Page 28 of Fumble

“It gets worse.”

“Don’t say another word. You need to send her packing, right now. You can’t do this, Vaughn. You wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t already know this.”

“I know. I keep steeling myself to send her away, or at least make sure our relationship stays strictly professional, but every time she looks at me or touches me… fuck! There’s something about her.” The line goes silent for a moment.

“Do you have feelings for his girl?”

“What? No! She’s hot, and I’m a red-blooded man.”

“You keep on lying to yourself. Listen, I can’t tell you what to do, bro. You know what I think? You know the difference between right and wrong. I gotta go. I have a date with a woman who isn’t related to any of my closest friends.”

“You’re a really shit friend sometimes.”

“And yet, I’m your moral compass. What does that say about you? Later, grandpa.”

His laugher is left ringing in my ears, but one question stays with me, burrowing under my skin like a parasite.

I take a few moments to calm the storm brewing in my gut before going in search of my bags. As I find some clothes to change into after a much-needed shower, I hear Faith singing. Rather than a melodious siren song, she sounds more akin to a strangled cat belting out some country tune I can’t quite place.

She must hear me moving around because her caterwauling comes to an abrupt halt.

“Hunter?”

“You expecting someone else?”

“Ha ha! Get in here.” I’m about to make an excuse to leave her when I notice the lace bra and panties on the floor outside the bathroom door. I brace myself on the safe side of the door, resting my forehead against the two inches of wood separating us.

“I don’t know if that’s in the rules.”

“As the game creator, I judge that it is. I could walk around naked all weekend, and as long as you don’t touch me, it won’t count against you.” Holy crap.

“I’m going to stroke out if you keep talking like that. I’m an old man.”

“Hunter, open the door.” Twisting the handle, I’m paving the road to hell, but I’m drawn to the desire in her voice.

Not prepared for the sight of her naked body immersed in a bubble bath, maintaining her modesty, as if a brick wall slams into my chest, the wind is knocked right out of me. Her hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head, her cheeks flushed from the heat.

“Care to join me?” She dangles one leg over the side of the tub, every inch a sultry goddess.

“I’m going to say… no.” Her playful pout is cute.

“You don’t like the idea of being naked in here with me?” She bites her lower lip causing a chain reaction that leads straight to my cock. I adjust myself under her watchful eye.

“Just the opposite. I think I’d like it way too much. I’m going to sit over here where I can at least pretend to resist your charms.” I sit across from her, the cool mirror at my back. If I were a gentleman, I’d face the other way, but I’ve never been much of a gentleman.

“So, are you going to tell me why you brought me here this weekend if you aren’t planning to deflower me?”

“Deflower? Can we not call it that?” Rubbing my hand over the scruff of my jaw, I let myself think about what she’s really asking.

“Popping my cherry? Stamping my V-Card? Devirginizing me?” She definitely has a sense of humor.

“Where do you get this stuff?”

“You don’t call it anything?” A smile pulls at the corner of her lips.

“I didn’t say that. Let me think.”

“Oh, I have a good one. Breaking the bandsaw!”

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