Page 42 of Bang Buddies With Benefits
“Not at all. Everyone needs to release some emotion from time to time.”
“Ew,” she said, wrinkling up her nose. “Lately it keeps happening to me, and I don’t like it.”
A laugh slipped out, and she joined in. Even with mascara tracking down her cheeks, she was so pretty it stole my breath away for a moment. Her big brown eyes latched onto me, rousing a sensation deep in my soul that I’d never experienced before.
It was more than desire—that much I knew. “What’s to like? Don’t take this as an admission or anything, but Imight’vesuffered from feelings myself before. According to certain mental health experts, it’s healthy. Like an oil change.”
“Is this like when the doctor told my grandma to substitute olive oil for lard? Because it didn’t take, and I have to stand by her choice. Lard just tastes better.”
I tilted my head, conveying she wasn’t funny. Even though she definitely was, and my smile undoubtedly gave away the fact that I thought so. “I’m talking about all the gunk that builds up in the oil pan of a car, or say, a motorcycle.”
“Uh-oh. Here he goes,” she said with a laugh, and I wound my arm around her waist, tugging her to me and slipping my hand in her back pocket.
“That’s right, it’s happening. See, all that gunk builds up, even with a top-of-the-line filter. Eventually, you’ve got to dump it and start fresh, with all new oil. Things run smoother that way.”
She nodded. “Okay, in the end, it ended up being a good metaphor.”
“Never underestimate bar tender logic. It’s always sound.”
“Because of all the booze?”
“Exactly,” I said, dropping a quick peck on her smiling lips.
“I hope all that wisdom transfers to the plumbing department as well.”
“Don’t make me remind you how well I lay pipe.”
Catalina tipped onto her toes and brushed her mouth over mine. “Don’t make me tell you that if you laid it that well, you wouldn’t need to remind me.” She cackled and attack kissed me. “Only kidding.” Another kiss. “And not just because I’m begging you for a favor. See, I even remember how much you like it when I beg.”
“Mmm-hm.” I didn’t deny it or insist I’d prove my claim, because I knew she was well aware both were 100 percent true. I patted her ass, hesitant to let go but wanting to pull away before she insisted I do so. “Now, get me your tools, woman. Once this job is done, I’ll give you another one. Not to spoil the surprise, but it’s going to involve my cock and your tongue.”
19
Catalina
“Almost there,” Zac said as he secured the last piece into place beneath the sink. “I’ll just make sure everything’s nice and tight.”
When I’d decided to take time away from studying case files filled with triggering facts and pictures, I hadn’t expected to end up down on my knees a foot or so away from Zac.
Sadly, it was for cleaning reasons instead of fun ones. So far, I’d gone through three towels and filled an entire bucket with gross dirty water and slop. I eyed the towels, considering whether it was worth washing them, and then decided after the horrors I’d put them through, it’d be best to give them a proper trashcan burial. That way, I could buy new towels that wouldn’t have awful flashbacks like I’d had over the past few weeks.
Yeah, I was attempting to turn what was becoming a big deal into a trivial joke. For other painful experiences in my life, I’d had success with that method, but when it came to losing Mateo…
The way I’d lost him was a machete to my heart, and the only thing worse than leaving the blade in was the idea of finally yanking the damn thing out. I didn’t believe time healed all wounds, but I knew it was impossible to heal while holding on so tightly my palms were bloody and raw.
I sprayed cleaner on the tile floor, wet and wrung out a fresh sponge, and gave my floor one last thorough wipe. In a lot of ways, cleaning was turning into the relaxing activity I’d meant for cooking to be. It was satisfying to be able to control the level of cleanliness. To watch the mess fade, the desired result a reachable distance away. Not that I’d ever choose to clean my floors this way ever again, but still.
Okay, and it helped that Zac was in the same room, occasionally shooting me smiles or teasing me in a way that made everything seem lighter. As I’d scraped the blackened chunks formerly known as chicken into the trash, he’d joked, “You’ve certainly got some expert-level mess-making skills—only you could start a flood and a fire at the same time.”
Before I could come up with a clever comeback, he’d added, “But you’ve also got me, and we’ll get this placed fixed up in no time.”
My stomach growled, loud enough that Zac glanced over his prone body at me.
If I had the energy, I might’ve hesitated to turn this from an emergency situation to something that felt more like a typical evening for a typical couple, but I didn’t have anything left. No excuses, no desire to fight my desires. The truth was that I wanted him to stay longer. “Are you hungry? I can order us dinner.”
“Okay,” he said. So simply, as if this wasn’t new territory for us. The wrench clanked against the other tools in the box as he tossed it in, and then he stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “There. Good as… well not new, but almost.”
I pushed to my feet and eyed the inside of the sink, as if that’d tell me anything. “You sure it’s all fixed? I’ll cry if I dump the dirty bucket of water in there for it to just come back up.”
