Blue Balls Read online

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. Your dry panties say it all.”

  Whirling around on Clint, I poke a finger at his chest, hissing quietly. “You’d better stop now, or I’ll file a complaint.”

  He merely wiggles his eyebrows, pulls out his cell phone, and backs away with a gleeful grin. “As if anyone would believe that I, Nurse of the Month, could be anything other than charming.” There’s a millisecond pause. “Plus, I’m on break right now, so I figure I’ll head over to the cafeteria and text my new BFF the news about someone’s horribly dry undergarments.”

  “Cli—”

  “Later, Sunshine.” He strolls away, leaving me glaring at his back.

  * * *

  “What’s the deal with you and Jack?”

  Pushing the door to the dishwasher closed, I press the start button and lean back against the kitchen counter. “No deal, really.” I shrug. “I mean, I’m convinced the universe is against us. But it’s also no secret that I think he’s so hot someone could drown in my panties when he’s nearby.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes going wide. “Whoa. O-kay, then.”

  “I heard the word panties, so count me in.” Ry strolls into the kitchen with a wide smile. He slings an arm around Maggie’s shoulders and whispers something that makes her cheeks flush before dropping a quick kiss to her temple.

  “Ugh.” I wave a hand at them as if shooing them away. “Couples in love.”

  In truth, I adore them and the fact they’re deliriously in love thrills me. Is it slightly nauseating how perfect they are for one another? Yes. Does it also make me throw up a bit in my mouth at their little, obviously naughty, whispers? Double yes. But I deal because that’s what best friends do.

  Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, Ry turns and eyes me curiously as he uncaps it. “So what’s this about panties?” He smirks and takes a swig of water.

  Maggie turns to him. “Sarah mentioned something about how Jack’s so hot someone could drown in her panties.”

  Ry sprays water everywhere, practically showering poor Maggie. Sent into a coughing fit of laughter, he covers his mouth, attempting to regain control of himself. I grab a dishtowel and toss it to Maggie so she can mop up the mess.

  “I don’t think it warranted a reaction like that,” I remark to Ry.

  Maggie tosses the towel back onto the counter and announces she’s going to change her shirt.

  “Sorry, Mags,” Ry calls out as she disappears down the hallway. Turning his attention back to me, he shakes his head with a smirk. “Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. Still keeping me on my toes, I see.”

  I shrug and offer a smug smile. “You asked.”

  He glances down the hall and then back at me. “You and Jack are back on better terms, I take it? I mean, especially if you’re talking about”—he falters for a moment, and I can’t help but find his discomfort amusing—“panties and, uh, drowning.”

  “Kind of.” I shrug again. “Aside from the crazy incidents that seem to always happen when we’re together.”

  Sobering, Ry falls silent for a moment and tosses another glance down the hall where Maggie retreated. Returning his attention to me, he waves me closer before lowering his voice. If I didn’t know any better, I’d be concerned. Except his eyes are sparkling with mischief, so I know he’s up to no good.

  “While she’s back there,” he says softly, “tell me this.” One eyebrow raises slightly. “Has Mags ever mentioned me inducing her ‘panty-drowning’ effect?”

  Schooling my expression, I shake my head with faux sadness. “Dry as the Sahara, Ry,” I answer, releasing a long, mournful sigh to add more emphasis.

  He stares at me for a moment, eyes studying me, and I do my best to maintain a straight face.

  Finally, his lips curve into a wide grin, and he hooks an arm around my shoulder, holding me in a headlock. Pulling me in close, he uses his other hand to give me noogies, ruffling my hair as though I’m a small child.

  “Ry!”

  “You lie!” I can hear the laughter in his voice while I struggle to break free from his hold. “Admit it! Admit to the panty drowning!”

  “Fine!” I toss back, continuing to struggle. “Always! She always says that!”

  Instantly, I’m released and blow out a huff of breath. Attempting to smooth down my hair, I toss a hard glare at Ry. Before I can scold him, we hear Maggie mutter, “I really don’t think that warranted a headlock, Ry.” She’s standing with her arms crossed, watching us with barely banked amusement.

