Sultry at 30 (Love Without Batteries) Page 4

  “I didn’t say it was innocent,” I replied. “What the hell did I just get myself into? All I wanted was cake, and now I’m going out with a guy tomorrow. Not just any guy. I’m going out with Luke’s friend.”

  “Don’t forget that Luke’s friend kissed you stupid today,” Chelsea added.

  “I didn’t even think that was a real thing before today,” I admitted. “I write about it all the time, but I figured it was just a fantasy we all have of the perfect kiss. It didn’t seem possible to actually kiss someone stupid, but apparently, a person can be kissed stupid.”

  “I know,” Chelsea said, and I could tell she was fighting a fit of giggles.

  “Don’t rub in the fact that Luke has been kissing you stupid for months,” I told her. “It’s obvious to the world.”

  “Hey!” Chelsea protested. “Don’t even think about starting in with any dumb blonde jokes.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetie,” I assured her. “You never understand them, anyway.”

  “Bitch,” she shot back. “I should tell Sebastian about your fascination with spanking. Maybe he’ll help you out with that fantasy.”

  “Don’t you dare, Chelsea!” I nearly screeched. “I’ll get even with you.”

  “It might be worth it,” Chelsea mused. “I’d better go talk to Sebastian. I’ll call you later.”

  On those words, she ended the call. I was reasonably sure Chelsea wouldn’t say anything too embarrassing since she wanted me to start dating. My friend enjoyed embarrassing me, mostly because I’d embarrassed her many times. Thankfully, my friends had more limits in that area than I did.

  I needed to get some writing done, but I decided to message Brook first. If she heard about Sebastian from Chelsea, I’d just end up having another friend call me a sneaky bitch.

  ME: I met a guy today.

  I gave her a minute—fine, thirty seconds to respond before texting her again.

  ME: This is really juicy news. You have to text me back.

  As I waited for Brook to message me back, the cake was calling me. I knew I should make dinner since I’d already had cake once that day. It would be smart to save this slice for tomorrow. The argument that cake wouldn’t taste nearly as good the next day could easily be made. Cake was always best when it was fresh. Looking at my silent phone, I decided to ask Brook. She could always respond to me when she got around to answering my other texts.

  ME: Do you think I should have cake for dinner? I already had a piece earlier, but it was really good. Didn’t I read somewhere that chocolate is a vegetable?

  No text from Brook, so I decided to eat my cake. It was even better than the cinnamon cake. There was plenty of moaning, and when I was done, I let out a sad sigh. There was no more cake. It was probably for the best since I’d gain at least a hundred pounds if I had an unlimited supply of cake. There are those who would argue that I’d eventually get tired of cake, but they’re insane. I could never tire of good cake.

  Looking down at my annoyingly silent phone, I began to wonder if I’d somehow lost service since talking to Chelsea. I checked and my messages said they were delivered. There was only one way to figure out if Brook was intentionally ignoring me. If she didn’t respond to my next text, then her phone wasn’t with her or she was too busy to look at her messages.

  ME: The guy I met put his tongue in my mouth. You’ll have to call Chelsea for details. I’m getting ready to start writing.

  If she got the message right away, she’d call or message me back. If not, it was safe to assume she wasn’t ignoring me. Sitting down at my desk, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to concentrate with thoughts of Sebastian distracting me. As it turned out, I was wrong. It seemed that being worked up over Sebastian made it much easier for me to write about my main character’s sexual tension.

  My fingers flew across the keyboard until my eyes were drooping and I finally decided to call it quits. That wasn’t easy when I felt inspired, but writing while exhausted was a lot like writing drunk. It all seemed brilliant until I started working on edits.

  Reluctantly, I shut down my computer. I looked down at my phone and noticed I had messages from Brook and Sebastian. My stomach did a little flip when I saw his name on my phone. Since I’d been the one to message Brook, I should open her message first. Still, my finger hovered over the string with Sebastian’s name on it, and that is where my finger landed.

  SEBASTIAN: I just left Luke and Chelsea’s house. Were you as shocked as I was to find out we already had a connection?

  SEBASTIAN: I guess we would have been fixed up on a date at some point.

  SEBASTIAN: I’m looking at your website. I asked Chelsea your last name so I could look up your books. The picture of you on your website is nice, but you’re even hotter in person.

  SEBASTIAN: Did that sound weird, like I’m stalking you? It’s just really cool that you write books, and I wanted to learn more about you.

  I nearly laughed at the number of texts he’d sent. It was nice to know I wasn’t the only one who had a hard time waiting for people to respond to me. Deciding Brook could wait, I messaged Sebastian back.

  Chapter Eight

  Sebastian

  I felt like an idiot for texting Delaney four times. Patience has never been my strong suit, and texting always made me antsy. I really wanted to know if me being Luke’s friend would make things awkward for her. It seemed unlikely since Delaney didn’t strike me as the type who worried too much about what others thought, but I’d only known her a few hours.

  When my phone finally buzzed, it was almost midnight.

  DELANEY: Are you still awake?

  ME: Sure am. I was worried you weren’t going to message me back.

