I could feel Luke’s gaze boring into me, so I turned to look at him. I held up my hand, stopping him as he opened his mouth to speak. “That was Douche Bag Brad, my ex. I don’t know why he’s calling me now, he hasn’t changed, and I want nothing to do with him.”
“So what exactly was he saying to you?” Luke asked, his voice quietly menacing.
“Well, I guess he wanted me to come bring him beer, and be a good little woman like he always expected me to be. And then he told me he’d fuck me if I was a good girl,” I told him, my voice flat.
Luke’s eyes flashed and his lips tightened even more before he asked, “Was he always like that with you? Do as your told? Be a good girl? And are you serious about him calling you frigid?” His voice rose in disbelief. “You are the furthest thing from frigid!”
I shrugged and nodded my head at him.
“Why did you stay with him then? You’re so much better than that, sugar.”
“He was good to me at first. We met when I was in college, he took me out on the most romantic date I’d ever been on, treated me like I was really special. I didn’t realize that he was just reeling me in until it was too late; I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. Things were good for a while, then he turned into some archaic caveman who wandered around thumping his chest, grunting ‘me he-man, you my bitch’ to me all the time.” I shrugged my shoulders again, shaking my head at my own stupidity.
“God, what a douche bag,” Luke muttered.
“Yeah, that’s why I call him Douche Bag Brad. He snapped his fingers at me and expected me to jump…literally. And then I came home one day and caught him in bed with the neighbor. And I’m sure you heard what he told me after that,” I replied. “It’s so weird that he called me out of the blue like that. I haven’t talked to him in a very long time, and I for damn sure don’t want anything to do with him! Okay?”
“Okay, Emma, but I’m telling you what. He, or anyone for that matter, talks to you like that again, I will hunt him down and hand him his balls personally.” Luke’s tone was menacing, his face hard.
In the silence that followed Luke’s statement, Jackson’s voice rang out, yelling, “Holy fuck, dog! That’s not yours! Get out, get the fuck out!”
Luke and I looked at each other and busted out laughing, the tension permeating the room dissolving immediately. We were still chuckling when Jackson emerged from the bathroom (bare-chested, barefoot, and jeans undone, oh my!) glaring at the lab trotting happily by his side. When he came into the living room, he moved his glare to Luke. “Your dog…” he growled, “there’s something wrong with him. I think he’s gay! I stepped out of the shower to dry off and he tried to lick my dick! He did lick my thigh, but what the fuck, man?”
Luke burst out laughing again. “He was trying to get the water droplets, you ass! He used to push the door to the bathroom open when he was a puppy and when I’d step out, he’d go crazy trying to lick the water off my feet and legs. He quit doing it, mainly because we learned to keep the doors tightly shut so he couldn’t get in, but you must not have latched the door!”
We were still laughing at him when Brandon walked in the door, balancing three large pizza boxes and a case of beer. I jumped up from the couch to help, tugging Luke’s shirt down my thighs so I didn’t give anyone a show.
A few minutes later, we all had platefuls of pizza and ice cold beer, and Brandon was putting a movie in. We argued over which one we were going to watch, and finally all agreed on No Strings Attached, which the guys all said was really funny, but I hadn’t seen it yet. Luke lounged in the corner of the couch and I sat beside him. Brandon took the overstuffed armchair, plopping his feet up on the coffee table, Doug jumped on the love seat and sprawled out, and Jackson was left with the remaining spot on the couch on the other side of me. He clearly wasn’t going to go anywhere near Doug to fight for a seat!
We ate, drank, and watched the movie, laughing at parts, but holy mother of hotness! There was a lot, and I mean a lot, of sex scenes!
About halfway through the movie, our empty plates were stacked on the table and we had worked our way through almost all the beer. I was leaned into Luke’s side, my feet curled up beside me on the couch. Brandon was stretched out in the chair still, and Jackson was lounging back in the opposite corner of the couch. My legs were starting to get stiff from sitting curled up and I began to stretch them out. I accidentally kicked Jackson’s thigh, glancing at him to apologize, but he just shrugged and grabbed both my feet, pulling them into his lap. My body twisted and my back ended up pressed against Luke, his arm still wrapped around my shoulders, and Jackson started rubbing my feet.
I tensed and began to pull my legs back, but Luke snuggled me closer to his chest, glanced over at Jackson, shrugged, and smiled down at me before turning back to the movie. It took a while, but I finally relaxed as Jackson’s hands worked magically over my feet and ankles, and Luke’s heat seeped into me as he lightly ran his fingertips up and down my arm. I closed my eyes, so warm and comfy, and must have dozed off.
I woke up a while later, not sure what time it was until I saw the digital clock on the cable box. It was almost three a.m. The tv had been turned off and the lights were all out, and in the faint glow of the clock, I could make out the empty chair where Brandon had been sitting. I stretched a bit before closing my eyes again, enjoying the warmth of Luke surrounding me. I was on my side, curled between Luke’s legs with my cheek resting against his chest as he half-reclined on the couch. My hand was pressed to his chest by my cheek and my other arm was wrapped around his waist behind his back against the arm of the couch.
My left leg was lying stretched out along Luke’s, and my right one was cocked up at an angle, my knee pressed just under Luke’s. His chest was warm along the length of my leg, and his head was a solid weight resting on my thigh, his breath warming the bare flesh between my thighs since my shirt had ridden up.
Oh, fuck! My eyes sprang open and I sat up, my elbow ramming dangerously low on Luke’s abdomen as I tried to untangle myself. Well, I hoped it was Luke’s stomach…ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. In the darkness, I felt arms come around me from behind, pulling me back against a hard, warm chest and holding me close again.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I heard Luke whisper in my ear, his voice sleepy, making it even deeper than usual.
I could feel myself breathing heavily, headed into panic mode. “Luke, there’s a head on my thigh by my…you know. And my shirt…your shirt…is not covering me anymore. Ohmigod, who’s laying on me, Luke?” My voice was rising and I started to struggle against Luke’s chest so I could move away from the unknown male between my thighs.
“Shhhh, baby. Its Jacks. Has to be because Brandon went to bed not long after you fell asleep on us. I guess I dozed off and apparently he fell asleep on you, too.” He yawned in my ear. “We’re kinda in his bed, you know. Want to go upstairs with me?”
“Yes, Luke, please. But…I’m a little stuck. His face is right there, and I’m afraid to move.” My panic was ebbing a little bit, soothed by Luke’s closeness and the fact that he was about to help me out of my predicament.