Page 72 of Unspoken Words
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, I would. But, seriously, look at you. Is she really worth all of this?”
My fingers brushed plastic, so I opened my eyes, secured the bottle, and unscrewed the lid, bringing it to my lips and chugging down the water while contemplating what she’d just said. Yeah, deep down Ellie was worth it, but she’d ripped a gaping hole in my heart so big I— “Owww. It’s glass.”
“What is?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“My foot. There’s glass in it.”
I sat upright. “Show me.”
“NO! Are you crazy? A few minutes ago you were seeing things that weren’t even there. What makes you think that, now, you’ll see what really is there?”
“Just give me a look.”
“Fine.” She swivelled her butt in the passenger side chair like a yoga instructor about to meditate and then stretched out her injured foot, flashing me more than what she should’ve. “Oops.” She giggled and covered up with the length of her dress. “Sorry. I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
I swallowed and put down my bottle. True, it wasn’t something I hadn’t seen, but it had been a long time, and her arse and legs were definitely nice to look at.
“Oh my,” she drawled. “Is it the alcohol or are you blushing?”
“It’s the alcohol,” I choked out.
“Uh huh.” Lilah leaned back against the door and opened her legs a little wider. “Be gentle with me.”
My dick stirred in my pants because dicks don’t always know what’s best for them, so I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore it and her, instead lifting her foot closer to my face to inspect it. Lilah’s skin was soft, her toenails dainty and painted blood red; they matched the cut on the edge of her heel.
She wiggled her toes.
“Stay still. I can see it.”
“But you’re tickling me.”
“I’m not doing it on purpose.”
She laughed and then held her breath, cheeks puffed.
“Nearly there … Got it.”
“Are you shitting me?” She wrenched her foot back.
“No. Well, I got some at least. Give it back here and let me check if there’s anything left.”
She stretched out again, and I couldn’t help but take note of how flexible she was.
“You must be one of those people who do things better when they’re drunk.” She slid her fingertip into her mouth and gently bit down on it.
I shifted my eyes back to her foot. “Maybe I am.”
“Oh yeah? So what else are you good at?”
“This.” I pressed the pads of my thumbs into her calf muscle and carefully massaged. I knew I shouldn’t have the moment I did it, but like my dick, my hands weren’t listening to my brain either.
She gasped, but then her eyelids fluttered closed and her leg relaxed, opening even wider. I could now see her black, lace underwear, and I had the sudden urge to pull it down her legs.
“Did you get it all?” she asked.
I kept staring between her legs, memories of Ellie and me by the river, in her bedroom, on my bed, my hands gliding her underwear from her hips.