  “Ah, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, Mags.” Ry tugs her close and skims his lips over her forehead before leaning back to flash a cocky smile. “Especially when it comes to panty drowning.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Sarah

  I’m sitting in our favorite Thai restaurant with Maggie, Ry, and Jack, who arrived late because of a work meeting.

  To say that Jack looks utterly delectable in his charcoal suit would be a vast understatement. This man can irrevocably wear the hell out of a suit. I can’t lie and say I’m not fantasizing about crawling onto his lap and ridding him of those layers of tailored fabric.

  Instead, I lean over and say in a hushed voice, so as not to let our friends overhear, “I was thinking… Maybe after we finish up with dinner, we can go have some fun. Downtown.”

  Yep. I said it. Downtown. I’m shamelessly implying that we can have some “oral” fun later.

  Jack stares back at me with an odd look. “I don’t really feel like going there, Sarah.” He focuses on stabbing at a piece of shrimp in his pad thai. “It’s actually pretty gross.”

  I’m sorry, what? Since when does he find going down there so unappealing?

  “I don’t get it. You seemed like you’d be all for it, judging from past”—I dart a glance at our friends who are now tuned in and glued to my and Jack’s conversation—“experiences.”

  While I practically disclose everything to my best friend, I’m not sure I want Ry to overhear this conversation. But I don’t really get a say in the matter because Jack speaks loud enough for Maggie and Ry to hear.

  His expression turns a bit queasy. “It’s just…sticky.” He shudders. “Disgusting.”

  What the hell is he talking about? Sticky? Disgusting?

  He goes on. “I mean, not only is it sticky but it’s also a compact, crowded space.”

  My lips part, gaping at him slightly. “A compact, crowded space?” I repeat, absolutely appalled.

  Jack keeps going. “I honestly don’t feel comfortable down there.” Forking a piece of shrimp into his mouth, he chews and swallows. “Unless I’ve had a few drinks to numb my senses a bit and not make it so…”

  Vaguely, I register the sound of choked laughter coming from Maggie and Ry. But I don’t acknowledge it because it seems I’ve got bigger issues here.

  Not to mention, I’m still stuck on the whole “sticky” complaint. No pun intended.

  “Then there’s the smell,” Jack adds, his face scrunching in distaste. “I mean, you can tell that cleaning might’ve taken place, but the smell seems to linger. And it’s a putrid smell. Like rotten tacos or something.”

  Aghast, I stare at him. “WHAT?” My head snaps over to Maggie and Ry, thinking at least my best friend would jump in and defend me. Nope. She and Ry are leaning against one another, shoulders shaking, heads bowed as if they’re attempting to hide their facial expressions.

  Snapping back, I focus on Jack, and my eyes narrow dangerously. “I beg your pardon! It does not smell like rotten tacos!”

  “Look, Sarah,” Jack says with a sigh. “I get that it might sound like fun to you, but it’s not for me. Not at all. I mean”—his features brighten slightly as if thoughtful—“maybe if there were a way to give it a makeover and a deep cleaning or something. Really get in there and scrub it down thoroughly. Get that smell and all the dust out of there.”

  I can’t.

  I. Just. CAN’T
.

  “It’s…” He furrows his brow. “It’s hard to get past the appearance of it.”

  My eyebrows shoot up, nearly hitting my hairline. “The appearance?”

  “Yeah. I mean, someone needs to work on the exterior and make it more welcoming. It’s pretty drab looking as it is.”

  Drab looking? “Are you serious, right now, Westbrook?” I’m pissed. No two ways about it.

  “Look,” Jack replies calmly, “I get that you and Maggie might enjoy it, but it doesn’t do anything for me or Ry.”

  Before I can manage to utter a response, Ry interrupts, holding up his hands. “Whoa, whoa. Hold up for a second.” He looks like he’s attempting to hold back a smile. “I think there’s a chance you’re both talking about two entirely different things.”

  Jack and I stare at Ry before we turn back to one another and he frowns, confusion lining his features. “You weren’t talking about the old bar, Downtown?”