  DELANEY: Sorry. I was writing and didn’t hear my phone.

  ME: Did you get a lot of writing done?

  DELANEY: I did. How was your visit with Luke?

  ME: Good. It’s been years since we’ve hung out, but we still get along great.

  DELANEY: Why haven’t you seen him in so long? He’s been back in this area for months.

  ME: I was living up in Portland until recently. Since I got back, I’ve been really busy with work. Are we just going to continue to text back and forth with this small talk?

  DELANEY: It’s been unseasonably warm for March, don’t you think?

  I chuckled at her smartass comment on the weather and decided to just give in to the temptation to call her.

  “Hello,” Delaney’s slightly raspy voice with the soft drawl was hot as fuck in person, but it was ten times hotter over the phone. That voice had me imagining her soft moans as she begged me to let her come. I wouldn’t. I’d keep Delaney at the edge until she gave me everything I wanted.

  Biting back a groan, I tried to have a conversation that didn’t make me sound like a complete pervert. “Hey there,” I greeted her. “Has anyone ever told you how good you sound over the phone?”

  “Is this where you try to get me to talk dirty to you?” she asked.

  “That is definitely something I’d like to experience,” I assured her. “For now, I just want to make sure you’re okay with my connection to Luke.”

  “It did come as a surprise,” she remarked. “What are the odds of something like this happening?”

  “Pretty slim,” I admitted. “Did you know they wanted to set us up on a blind date?”

  “Chelsea mentioned the idea while we were out today,” she replied.

  “I guess she’s pretty good at this matchmaking thing,” I added.

  Delaney snorted. “Try not to get too excited about Chelsea’s matchmaking skills. She wants me to date so badly, she’d fix me up with any single guy. Crap. That came out sounding really bad. I like you, and I’m glad we met. I just meant Chelsea didn’t even know you, so she had no way of knowing we’d be a good match.”

  “Good point,” I agreed. “I gotta ask you something important.”

  “What’s that?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Do you
consider tomorrow our second date?”

  “Why would I consider it our second date?” she asked. “And why does it matter which date it is? You aren’t one of those guys with a three date rule?”

  “Three date rule?” I asked. “That’s a ridiculous concept. Why would I think the third date means I’m getting laid?”

  “I’m glad you aren’t that type of guy,” she told me. “It’s really annoying when people think the third date is some marker for when sex is okay, as if three is the magical sex number. If that were the case, people would only have threesomes.”

  I let out startled bark of laughter. Delaney’s thought process was definitely entertaining. “I’ve never thought of three as a magic number when it comes to sex. It’s all about two for me. I was asking if tomorrow is our second date because I think we should have sex on our second date.”

  Delaney didn’t miss a beat. “I think this phone conversation is our second date, so please feel free to start any time you’re ready.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” I stated, fighting to contain my laughter. “Does this mean you aren’t going to offer to help me out?”

  “Are you asking me if I’ll pet your pocket python?” she asked.

  “My pocket python? Did you just call my dick a pocket python?” I’d never heard that one before. It wasn’t a bad nickname.

  “Did you have a special name for your below the belt boa?” she asked.

  “All men have names for their dicks,” I told her.

  “What’s yours?” she asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

  “I’ll tell you another time,” I replied.

  “Why can’t you tell me now?” she pushed.

  “What do I get if I reveal my dick’s name?” I asked, my voice slightly rough in anticipation of her offering something sexual.

  “You can have some of the cake I brought home,” she offered.

  “We both know you already ate that cake,” I told her. “I’d be surprised if it lasted five minutes after you got home.”

  “Fine, I ate it,” she confessed.

  “Lying is a very bad thing,” I scolded in a firm tone. “What do you think I should do with you?”

  Delaney sucked in a sharp breath. “What exactly do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean,” I continued, hoping I wouldn’t scare her off with the suggestion of this kind of play. I wasn’t into the BDSM scene, but I definitely liked being in charge in bed and considered myself dominant. This was the type of play I enjoyed, and this seemed like a safe way to test the waters and see how Delaney felt about it. “Don’t you think a little funishment is in order the next time I see you?”

  “What is a funishment?” Delaney asked, sounding intrigued.

  “It’s like role-playing,” I explained. “I pretend to punish you, but it’s enjoyable for both of us.”

  Delaney was quiet for a minute.

  “If you’re not okay with that, it’s fine,” I assured her.

  “I like the sound of it,” she admitted softly. “This is just a very strange conversation to be having the day I met you.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “I feel really comfortable around you, and that’s why I’m saying things like this so soon. If you want me to slow down, let me know. I don’t want to make you feel uneasy around me. You just need to tell me your limits.”

  “Am I going to need a safeword?” she asked with a nervous laugh.

  “Not yet,” I replied honestly.

  Chapter Nine

  Delaney

  Not yet? When I’d asked about needing a safeword, Sebastian had honestly told me I didn’t need one yet—implying I would at some point. With my limited and very vanilla sexual past, I had no experience with anything that could require the use of a safeword. I’d certainly fantasized about activities where a safeword might be needed, but I’d never expected those fantasies to become a reality.

