The Collision on Hardwood Drive (9 page)

“Because I am always,
always
nice to girls, and I
always
get stuck in the friend zone! It’s like—by treating women as human beings, they stop thinking of me as a man. Girls are crazy. What can I do, though? I’m not going to start to be mean.” He smiled at the end of his speech as though that were my cue to be impressed.

I thought of a million things I could say.
Fortunately, Claire saved me from blowing up at Joe. She looked at her watch and said, “Shit! Steph, we’re late—I told Megan we’d be at her place at 5:30. Sorry, Joe—we have to get going.”

She offered him a
deeply
insincere smile. I knew she was bored with Joe—after all, there
was
no Megan. I didn’t protest, though, because I was more than bored with Joe too.

He probably didn’t mean to be such an unattractive boor. He was harmless
, and I could afford to be the bigger person here. I turned to Joe, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. Maybe we can finish this another time.”

As I stood to leave, an overweight man slammed into me. He spilled his coffee down the front of my shirt.

“Fuck!” I screamed as the hot liquid burned my skin. I plucked at my shirt, trying to keep the damp heat from soaking into my skin. When I looked up at Joe, he was studying the ground like there was something interesting on his feet.

I looked up to see who had bumped into me. I didn’t have to search because he was standing in front of me and shouting straight into my face.
“What, you think you’re so special you don’t need to look where you’re going? You owe me a fucking coffee!”

“Ex
cuse
me?” I said, gasping. “You bumped into
me
! Joe, you saw the whole thing—” I looked up at Joe for help, waiting for him to jump in to support me. Of course, he did no such thing. He stood to the side, pretending to find the floor fascinating—pretending not to even
know
me.

The man who bumped into me snorted derisively. “Exactly. Even your little boyfriend knows you had your head up your ass.
Bitch
.” He shot me a disgusted look and huffed as he began to walk away, cutting off whatever I might have been able to say in my defense.

Claire caught
only the tail end of our exchange when she came back from tossing our trash out, but it was enough for her to respond. “Hey, neck rolls! You can fuck right off!” she shouted at his back.

She looked at me, then at Joe, and then at me again—she ultimately settled her angry glare on Joe. “What the fuck was
that
?”

Joe couldn’t even meet her eyes. “Stephanie, uh, ran into that guy,” he said.
I stared at him, incredulous. How
could
he?

“What?” Claire asked, looking at me now.

“I did nothing,” I said with a heavy, irritated sigh. “That asshole ran into
me
,” I said, shooting Joe an unkind look, “and dumped his coffee all over me. Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”

We left Raymond’s quickly and parted ways with Joe as soon as possible. Once we’d said our goodbyes—our voices polite, but strained—I waited until we were a few blocks again to groan in disgust.

“Who
does
that?” I asked as I walked along with Claire. “What kind of person just sits there while his friend gets
yelled
at? Nice guy—
sure
. That guy just slammed into me and told me I owed him a coffee, and Joe wouldn’t even stand up for me!”

Claire linked her arm through mine. “I’m sorry, babe. You don’t need that shit. What you
need
is a real man.” She gave me a pointed look and I sighed, nodding.

“Like Rob, I presume. Is that what you’re insinuating?”

“Not
insinuating
, Steph. I’m
telling
you. You can’t tell me you have even one ounce of interest in that Joe guy. I saw your face when he said that coffee thing was your fault—you practically hate that guy.”

“Wait,” she said as we paused in the middle of the road. “You said there was something new with Rob. What happened?”

“He texted me this morning,” I said, a bit hesitantly. “Right after I had a dream about him—you know, a
dream
. I’m not sure what to do.”

“Are you
kidding
?” she said, so loudly that a few people passing us turned around to look our way. Claire either didn’t notice them or simply didn’t care. “I’ll
tell
you what to do—you text him back! Tell him what you’re wearing.” She grinned and poked me in the ribs, teasingly. “And if you aren’t wearing cute underwear,
lie
."

When I got back to my apartment, I was still fired up from the exchange a
t the coffee shop. What the hell
was
that, anyway? I didn’t expect to be taken care of, but it would have been nice to know I could count on someone for a little support. Who just
sits
there?

Disgusted, I pulled out my phone and stared at the texts
Rob had sent me.
Can I see you again? Text me back.

I knew Claire was right. Enough was enough. I wanted a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to grab it—I wanted
Rob
.

I typed a reply, slowly:
Don’t tell me what to do.
Even if I knew I wanted him now, I sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

My phone lit up almost instantly.
Ah, that’s better.

I couldn’t help
smiling. I didn’t text back, though, and decided to see if he would send me something else.

What do I have to do to get you here with me?

Hah! Now, I’ve got him hooked.
Terrible, dirty things,
I responded.

You have my attention. Make a list of demands.

Demand number one: kisses. As many as I want.
I paused, briefly, as I thought about how my body had responded to that first—how, how wet I had been when I woke after last night’s drive. I loved thinking that he could be hard right now. I wanted him to want me as much as I wanted him.

He responded before I could continue.
As long as they’re below the belt.

Did I say you could make demands?
I grinned and retreated into my thoughts again. I imagined Rob kissing my inner thighs, moving slowly and inexorably closer. I unbuttoned the top of my shirt, feeling my hardening nipples.
Fine. Tell me about those kisses, Rob.

I’m going to tease you with my tongue.