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  He’s been talking about the bar a few blocks away which operates under the generic name of Downtown.

  A bar. A freaking bar. Not my vagina.

  My lips press together in a thin line, embarrassment rushing to the forefront of my emotions. “Uh, not exactly,” I reply slowly.

  He stares at me for a beat before his face transforms into a near-blinding smile, laughter booming.

  “Oh, Sunshine…” He laughs, shaking his head. Sliding an arm across the back of my chair, he leans in, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “You should know I’m always game for that kind of downtown.” His lips dust against my earlobe, eliciting a slight shiver, and goose bumps rise on my skin. “And I’ll be sure not to eat anything spicy with extra wasabi beforehand, too.”

  It takes a moment for my brain to register his words; to break through the fog of Jack’s deep, husky voice and the seductive quality practically holding me in rapture.

  But when his words finally sink in, my eyes snap up to lock with his laughing ones. His wide smile makes it impossible to hold my stern expression, and I shake my head at him.

  “Play nice, Westbrook,” I admonish and nudge him playfully with my elbow.

  In return, he merely tugs me closer. Pressing a soft kiss to my temple, he whispers, “I always play nice with my Sunshine.”

  The four of us return to our dinner, and the laughter, good-natured teasing, and storytelling are as entertaining as ever. Yet I’m slightly distracted by Jack’s whispered words. Or, more importantly, two of them.

  He’d said, “I always play nice with my Sunshine.”

  My Sunshine.

  I’d be lying if I said those two words, in particular, didn’t make an infinitesimal part of me yearn for that to be true.

  For me to actually be Jack’s Sunshine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jack

  “You’re not upset that we’re not hanging out Downtown?” I wink at Sarah, who merely shakes her head with a laugh.

  She and I decided to head over to Max Londons after we finished dinner with Maggie and Ry. We’ve been sitting at the bar of the crowded restaurant, chatting and people watching. She’s sipping a glass of their house special, a white wine sangria, while I enjoy a Saratoga lager.

  I nudge her shoulder playfully. “You should have known better.” Leaning close, I bring my lips close to her ear to ensure she hears me over the bustling noise of the restaurant. “I love everything about you.” I pause briefly, my voice growing a bit hoarse at the mere thought of her body beneath mine. “Especially tasting you.”

  Drawing back, she turns slightly, her blue eyes hazy with lust. “You’re dangerous.”

  “How so?”

  The tip of her tongue darts out to wet her lips before she leans in closer. “You make me want to do things that could get me in trouble.” She runs a palm over my thigh, and it seems innocent enough but then she grazes over my cock before retreating.

  Instantly hardening, that brief graze makes me ache for more of her touch. “Sunshine.” I shake my head, my gaze locked with hers. “You’re playing with fire.”

  With a wicked smile, she reaches into her purse for what I’ve come to think of as one of “her” chocolates. Unwrapping it, she reads the small message on the inside of the wrapper before taking a tiny bite. Just as she’s about to put the remaining chocolate back in the foil wrapper, I lay my hand on her thigh, my fingers slipping beneath the hem of her skirt to stroke her inner thigh.

  “You’re not going to offer me any?”

  Her eyes dart to mine, hesitating a moment before she lifts the chocolate to my lips. I wrap my lips around her fingers, the tip of my tongue touching a fingertip. Her lips part, pupils dilating slightly, and her breathing quickens. I can’t restrain the satisfied look that spreads across my face.

  Dipping my head, I dust a soft kiss on her lips, murmuring against them, “Feel like heading back to my pla—”

  “Yes.” Her immediate response sends anticipation strumming through me. But it’s the way her hand easily—readily—slips into mine when I offer to help her down from the barstool that resonates. A flood of possessiveness rushes through me as we exit the restaurant, hand in hand, and all I hear in my head is the echo of one word.

  Mine.

  * * *

  “You have too many clothes on.”

  Sarah’s whispered complaint makes my lips curve upward. She frantically tugs at the buttons on my shirt as we make our way to my bedroom. She’d stripped me of my suit jacket the instant we were inside my apartment.

