Operation Foreplay (24 page)

Jared squared up and missed the put when I said, “It bends a little to the left.”

“What?” I asked when he narrowed his eyes at me and took the shot again.

Seven holes later, I’d lost count and asked, “How many strokes?”

“With
your
hands, no more than a dozen.” He winked.

“Is it us or is golf really perverted?” I licked my melting ice cream cone. Three holes ago, Jared had abandoned the course and ran inside for two cones. He finished his quickly. I was taking my time.

“It’s us. And would you finish that ice cream already? You’re killing me.”

“Oh you mean you don’t like it when I do this?” I licked the melting ice cream from the bottom of the cone to the top, swirling my tongue around the sweet white cream.

“Stop.”

“No.” I continued licking the cone, my tongue wide and flat. I bit the bottom of the cone and sucked the ice cream through the hole.

“Mel.” He warned.

“Jared.” I didn’t care. I kept licking and sucking my ice cream cone like a porn star. I bit the bottom of the cone and sucked the ice cream from the bottom.

He picked up the balls and walked us to the last hole. “We bang this in together.”

Once again I spit out the contents of my mouth.

“You know what your dad said. No one likes a spitter.”

“You’ve got spooge on your cheek, dear.” I pulled his head down and licked the ice cream off his face.

He started jumping. “Ball. Club. Now.”

“I spread my legs like this?” I widened my stance and stuck out my ass, gripping the club tightly. Jared ignored me and took up the spot behind me.

“On three. One. Two. Three.”

We both putted out balls and the second the balls entered the hole, a fountain of water spurted from the ground. He shook his head, rubbed his hand down his face, and said, “I can’t take it. Drinks?”

I knew exactly what was going through his head. “Yeah. Drinks.”

*  *  *

“To sexless relationships!” Jared raised his glass and laughed.

“Who needs sex? Not us!” I clinked my glass to his.

“Think your parents are upset we left right after dinner?”

We’d walked around the boardwalk for an hour before stopping at the bar. As the sun went down the boardwalk got more crowded. After mini golf, we ended up at a small local bar a few blocks inland.

“Nah. I think my mom is trying to give us more alone time.” I took a sip of my beer.

“Alone time. A week ago I would have killed for alone time with you. Now it makes me feel like I’m going to vomit.” He half laughed.

“Thanks!” I punched his arm.

“You know what I mean. Do you have any idea how bad blue balls hurt?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Girls get lady blue balls. Kind of like a swollen clit with no stimulation for release.”

“Too much clit talk. More drinking.” The last half of his pint slid down his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly.

Bobbed.

Head bobbing.

Blow jobs.

The palms of my hands tried to rub the vision away from my eyes.

“Ahh! How come when we take sex completely off the table, that’s all we can think about?”

“Are you kidding? That’s all I could think about before I took it off the table. Removing it made it worse.”

“I swear to God my clitoris is going to pack her bags and take a trip to fuck-off land.”

“And my dick is going to join her.”

We sat in silence, drinking our beers and staring at the television. But watching baseball didn’t help. I started thinking of running through first.

Rounding bases.

Sliding into home.

Home run.

Sex.

Sex.

Penis in my vagina.

And I woke up the shriveled old lady that was once my best friend. I crossed my legs to stifle the spread of heat but to no avail. I downed my beer.

“Wanna get hammered?”

As soon as I looked at Jared, I knew he was having as hard a time as I was. “Yep.” He drained the last of his beer and slammed the bottle on the table, motioning for the bartender.

I thought back to the night of Caroline’s one night stand. “Wanna get hammered on sex?”

“What? Sex is off the table, remember?”

I proceeded to explain the night of Caroline’s infamous one night stand when she and Ryan wooed each other with explicitly named cocktails that ended with an ice pack for her lady parts in the morning.

“But Caroline is with Brian.”

“Right.”

“So who is Ryan?”

“The one night stand.”

“What?”

“Forget it. Do you want to get fucked up with dirty cocktails or not?”

“Let’s do it.” He slapped the bar top.

“Do you know how to make a Sex on My Face?” I asked the bartender, who smiled and nodded.

“Yes, I do.”

“Make it two and make them shots.” I turned to Jared. “Good?”

“Sex on My Face?” His face was screwed up; he looked to be in pain. I was in the same kind of pain.

I mentally counted backward from ten. “Yeah.” I thought a minute. “Since you’re all into stupid challenges and shit, here’s one for you. Whoever gets a boner first loses.”

“So what do I win?” He smiled and I sighed at the sight of his dimples.

“Who says you’ll win?”

“I’m ten times better at controlling my boner than you are.” He spread his arms and plastered a shit-eating grin across his face.

“You think so?”

“I know so. A hundred times.” He picked up the drink the bartender handed him.

“We’ll see about that.” I downed my shot before he did. “Your turn.”

“Two shots of Blue Balls.”

“Coming right up.” The bartender was suddenly more interested in our end of the bar than he was before we decided to drink fuck each other under the table.

“Blue Balls?”

“I’m a glutton for punishment, what can I say?”

“You don’t have to say anything. But you
can
kiss me.”

He leaned over and barely touched his lips to mine, appearing uninterested.

“Was that a kiss?” I asked the bartender as he delivered our Blue Balls.

“No, ma’am.”

“That was me controlling my boner. I have more self-control than you do.” He picked up his shot glass, winked, and said, “Drink up, loser.”

