Page 16 of Inflame

Even if I had a strong opinion on anything, I’m smart enough to let her take the lead and then start vetoing everything to get the passion to bleed through her veins. Either that or ignore her entirely. I am not sure which she found more annoying. Just seeing her cute frustration at the cafe is enough to make me want to keep up with my strategy.

If it’s not broke, then why try to change it?

I log out of my account and open up my tracking app to see where the red dot is located at this moment. Claire is still at home. The moron she is dating is at work. I know this because the blue dot is hovering at the office space he leases.

I finish up my last-minute packing, set my security system, and head into the waiting elevator. My airport attire consists of beige linen pants and a white button-up shirt. I roll up my sleeves while I descend toward the lobby, cuffing them slightly below my elbows. I slip on my shades and walk out onto the street where my scheduled ride is waiting.

“Where to, sir?” the driver asks, loading up my luggage into the trunk of his vehicle.

“PDX.”

I settle into the backseat and snap my belt into place. My pulse quickens as I watch the scenery pass by. Upon arrival at the airport, the driver removes my bags from the trunk and I pay.

I check my phone for texts and make my way into the main terminal. There aren’t many crowds, and I easily spot Graham and Angie. I roll my bags over to them, accepting a hug from my soon-to-be sister-in-law. She is wearing a long sleeveless black dress and looking light on her feet. Stress has a bad way of bringing people down. I am glad she looks more carefree.

“We just have to wait for Claire,” Graham informs, smacking hands with mine in a half-shake.

I slide my hand into the side compartment of my carry-on and pull out the tickets. The process should be smooth to check in and get through security. I glance at my watch and see that Claire is already ten minutes late. I should have just sent a car for her or picked her up myself. She was still at her apartment when I left mine, so it’s no surprise to me that she is running behind on time.

I hear the clicking sound of high heels hitting tile before the loud screeching girly screams of excitement start. I turn and see Claire bounding through the entryway, dressed in glitter. It has to be painted on, it is so skintight against her golden skin. Fuck me sideways. How am I going to endure a two-hour flight with a hard-on?

5

NIC

My mouth drops as the gold disco ball flutters by me to get to Angie first for a huge hug. Even with heels, Claire is so short that she has to stand on her tiptoes to embrace Graham. Me? I get a wave and a glance away. I can’t tell if she hates me or is just shy. It would be best for her to water and nurture the former. That’s if she is smart.

“Let’s get the party started!” she announces, her bubbling energy knocking down her pink-and-white striped suitcase accidentally in the process. “I brought minis.”

“Um, Claire, we can’t get drunk in the airport,” Angie scolds.

“We still need to get through security,” I mumble, but no one must hear me. I mean, how can they, over their giddiness?

Claire throws her head back and bursts out laughing so loud I flinch. I worry her boobs are going to fall out of her top. “Not miniature bottles of alcohol. We can get those on the plane,” she says while digging through her carry-on. “I brought micro penises!”

I stare in shock at the tiny penises hanging from a plastic chain. There has to be twenty of them strung together to form a necklace. Who even comes up with these types of things?

Claire drapes the gimmicky chain over Angie’s neck. “You know how I am a sucker for penis paraphernalia.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Graham mutters, moving to stand near me. I can already tell he wants no part of this nonsense. “Hope we survive this trip.”

I chuckle, watching the girls live their best life. They are causing a small scene with their high-pitched laughter. However, I think most of the staring is due to Claire’s obscene outfit. I’m going to go to jail if one more asshole checks out the curve of her ass in that scrap of fabric she decided to wear. She is one bend away from flashing the entire airport.

“Boys, don’t you worry,” Claire says, catching Graham and my attention. “I brought you both some pussy.”

I nearly choke on the saliva pooling in my mouth. She cannot be serious.

“I’m not wearing a vagina necklace,” Graham says flatly.

“Same,” I agree. I draw the line.

Claire rummages through her bag and whips out two boxes, one in each hand. “If the description is accurate, you both can thank me later. After you’ve had your fun.” She winks at us. Winks!

I take the box from her hand and read the words printed across the front out loud. “Pocket pussy? A penis’s playground and pleasure center…a sleeve that will get the juices flowing…”

“Only the best for you boys,” Claire chirps, smacking her hands together like she just gave us the most perfect gift. “I got one hairy and one shaved. Don’t fight over them.”

I skeptically look at the cheesy-ass male models on the front with their weird O-faces. Is she seriously thinking this is a sex toy I would actually use? There is no way I am sliding my dick into a silicon deathtrap. No. Fucking. Way. What if it gets stuck? Just cut it out?

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