Forever Pucked Page 13
I try to redeem myself by making a pot of coffee. And I toast a bagel for her, slathering it in lactose-free cream cheese so she doesn’t have to leave for work hungry.
This morning is definitely not going as planned.
Violet rushes down the stairs at five after eight. I meet her at the door with her travel mug and bagel.
“What’s this?”
“Breakfast. It’s that mocha coffee you like and one of those French toast bagels with extra lactose-free cream cheese.”
She wraps her arms around me and lays her cheek on my chest. I return the hug as best I can with my hands full.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I got so upset with you this morning. It’s just that my job is important to me. You already take care of me on so many levels. I don’t even have to do my own laundry anymore. Beyond needing a purpose, I don’t want to waste the skill set I’ve acquired, because God knows I’m seriously lacking in the housekeeping department. Plus we already have someone who comes in and does all that stuff I’m not good at. We don’t have any children, and we’re not making any anytime soon. I don’t think I could spend all day updating my Facebook profile and using entire cans of Aquanet on my hair.”
She’s referring to my mom with that last part. “I think she uses Aussie.”
“Same difference.”
“Aussie smells a little better.”
Violet releases me, puts her hands on my shoulders and kisses my chin. “I’ll give Super MC a big, warm hug when I get home tonight, okay?”
“We can hardly wait.” I drop my head so I can give her a real kiss, with some tongue.
Violet grabs my shirt, bending backward as I keep leaning in. “I really have to go,” she mumbles around my tongue.
“I’m not stopping you.”
She realizes then that I’m right. My hands are full. I’m not keeping our mouths fused, she is. She releases me, and a long breath. I grin, having succeeded in making her not mad at me anymore—and now she’s probably thinking about sex. Good. She can’t take care of her needs at the office the same way I can at home. All damn day, if I want.
“I’ll see you tonight.” I pass her the bagel and coffee and open the door leading to the garage.
Violet stops short. “Shit.”
Her car isn’t in its spot. “Did you leave the car in the driveway?” Sometimes she does this. Violet isn’t the best at parking. She dings the corners or hits the mirrors all the time. I usually do the driving when we’re together, mostly so I won’t lose my mind.
“It’s at work. Charlene drove me home.”
“I’ll take you in. Gives me more time with you.” I kiss her cheek.
“You’re so good to me. I love you.” She sounds contrite now.
“I want to take care of you as much as you’ll let me.” I give her a pat on the ass. “You get in the car; I’ll throw on shoes.”
Violet grabs the keys to the SUV, and I head back inside, waiting until she can’t see me before I smile. I’m winning all kinds of points. It’s perfect. I’ll have dinner ready when she gets home, and then she can be dessert. By that time, my comment about her quitting her job should be all but forgotten.
Violet’s in the car scarfing down her bagel as I slide into the driver’s seat. She puts her hand up to cover her mouth. “This is so good.”
“Extra creamy, the way you like it.” I stretch my arm across the seat so I can rub the back of her neck while I pull out of the garage. The maintenance guys have been by again, so the driveway is clear, but the streets aren’t in quite the same condition.
“So creamy. I feel like I owe you a blow job or something for denying the Super MC this morning.”
“He misses your mouth,” I say, like my dick is actually a person.
Violet’s named him, she dresses him up on occasion, and she’s made a Play-Doh sculpture, so I suppose in some ways he is his own man.
“That’s because I give seriously awesome blow jobs.” She takes a bite of her bagel and cream cheese squeezes out of the corner of her mouth, like jizz would if she happened to decide to go down on me in the car.
“This is true.” I shift my erection around in my jogging pants so it’s sticking up, tenting my sweats. The head rests on the base of the steering wheel, covered by gray fabric.
“Wow, you’re really excited about a blow job, eh?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m always excited about your mouth on my cock.”
Violet takes another bite of her bagel, oblivious to my hint. Or maybe ignoring it. So I try to be more obvious. I pull down the waistband so my erection pops out, the cool air making my balls tighten.
Violet glances down. “What’re you doing?”
“You said you felt bad. I’m making it easier to alleviate your guilty conscience.”
“Using more than one fifty-cent word in a sentence isn’t going to get you road head.”
I stroke the back of her neck. “You’ve given me road head before.”
“Yeah, but that was in the summer, and we were on back roads, not in the middle of the city.” She gestures to the traffic around us, which is filling in quickly as we head into the Loop.
“The windows are tinted. No one can see.”
“The roads are slick. I don’t want your attention divided between me bobbing on your dick and driving. This isn’t Canada, Alex. Not everyone here believes in snow tires. I need you focused on our safety, not how warm and wet my mouth is, or how far I can get your dick down my throat.”