought you might be hungry." Jeff was sitting at his table, a round thing barely big enough for two people.

I slipped into the chair across from him, still basically naked from the waist down. The table was clear glass, and his gaze fell from my face to my legs. I pretended not to notice and dug in to the food, which was simple and delicious.

"Thanks for breakfast," I said.

"Welcome," Jeff grunted.

He got up and dug around in a cabinet, found a bottle of Aspirin and gave me two.

"And thanks for taking care of me last night," I added, swallowing the Aspirin gratefully.

Jeff shrugged, uncomfortable. "That's what friends are for, I guess."

He drummed a rhythm on the glass with two fingers. I set my hand on his, just rested mine on top, at first. When he glanced up at me in surprise, I slipped mine beneath his. His palm was warm and calloused on my hand, and he looked from our hands to my eyes, and back.

His eyes burned into mine, questioning.

"Is that all we are?" I asked. "Just friends?"

Jeff looked our hands again. "Well, it's all we have been." His eyes flicked up to mine. "Till now." It was almost a question, but not quite.

"Until now," I agreed.

I wasn't sure what this was, or where it was going, but I wanted to see. Jeff had been my friend for a long time, keeping his feelings for me on the down low, never letting them interfere. He'd never tried anything, never asked me out, never told me he liked me, or tried to seduce me. We'd gotten drunk together on a number of occasions, but he'd always been a perfect gentleman, just like last night. Only, last night I'd finally seen a glimpse of his desire for me.

So then, how did I know what he felt for me? The little things. A look he would give me while setting up, meeting my gaze for a few beats too long, a wistful gleam in his eyes. The way he'd never let me do anything too hard, keeping all the heavy lifting for himself. Fending off drunks and keeping losers from hitting on me.

I looked at him, at the slope of his shoulders and the tension in his eyes. He was waiting for this to end, for me to tell him we'd just be friends. He'd never tried anything with me, but he wanted to.

"Jeff? Can I ask you something?"

"You just did, didn't you?" He smirked, that rare little expression of humor.

"You know what I meant." He lifted a shoulder, and I plunged ahead. "Why haven't you ever tried anything? As more than friends I mean?"

A long silence, and then a shrug of one shoulder. It wasn't even an answer, but somehow there was a wealth of expression in it. The shrug seemed to mean hidden fear, worry of rejection, a whole slew of things he could and would never say aloud, or even admit to himself in so many words.

"You never know until you try, right?"

Jeff opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. After a deep breath, he tried again. "I didn't mean what I said last night, but I do have to know. Why now?"

"Sometimes...you just wake up one day and see what's always been there."

"I guess." He threaded his fingers through mine, a gesture of finally giving in to hope.

He seemed about to say something else, but he shook his head, drew his hand out of mine and stood up.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I won't be long," he said, and then he was gone.

I heard the bathroom door closing and the shower start, and I was left sitting alone, wondering why he'd pulled away. He'd seemed on the verge of something, but had swerved aside.

I knew he wanted me, I'd seen that last night. So...maybe it was up to me? Maybe he wouldn't believe I actually wanted him unless I showed him, in no uncertain terms.

Why shouldn't I go after him?
His hand brushing my leg had been electric, thrilling. What would sex be like? Even more electrifying, likely.

There's only one way to find out.

My body was moving before my brain was aware of the decision being made. At some point, my shirt ended up on the floor, leaving me clad only in a front-clasp bra and thong.

The bathroom door was unlocked. My heart was pitter-pattering in my chest as I entered the steam-clouded bathroom. His shower door was clear glass, fogged by steam but still translucent enough to show me his body, thick and heavily muscled. His manhood was limp and pointing down; from what I could see, it would be enormously thick. I wanted a better, closer look. I wanted to touch, to taste. Desire was pooling in my belly, and it wasn't only for release, for relief from the sexual frustration raging through me, but for Jeff, for the man I'd worked with for so long, knew so well, but didn't know at all, in some ways.