Page 14 of What About Us
“Jesus,” I say, glancing down at it before passing it back to her. “Where did you get this?” I say, blowing the skunky smoke away from her. I already feel the stirring of delicious, lightheaded euphoria.
She laughs and takes another drag. Holding the smoke in her lungs, she says, “Trevor.”
“Roxy’s Trevor?”
“Yep,” she says on her exhale with a sly smile, passing the joint back to me. “It’s good, right?”
I pull in another lungful and drop my head back onto the loveseat, letting the smoke settle for a couple seconds before exhaling.
A laugh escapes me, and I push it back into her hand. “That’s enough for me. Either this shit is better than good, or I’ve become a little bitch in my old age.”
“Four hits? You going soft on me?” She takes one last drag before gently stubbing it out on the ceramic ashtray on the table in front of us. It’s served its one and only purpose for a while, because we only smoke weed, and rarely at that.
She stretches her bare legs out, draping them across my bent knees, before opening the little tin and dropping the roach inside. Against my better judgment, I run a hand up her shin but manage to keep my eyes below her knee. It’s like this every time we’re together—the easy touches, being close. Before that kiss, it’d never been an issue keeping things friendly. But right now, when my inhibitions are slightly lowered, all I can think about is putting my hands on her.
So, I do what I do best when shit gets a little too serious: I make a joke. “When’s the last time you shaved these legs, Jameson? They’re prickly as fuck.”
A laugh bursts out of her, and she playfully backhands my bicep. “Shut up. Besides, who the hell am I shaving for? I haven’t gotten laid in…” She tips her head to the side, narrowing her eyes in thought.
My bark of laughter interrupts her. “Well,fuck. Maybe if you shaved your yeti legs, you would.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Fuck you! I’ll have you know, some guys like the unshaven look.” She shrugs. “Well, at least for pussies.”
I toss her a look, my fingers making small circles on her knee. “You’re unhinged. You know that, right?”
“Yep.” She smirks and bumps the inside of my thigh with her black lacquered toes, making my cock twitch. “But you love me.”
I chuckle, the sound brittle to my ears. I need to get laid. And soon, before I jump my best friend and ruin everything.
“How do you like your pussy these days, Huddy?”
My gut tightens, as does the front of the flannel covering my dick. What is this woman trying to do, kill me? The shit-eating grin on her face is dazzling and does nothing to relieve my discomfort. Her mouth is one of my favorite things. Perfect in every way, from the little Cupid’s bow to the fullness of that rosy bottom lip.
I grin, shaking my head. “I don’t have a pussy.”
She’s unfazed. “I used to shave mine completely bare, but now, I just leave—"
“Fuck no,” I say and shove her feet off my lap. Sitting forward, I tug on the back of my neck.
She’s fucking with me, but even a few drags of the strongest weed known to man isn’t enough to make me listen to how my best friend grooms her pubic hair. Because I’ve already thought about it. A lot. And I absolutely do not need the visual confirmed for me. It’s hard enough to keep my mind out of the gutter where she’s concerned.
I force out a breath. “I don’t want to hear any more about small hands, smaller dicks, or…or your...” I wave a hand in her direction and hope she doesn’t notice the semi I’m currently sporting from talking about her pussy.
She cackles, cocking a brow at me. “What? I listen to you talk about all your escapades.”
“I don’t have escapades. You know about one chick I hook up with when she’s in the city,” I say, shaking my head once. I can’t believe how dry mythroat suddenly is. I snatch up my beer and take a long drink, and a bit dribbles down my chin in my haste.
“Oh, my bad. That must have been myotherbest friend who had so much sex one weekend, he ran out of condoms,” she throws out.
I chuckle and turn my head to look at her, beer bottle halfway to my mouth. “Ok, fair. But did I tell you about my manscaping routine? Shaving my junk, and shit?”
“Do youhavea manscaping routine?” She raises her eyebrows with a smirk. “Do tell. I’m all ears.”
“Yeah, actually.” I sit back and shoot her a grin, ready to turn the tables on her. “I shave everything, except one little patch at the base. So, it looks like Bamm has a cute little toupee.”
“Wait.” She crosses her arms over her chest, drawing my eyes there briefly, but I manage to rip them away. “You named your junk Bamm?” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at me. “God, you’re so predictable.”
I wobble my head back and forth with a grin. “Technically, Bamm-Bamm, but Bamm for short. You know, from ‘The Flintstones.’ My nuts are Fred and Barney.”