  “Are you still there, Delaney?” Sebastian asked hesitantly.

  “Uh huh. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about safewords tonight,” I suggested.

  Sebastian cursed softly before continuing. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up. I made you uncomfortable.”

  Uncomfortable? He was definitely making me uncomfortable, but I was certain he thought it was a different type or discomfort. “It’s not that,” I began.

  “We don’t have to do anything like that,” he added.

  “I’m just hoping to avoid having this turn into phone sex,” I confessed.

  My admission was greeted with silence.

  “Sebastian?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he replied in a hoarse voice.

  “I thought maybe we’d lost signal,” I told him.

  “No, my mind just traveled down a path where you talk dirty to me on the phone,” he admitted.

  It was my turn to lapse into silence as I struggled to avoid suggesting we both get naked.

  “Delaney?” he asked.

  “I’m still here,” I told him. “We should probably change the subject.”

  “Just one more question,” he pushed.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “One more and then no more sex talk.”

  “Do you like the idea of role-playing?” he asked.

  I laughed. “If I answer that question, we’ll end up in the position we’re trying to avoid.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “You do like it.”

  “I’m not answering that question,” I insisted.

  “Sweet dreams, Delaney,” he murmured. “I hope you dream about all the wicked things I want to do to your body.”

  A moan slipped past my lips, despite my best efforts to hold it back. “Goodnight, Sebastian. Dream of all those things yourself.”

  “I will,” he assured me before ending the call.

  Looking down at my message string, I decided Brook would have to wait. After my conversation with Sebastian, I needed to venture into the drawer filled with abandoned buzzing boyfriends and see if I could find a little relief.

  Chapter Ten

  Delaney

  Sebastian was picking me up in fifteen minutes, and I was nowhere near ready. I’d decided to work on edits until the last minute so I wouldn’t have time to think about my date. My nerves would be shot if I had too much time to worry about all the things that could go wrong. The flaw in my plan came when I answered my phone without looking to see who was calling. I’d just finished editing a particularly steamy chapter, and I was about to rush through my pre-date preparations. I figured it had to be Chelsea or Brook calling to talk to me about my date with Sebastian. They’d be okay with me telling them I didn’t have time to talk.

  Twenty minutes later, I was still trying to convince, Elsa Mae Fontaine, my ex-husband’s mother, to let me off the phone.

  “Cody just hasn’t been able to find the right girl,” Elsa Mae lamented with a sad sigh.

  I love Elsa Mae. She’s always been good to me. When I’d been married to Cody, Elsa Mae had insisted on weekly lunch dates and dinners at her house. Now, she called me a few times a month. If I’d stayed in my hometown in Texas, I imagine she’d still make weekly plans with me. My ex-husband would likely be at all those events. There were many good reasons for me to live in California. Elsa Mae wasn’t willing to admit that her son had any faults, but she didn’t blame me for the divorce either. Cody’s parents had made sure I was given enough money from his trust fund to start over without too many worries. Cody’s parents were great.

  “I’m sure he’ll find someone,” I assured Elsa Mae.

  “It’ll be hard for him to find someone to compare to you, Laney,” she lamented. “You were the best thing to ever happen to my boy. He still misses you. He’s grown up a lot since you left town.”

  “I’m sure he has,” I agreed.

  “Why don’t you come back for a visit,” she suggested excitedly. “Your parents would love to see you, and so would Cody. He’s mentioned you a lot lately. I think that’s the biggest reason he can’t commit to
any of these women he dates. He realizes he had the right woman and lost her.”

  I doubted that, but Elsa Mae hadn’t given up hope we’d reconcile. Pigs would fly first, but I’d never tell her that. “I really do wish Cody all the best, but I’m happy with my life. I was just about to get ready for a date when you called.”

  I’d mentioned this three other times already.

  “He can’t make you happy like Cody did,” she argued. “You two were so in love. It was romantic how you couldn’t wait for graduation to marry.”

  “I really do need to go,” I insisted, refusing to get caught up in a conversation about getting back together with Cody. Elsa Mae had rewritten the history of my marriage. There had been nothing romantic about it, and I had no interest in revisiting that time in my life.

  “Of course,” she agreed. “I almost forgot to tell you, I just finished your latest book. Lordy that was a hot one. You sure know how to write the naughty bits.”

  I grinned at the image of Elsa Mae reading my books. She’d had Cody late in life, at nearly fifty, so she was nearing eighty and still a spitfire. While many people in my hometown disapproved of my career choice, Elsa Mae was proud of me.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I told her.

  “I’ll let you get ready for your date, but please think about what I said,” she urged. “Cody has matured an awful lot these last few years. You should give your love a chance. There’s a reason you’ve both been single since your divorce.”

  I resisted the urge to tell her the reason we were both still single was Cody hated commitment, and I’d been afraid of getting involved with anyone for fear of ending up with another man like her son. Since I liked Elsa Mae, I kept that to myself.

  “I’ll think about it,” I lied.

  “I love you, sweetie pie,” she said before making a kissing sound.

  “Love you, too,” I replied before ending the call.