Page 11 of Just a Little Crush
A book with a cutesy cover sits open on the sofa and I pick it up and scan a couple of pages. This is not cute. This is a couple going at in in an elevator and it is absolute filth. I didn’t even know they made books this dirty. I need to get a grip of my dick. No, not that, the opposite of that.
I fold up the blankets on her sofa and plump the cushions. Three half-full glasses of water sit abandoned on her coffee table. I tip them into her houseplants, take them through to her small kitchen and wash them in the sink.
“When did you last check your smoke alarms?” I call out.
“Every Monday morning, just like I promised,” comes her reply. Good girl. I like knowing she does what I tell her to do. I wonder if I’m on her mind when she does it?
I check the one in her kitchen again anyway, reaching up to depress the test button. After the beeping stops, I hear her shout. “Do you not believe me?”
“Never hurts to check twice.”
I really don’t see how she can manage here. There’s a woven rug on the kitchen floor that’s a trip hazard even at the best of times, let alone on crutches. The windows at the front of the house are original and she’ll need to reach up high to open them. I’ve seen her balancing on a little footstool to do it. And those stairs are narrow, dimly lit, with no handrail. Fucking ridiculous. I’ll install one as soon as I can.
In her bathroom, I shove everything on the little shelf into her toiletries bag and storm back through to her room. “You’re not staying here. So tell me what you need, or you can spend a week wearing my clothes.”
“Fine,” she scoffs. “But I forbid you from taking time off work.”
“Fine,“ I scoff back. “I’m on day shift tomorrow, then two nights, then four days off anyway.” I can’t help but grin. She hasn’t won that easily.
“Fine. Get my jogging bottoms.” She points me in the direction of the wardrobe, the second drawer for t-shirts, the third for pyjamas. I have to steady myself against the top of the cabinet when I open her underwear drawer. Crammed full of these bright, lacy, little things, my mind floods with the most incredible images. Bec in this scrap of underwear. Spread out on my bed. Me peeling them off with my teeth.
A lick of shame crawls up my spine. I’m a perverted arsehole intruding into her most personal space. My shame spirals into a heavy knot in my stomach when a thought occurs to me. Who does Bec wear these for? And why do I want to make sure no man ever sees her underwear again?
I grab a bunch in my fist and see stars when her wand vibrator reveals itself. I’m learning a lot of things about Rebecca Charlton today, and all of them are torturing me in the dick.
“Do you need this?” I ask, holding it up for her to see.
“Oh piss off,” she whines, burying her face in the crook of her good elbow. “And shut that drawer!”
I put it back, but it’s too late. I’ve seen it now, and the rest. The image of her naked, touching herself, riding against the buzzing head, is already scorching itself into my brain. I picture her listening to that audiobook and driving herself wild.
“I can’t believe that filth you were listening to in your car,” I say, closing the drawer and dropping her underwear into the bag.
Bec’s cheeks are rosy red. “Look, Renn, I know you’re a nice guy. I’m sorry if it was offensive to you. Please, can we agree that you’ll never mention it again? I’m already half dead from embarrassment.”
She doesn’t need to be embarrassed. If anything, it piqued my interest. I want to know everything she’s into now. “I’m not offended. I just had no idea you were into that stuff.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly write it on the sandwich board outside the shop.”
“You should,” I laugh. “Business would triple.”
Back at home, I ditch her bags first, then carry Bec in from the car. Half the curtains in the street are probably twitching behind me. It’s getting late, so I head straight for the guest bedroom and lay her on the bed. My dick twitches behind my fly. Though this is how many of our fantasies about Bec begin, these circumstances are far from sexual.Not now, dick.
I get to work plumping pillows for her to rest against, and bring water to her bedside table. I set out the prescription we collected before we left the hospital, plug in her phone charger, then dig her e-reader out of her bag. Finally, I grab an ice pack from my freezer, sit down on the bed, and settle her legs across my lap.
“I hope the room is OK for you,” I say, wrapping the pack around her ankle. “I know it’s not exactly up to your sex dungeon standards. I could probably install a swing if you need one?”Why am I torturing myself like this?
I don’t miss the way she blushes and looks away from me. “It’s fine.”
“You sure? Want me to order a—“
“Rennie quit it!” she snaps. “I cannot stay here if you’re just going to tease me all week.”
Little does Bec know, teasing her for a week is my idea of heaven. I don’t know why I can’t quit ribbing her about this. “I’m sorry, I’m just seeing you in a totally different light.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just didn’t think you were the type of woman who was into all that dirty talk.”
