Page 12 of Maid in America

She smiled and rested her face on his chest, closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation of his rough hands as they stroked her naked skin.

3

Bvvvvvvvvrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The sound of the phone’s vibrations awoke them.

“You need to get that?”

He looked at the caller ID and flopped the phone back down. “Ugh. Let it ring,” he grumbled.

Bvvvvvvvvrrrrrrrrrrrr.

He turned and grasped her bare hips, pulling her close. She wrapped a leg around his waist, feeling his half-hard shaft graze the area between her thighs. Her lips found his in the darkness, his tongue seeking the wet comforts of her mouth.

Barrett grabbed her bare ass and swatted it with a playfulthwap.

Bvvvvvvvvrrrrrrrrrrrr.

As their kiss deepened, her hands wandered, tracing his biceps with her fingertips. “Who would call you this late?”

He traced one of her breasts with an index finger.

Her body stiffened. “You should pick up. It could be important.”

He nodded, catching her lower lip with his teeth and giving it a rough nibble.

Bvvvvvvvvrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The sound doused him with a cold wave of reality. He crawled out of the bed with an apologetic look.

“Don’t… move.”

She watched pale moonlight paint the edges of his firm ass and muscular thighs.

Snatching his cell phone from somewhere on the floor, the screen lit up his strong jawline. He slammed his finger against the answer button and spoke. “What?” The voice on the other end sounded angry. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just late,” he said, glancing at his phone to see the time. “Or super early, I guess. Did you sleep at all?”

A woman’s voice seeped through the other end. Aphrodite sat up, covering her tits with a thin sheet.

“No,” he mumbled, “It’s okay. Did you need something?”

There was a pause, and his shoulders visibly sagged. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You wantmeto go?”

Her smile fell with the sudden realization that Barrett might be attached. His being in a relationship had never even occurred to her. She’d never even asked. She barely knew anything about him.

She searched for her bra and panties in the dark, eavesdropping.

Who was on the phone with him? Another booty call?

A girlfriend?

A wife?

She glanced around the apartment. Even in the moonlit darkness, there wasn’t a feminine touch to be found. No throw pillows. No candles. No blankets hanging from the couch. Not a hint of perfume or women’s clothes in the floor piles. There wasn’t one piece of wall art with positive affirmations or a single meaningless decoration on his coffee table.

“Ofcoursehe does.” Barrett grimaced, hanging his head in defeat. “Alright! Fine! I’ll lay off. Just sayin’ that of the two of us, I got the brainsandthe brawn, and Dusty got nothin’ but a weak spine.”

Dusty?

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