  “Same goes for you.” My hands slip around to the back of her skirt, finding the small zipper and drawing it down until the fabric drops, pooling at her feet.

  It doesn’t matter how many times I see this woman undressed. The sight of her still manages to rob me of my breath. Gently gripping her waist, I brush my thumbs against the tiny waistband of her panties.

  “Off.” Sarah tugs at my shirt, and I slip it off each arm while she directs her attention to my belt, tugging at it as if she’s being timed and has to unfasten it in thirty seconds or less.

  “Sunshine.” My tone is laced with amusement, and her eyes flick up to mine in question. “There’s no rush here.”

  “Wrong.” Her response is immediate, and I can’t resist the small laugh it elicits. “I’m in a serious rush, Jack.” Those blue eyes appear to darken further with lust, and she worries the bottom edge of her lip before her voice turns husky. “If you feel me, you’ll understand why I’m in such a rush.”

  Fuck me. This woman… Never have I been with someone so confident, so unafraid of expressing herself and her desires.

  Slipping her panties down over her hips, she shimmies out of them while simultaneously loosening my pants and shoving them down along with my boxer briefs. Without any hesitation, my hand dips between her thighs and two of my fingers easily slip inside her wetness.

  Her soft gasp drifts over me, and I watch as her eyes flutter closed, her hips canting slightly.

  My head descends, bringing my lips to brush against hers with each whispered word. “You’re so wet, Sunshine. For me?”

  “Yes,” she whispers hoarsely.

  “Open your eyes,” I command, backing away slightly. My gaze briefly flickers down to where I drag my fingers out of her, finding her eyes locked onto the view of my fingers just as I plunge them back inside her. Her heavy-lidded eyes watch, transfixed, as my fingers continue their ministrations, coated in her arousal. I jerk at the feel of her soft palm wrapping around my thick cock and feel myself harden further at her touch.

  “You’re coating my fingers.” Moisture gathers at my tip as she begins to stroke my length while I simultaneously thrust in and out of her. Frantic, I grasp the hem of her loose-fitting blouse and lift it over her head. Releasing me briefly to pull her arms from it, she hurriedly rids herself of her bra before taking my cock in her hand once again.

  “Sunshine.” My voice sounds ragged and harsh to my
own ears. “Not sure how much more I can take.”

  When she relinquishes her grasp, moving to lie back on my bed, her smile is wicked. “Then you’d better do something about it.”

  Reaching for a condom, I tear open the packet with more urgency than I think I’ve ever felt before and slide it on. Moving to join her on the bed, I brace myself on my forearms above her as my tip presses against her entrance.

  Softly pressing a kiss to her lips, I whisper, “You’re beautiful.” Inching inside her, our combined moans sound in the silence of the room. Continuing to press deeper, I’m nearly buried to the hilt, only a little farther…

  BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!

  Both of us jerk with a start at the blaring sound of the fire alarm. Rolling off her quickly, I hand her clothes to her and attempt to pull on my own as fast as possible. Once we’re dressed, I take her hand, and we rush down the stairs to exit the building.

  We huddle together with the other tenants standing near the street curb, curiously discussing what might have happened as there was no sign of a fire nor billowing smoke.

  * * *

  We finally learned that one of the tenant’s preteens pulled the fire alarm “on a dare.” Once the fire department secured the building, they’d allowed us back inside.

  “Jack Westbrook,” Sarah murmurs as she prepares to leave my apartment. “I feel like your penis and my vagina are determined to maintain a standoff with one another. As in no mutual orgasms.” Her smile is halfhearted at best. “Like a royal decree has been declared.” She deepens her voice dramatically. “Your penis and my vagina. Never shall the two climax together.”

  “It’ll happen, Sunshine.” I brush my lips against hers before deepening the kiss, my tongue twining with hers.

  I know she has an early shift tomorrow, which is why she has to leave now, but I can’t help it. I have to taste her one final time. Her Uber will be here soon, and I don’t want her to miss it. I just need another taste…

  She backs away slightly, ducking her head to press a soft kiss to the base of my throat. “I have to go.”