“Hell, you have more self-control than I do.” The bartender placed both palms flat on the bar and ducked his head.

“Whatever.” I threw my head back and let the alcohol pour down my throat. I grabbed the bartender’s hand. “Suck Bang Blow. Make it two and make it snappy.” I snapped my fingers. Hours of steady drinking followed by our insane who-has-more-control-over-their-boner challenge was clouding my head and I was getting feisty.

“What did you order?”

“Why? Can’t handle a little,” I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Suck Bang Blow?”

Jared cleared his throat and tugged on the bottom of my strapless white-and-navy striped tunic that was doubling as a dress and was entirely too short to begin with. I gave him the side eye and he coughed. “It was, uh, riding up.”

“You don’t like that?” I tugged the hemline back where it was. “I’m so sorry.” I pouted, then bit my bottom lip.

“Don’t do that.” He growled.

“Don’t do what?”

He tugged on my bottom lip before leaning in and biting it himself.

“Here you go.” The bartender dropped the drinks in front of us. “So what is all this for?”

“It’s a bet,” Jared said without taking his eyes off me.

“Trying to see who gets a boner first.” I finished the explanation.

“Looks like I win then!” The bartender laughed and said, “What’s next?”

Jared handed me my drink and said, “Leg Spreaders.”

“Fuck.” The bartender shook his head and walked away.

“He wins, huh?” I asked.

“Hardly.” Jared ran his hand up my thigh, his fingers toying with my hemline.

“Be careful,” I cautioned and placed my empty glass on the bar top as the bartender deposited our next drink. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

“Shit,” the bartender whispered and walked away.

“Fuck
me
! Goddamn it, Mel!” Jared groaned, threw back the last shot, tossed money on the bar, grabbed my hand, and all but yanked me out the door.

“Where are we going?”

He dragged me toward the back of the building before spinning me so my back flew against the wall. His lips attacked mine. The second his mouth took mine, my entire body sang out in a chorus of
’bout fucking time.

His hands cupped my breasts and his fingers pinched my nipples through the fabric of my dress.

“Yes.” The word slipped out of my mouth. I no longer had control of my vocal chords. Gutteral sounds, moans, sharp, high-pitched squeals, and a slew of
oh fuck
s escaped from my mouth any time he concentrated on any other part of my body.

“Melody.” His hands snaked around my back and one hand fisted my dress and lifted it up as the other felt my bare ass and squeezed before he lifted my leg and hitched it around his waist.

My eyes crossed as my insides pulsated every time he shoved his tongue in my mouth. I grabbed a hold of it and held it in place with my teeth before sucking it hard.

“Fuck.” He breathed and unbuckled his belt before I came to my senses.

“Blister dick!” I pushed him away.

“What?”

“Stinky pussy!”

“No, no. Not now.” He dove back inside my mouth.

I shoved him away again and started doing jumping jacks, muttering
blister dick
over and over.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” He leaned over with his hands on his knees, panting and dropping his head.

“Blister dick, bitch. I win, motherfucker! A ha ha ha ha!” I circled him while doing my jumping jacks.

“Fuck.” He started doing jumping jacks in time with mine while repeating
stinky pussy
over and over.

“We are two fucking peas,” I said between jumps.

“Come again?”

“Well, look at us. Two people who go through life looking for our next orgasm doing jumping jacks in the back alley of a bar because we are too horny.”

“Real stellar moment.” He sounded out of breath.

“I don’t know.” I smiled and stopped circling him. “I can’t think of another pea I’d like to share this particular pod with.”

Chapter Twenty

T
hank you for inviting me. I had a great time this week.” Jared kissed my hand after I hugged my parents and hopped into the truck.

“I did too.”

“You still okay with our little agreement?” He pulled out onto the street and headed home.

“Sure. Why not? I can do—or not do—anything for another fourteen days.”

“Thirteen.”

“Thirteen what?”

“Days. Today is thirteen days. Yesterday was fourteen days.”

“That”—I glanced over at him—“may be the sexiest thing anyone’s ever said to me before.”

His laugh circled around me and squeezed.

Slipping off my flip-flops, I rested my feet on the dashboard. I felt calmer than I had in who knew how long. My head was clear, Jared was tracing circles on the back of my hand, Thirty Seconds to Mars was playing on the radio. The few days away were exactly what I needed to recharge and redirect.

I suddenly turned in my seat to face Jared.

A big smile grew on his face. “What?”

“You should do it.”

“Do what?” He turned down the radio.

“Open a place. Get your chef on.”

“You’re crazy!” He laughed and turned the volume back up.

I pressed the radio off and said, “No, really. Look. I have money. I can invest. I talked to my dad, he’s interested. I called Berk—”

“Wait, what? Mel, no.” He took off his baseball hat and threw it on the dash.

“You’re talented. Look, that dinner you made for everyone? They can’t stop talking about it. Every time you walk in a kitchen, your eyes light up. I can tell, you’re in your element. It makes you happy.”

“Maybe I’m happy because of who’s in the kitchen with me.”

I couldn’t keep the grin off my face and it was so big, my cheeks hurt. I linked my fingers between his.

“Really. Listen. Berk is looking for locations near my apartment and your sister’s. He has some leads, just depends on your thoughts about size and location. I have the money. Like I said, Dad wants in, and Berk is interested in investing, too.”