It’ll be my hands in your hair, pulling, as you get harder
, I typed back, feeling myself getting wet.
I want to feel your hands on me again.

No hands,
he replied.
Just my mouth. I want to know how you taste.

As I imagined his tongue flicking over my clit, I felt myself begin to throb. My phone lit up again.

Are you wet? Touch yourself.

I did exactly what he asked. I unbuttoned my jeans and slid the zipper down, reaching one hand down to move my panties to the side. I slipped one finger inside myself, thrusting it up easily into my wet folds. It wasn’t enough—all it
did was make me crave him inside me.

I’m so wet. I can’t stand it—I want you.
I typed this message out a bit more slowly with just one hand and sent it over, knowing I would do anything to get him here.

I’m coming to get you. I’ll be there in twenty.

I put my phone down, weak with anticipation. The fears, doubts, and reservations—they all faded into the background. I had never wanted a man so badly.

When I realized I was only wearing jeans and a coffee-stained
T-shirt, I panicked.
Yeah, Stephanie. That’s a
great
way to seduce a man.

I ripped off my clothes and stood naked in front of my mirrored armoire, looking for something to wear. My reflection caught my eye
, and I paused to take in myself. My full lips looked swollen, probably because I had been biting at him, and my eyes were hungry. My breasts, never too large, were tender, and my nipples stiffened. I looked ready to be ravished. I
was
ready to be ravished.

Digging through my drawers, I found exactly what I was looking for. Claire and I had done some serious damage at a lingerie store a few months ago when she convinced me I should start
to date again. To get me
in the mood
, she took me to a store featuring racks and racks of bustiers, corsets, and matching bra-and-panty sets. She encouraged me to stray from my normal cream and white choices in color, suggesting black lace, see-through g-strings, and satin robes. I had been hesitant, but I still left the store with some things I never thought I’d wear.

I pulled a push-up bra, with the tag still attached, out of the closet and tried it on. I was thrilled with the result. It made my normally petite breasts look plump and perky. Cupped by the dark crimson satin and black lace outline, my cleavage looked positively
edible
. I cut the tags off and pulled on a matching low-rise thong that sat dangerously low on my slender hips.

I decided on a snug wrap-around dress that tied on the side to complete my outfit. I could already imagine
Rob tugging at the bow, the front tumbling open to expose my carefully selected lingerie. I couldn’t wait for him to see it.

I settled on the couch with a glass of wine to calm my nerves. The sweet berry flavor reminded me of the wine
Rob had served. I relished in the warmth that spread through my body as I drank. The wine only served to increase my arousal. I got up and paced around the apartment, checking my hair and dabbing some more of my favorite Dior scent on my wrists—even adding a bit between my breasts.

Finally, there was a knock on the door. I took a deep breath and opened it slowly, expecting to find
Rob’s deep slate eyes gazing into mine. Instead, I was met with a huge bouquet of flowers. Spilling from a crystal vase were blue violets, yellow roses, and pink tulips. Their petals were so vivid, and their aroma was gorgeous.

Rob
lowered the vase, revealing his handsome, manly face. A shadow of unshaven stubble darkened his jaw, making him seem dangerously rugged. His lips curled into a warm smile.

“Stephanie,” he said, his eyes drinking in my
body-hugging dress. “Incredible.”

I was swept away, instantly and utterly. I had half
-expected him to come in and ravish me there on the floor—maybe even
wanted
him to—but he didn’t. Like a perfect gentleman, he showed up with flowers and had a car waiting downstairs. I was impressed.

I ducked
in the limo, lingering in the doorway for a moment to give him a good view of my legs. I could feel his eyes on me. I sat on the smooth leather bench, waiting for him to slide in next to me. Rob, instead, took the seat across from me.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said, never taking his eyes off me. He leaned in to trace a finger over my bare knee.
I could barely breathe.

“What made you reconsider?” he asked after a moment, looking
in my eyes.

“Well, I decided my initial…
skepticism
toward you was unfounded,” I said. “There’s no sense in lying about it—I couldn’t stop thinking about you, either, and when you sent me those texts…” I drifted off, unable to concentrate on forming words when he was touching my skin like that.

“I’ve been thinking about you touching yourself,” he said, eyes wanderi
ng to the hemline of my dress. I could see him stiffening in his pants even as he spoke, his erection pressing into the cloth and threatening to burst the seam.

“Show me,” he demanded, quietly, as he nudged my knees apart with his own.

“Here?” I asked. I glanced toward the front of the car nervously, even though I ached to do it—I wanted to do anything he asked.

He nodded, dark eyes piercing mine. “It’s sound-proof. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

I tugged my dress up slowly, opening my legs for him just as he instructed. I ran one finger up my thigh, wanting to tease him and turn him on. I felt the smooth satin of my panties shift against my skin as I pushed the damp fabric aside.

“Look at that,” he said, lowering his voice to a seductive growl. “Baby, you’re so wet.”

He reached forward and clasped his hand around mine, leading my finger inside me. With his directing me, I fingered the outside of myself and felt the silky liquid dripping down my fingers before I finally dipped one inside. I breathed heavily, overcome with the pleasure of penetration. I removed my hand slowly, making sure to keep my eyes on his, the size of his excitement swelling by the minute.

Rob
raised my hand to his lips, taking my finger into his mouth and sucking the wet desire from my skin. “
So
good,” he whispered, pulling away.