That’s the problem, though. Looking up means I’m going to see his face. His lip marked with that white scar that I remember tracing with my tongue. The look in his eyes as he dragged his fingers up and down my legs. It’s a feeling that I’ve never felt again, until last week, with his hands on my face, in my hair, tracing my mouth. Regardless of how many arms I’ve been in, since or before, nothing seems to compare to the memory of Henry Riggs in my bar, stealing my breath that night.
I sleep around. I have a healthy-ish sex life, and I enjoy being intimate with other people. I like the closeness, and the orgasms, obviously. But kissing other people never feels quite right. So, I “Pretty Woman” them, and try to avoid kissing altogether. It happens, of course, every now and then, but I don’t seek it out. I’m never staring at someone’s lips, thinking, “please crash into me.” Usually, I’m thinking about how will that mouth work me into an orgasm.
“G, that was the dirtiest eye-fuck I’ve seen in a long time. Dang, girl!” Law laughs.
“I’m human, boys. Hanky, stop flexing your dick at me, and I’ll keep my eyes above your equator,” I laugh out as he glares back at me.
“Yo! Riggs!” Henry and Law look toward the crowd. The largest of the hot springs tends to attract the tourists. But tonight, it seems like the townies are the only ones here. While many towns have community gardens in the summertime, Strutt’s Peak residents tend to the landscape and add amenities to the hot springs.
Massive boulders and dark gray rocks edge along each hot spring with some foliage. The main pool is the best lit and prettiest. With some underwater lights floating and string lights hung around and over, it’s easy to see the gorgeous bodies that are enjoying the summer evening. The larger pool also smells much nicer because lavender, lemongrass, and rosemary are planted along the perimeter. During the day, the water in the main hot spring is an off-white, blueish color, but at night, it’s black, much like the sky above right now, freckled with stars.
Law shimmies up to the redhead he was eyeing earlier without even a “see ya later.” As much as it would be smart to distract myself, and flirt with someone else, I don’t want to tonight. The idea of getting Henry out of my system still sounds like more fun than it should be, which means it’s time for me to go. So, with my cheeks flushed, I decide to listen to my reasonable brain for once, and not my hungry kitty.
“I’m going to take off.”
His strong hand grabs my elbow and forearm. Gah! Why does him touching me feel so fucking good? “You okay to drive?” It sounds like a growl, all deep voiced and low, like he doesn’t want to embarrass me by asking too loudly.
I pull my arm out of Henry’s grip, making my way back to the parking area.
Without looking, feeling him following behind me, I say over my shoulder, “I’m fine. You don’t need to follow me.”
“You’re not fine. You’ve been drinking. You’re even more drunk than I thought, if you really think I’ll allow you to drive home.”
I spin around to look at him, stopping us both in our tracks. “Allow?Oh, please.”
“You think I didn’t see how much you and Law threw back tonight? You’re not getting in a car unless you’re a passenger.”
His gaze trails down, stopping on my mouth for a second, before continuing down my throat and pausing at my chest. His eyes linger there longer than a glance.
“My tits are pretty, aren’t they?” I push them out a little more. “Now who’s looking?” I see his nostrils flare a little.
He ignores me and says, “I’m taking you home.”
“That’s very forward of you, Henry, but I think I’m good for tonight. My vibrator is all charged up and ready for me.”
With a quirked brow, I keep heading toward the parked cars. Why does it feel so good to throw little digs his way? He is right about drinking, but I wouldn’t be stupid enough to drive. I can quickly call a car to get me. Walking up to my trunk, I click it open, dropping my towel and shoes on the ground in front of it and throwing my bag in. I turn around to quickly pull on my cover-up skirt and neon tank. Henry stands tall, arms crossed, a few feet from me.
“I’m not going to drive. You mistake my very honest and smart mouth for being flighty or stupid. I know I’ve been drinking,” I say as I pull my tank down over my tits. Then I shimmy my short black skirt up over my legs and situate it around my waist.
“I’d never think about calling you stupid. I’m going home now anyway,” he says. I watch him swallow as his eyes track my movements. Reaching up under my skirt, I drag my bikini bottoms down my legs. “Um, it’s easy for me to drop you at your place. And it would…” He stops his sentence as I turn and bend over to pick the now discarded bikini bottoms off the ground. I throw them into my trunk and slip on my flip-flops. Once I click the lock and alarm, I find Henry rubbing the back of his neck.
“Let's go, big guy. I’m still thirsty,” I say, moving toward his truck.
“We’re not going out for another drink.”
“I have plenty of things for you to sip on. You’re coming in for a drink at my place. Don’t fight me on it. It's been a long day, and I need to turn off,” I say and laugh at my next thought. “Or maybe turn on.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Feel like getting turned on with me, Hanky?”
He ignores the question, but I’m almost positive I hear him say, “Already there,” under his breath.
Fifteen minutes later, we make our way down Main Street and, without too much overthinking, we trek up to my apartment. My stomach clenches at the thought of what being alone, without an audience, might be like. I know I’m playing with fire here. Common sense isn’t showing up, pushing me to stop this progression, so I move forward. What’s wrong with some flirting? What would be so wrong with scratching the Henry itch and pushing him right into the “been there, done that” category. Sure, the man makes me feel warm and safe. And yes, talking to him that night was just as incredible as learning his mouth, but what if we just keep it sexual now? One and done.
I take a cleansing breath as I open the door to my apartment and brush off the goosebumps that ripple down my arms as he stands close behind me. I slip into the new me, the one who can freely have sex with a beautiful man. Trust that we can make this simple and leave it in the past. I can do that. It’s brilliant. Get dirty, make a clean break, and then move on.
16
Henry
The fuck am I doing?I know she didn’t need to be walked to her door. I knew agreeing to a drink was asking to test the willpower I’m not sure I have a full handle on right now. And yet, here I am, walking into her apartment.