Page 19 of Right Man, Right Time
“Pickle?” Ross asks.
I smile at him and grab the clean sheets from my closet. “I have you so well trained.”
I lift the sheet in the air and let it float down to the bed.
“You realize I can see the underside of your breasts, right?” Ross asks.
“Can you? Huh.” I shrug. “Do anything for you?”
“Not really.”
“Shame. I have great tits,” I say with a smirk.
“Hence what you’re wearing. You like to show them off.”
“No, I don’t like to show them off. I just like to be comfortable, and this shirt is comfortable.”
“Are you going to change before your hockey friend gets here?”
“And give me more laundry to do? I’m good, thanks.” I fit the sheet over my bed, then pick up the flat sheet. “So what are you up to today?”
“Are you really going to change the subject like that? Ollie, you realize you kissed a very popular hockey player last night, and he’s coming to your dorm today. Do you honestly have nothing to say about that?”
“Not really. I don’t know the guy or know of him. I’m grateful he kissed me back last night, and I feel bad for him. It seems like he’s going through a tough spot, so I thought I’d listen to what he has to say. Plus, he can possibly help me with my assignment. It’s all business.”
“That’s until you find yourself crushing on him.”
“Oh please,” I scoff while neatly making hospital corners on my bed. Nothing is more soothing than sleeping in a properly made bed. “I have better things to do than fall for some guy ten years older than me.”
“Ten years?” Ross asks. “Huh, I wouldn’t have guessed that. But you know what that means? Ten years older . . .”
“What?” I ask while placing my white comforter back on the bed.
“Experience.”
“So?”
“I mean . . . bedroom experience.”
I roll my eyes. “I knew what you meant.”
“You should be excited about that. After being with Yonny, who was subpar at best, this should give you some joy.”
“First of all, I have zero intention of sleeping with this man. If we do any kind of agreement, there will be nothing sexual about the interaction. All business. And second, who’s to say he’s even good at sex?”
“Did you see his forearms?” Ross asks. “They were all ripply and muscular. Trust me, he’s good in bed. I bet he has a piercing.”
“Oh my God, you’ve lost it.” I move around him.
“He has the tattoos and the scruffy hair. Broad shoulders. Wicked lips. Roguish eyes. There is no doubt he also has a pierced cock. And with the way you love giving head, could you imagine if there was a piercing on it?”
I do love giving head. I don’t know why. Something about the control of it all, but I’ve never given a guy a blow job who had a piercing. It might be fun.Wait, what am I thinking?No. That’s not something I’m going to imagine.
“Listen, Ross. I have too much going on to even consider a relationship at the moment. This whole fake dating thing might actually be good. We could use each other when needed without the pressure of having to . . . you know . . . be all couple-y. He needs help. I need help. With the holidays coming up and the stupid parties we’ll have to go to, it might be beneficial.”
“You’re serious,” Ross deadpans. “You’re actually thinking about doing this?”
“The more I do, the more I believe it might be a good idea. Although, I want to hear his proposal first of course. Milk this thing for all I can.”
