Page 33 of Wine & Dine

14

Rust on the heart

[Garrett]

Fuckity, fuck, fuck. Not him and not now. Holy…what the hell just happened?

“I…” Dolores’s voice falters as she stares at her phone. I use the moment to tuck myself back into my sweats. The day has been casual, and I’ve let myself go by staying comfortable the entire holiday. When she pouted at me about changing, it was so cute that I didn’t want to disappoint her by dressing in more formal attire. Remaining as we were, the holiday was more special than any stuffy dinner I’ve ever attended.

Then…then she gives me head like I’ve never had, and I want to devour her.

So why the fuck did he call? Why now?

“Are you still talking to him?” I snap as old insecurities fill my veins. Is she cheating on him with me?

“No,” she bellows. “No. I haven’t spoken to him since before I came here.”

“What does he want?” I ask, frustrated.

“I don’t know.” Her voice lowers, eyes still focused on the phone. “I should go.”

“What?” I snap. How can she leave? She just gave me the blow job of all blow jobs. I mean, what man doesn’t want to wake up to be taken by a sexy vixen looking up at him with lust-filled eyes and a salivating mouth ready to draw him deep? It can’t only be me. She just fulfilled a fantasy of mine, and now she wants to walk away.

“I think I should leave,” she repeats, uncurling her legs from my couch and standing. “I’ve had a wonderful day, Garrett. The best Thanksgiving ever.”

I don’t understand. What’s happening? She’s shutting down, and I get that, but I don’t want her to go. We were just getting started. We can skip Rusty. Fuck him. I’ll take her back on my couch with her head on my leg watching movies.

Just. Don’t. Leave.

“Fine,” I mutter instead, falling back on the cushions.

“It really was a great day,” she offers, trying to salvage what can’t be salvaged as she reaches for her phone.

“Uh-huh,” I murmur, scrubbing both hands down my face again. She steps around the couch and reaches down to pet Wally.

“Be a good boy, smelly Wally,” she purrs to him in the false tone she uses to insult him. He traitorously wags his tail, banging it on the tile floor. The slap, slap, slap sounds desperate. He doesn’t want her to leave either. I stand and round the couch, coming up behind her.

“Help me understand what happened here?” I’m almost begging her for an explanation. She stands upright and spins to face me.

“I just wanted to give you something special.” Her eyes lower as if she’s ashamed. I don’t want her to feel bad about what she’s done. I love what she did. I want more of what she did.

“Let me reciprocate,” I suggest, my lip curving at the corner although my smile can’t reach a full curl. She’s going to shoot me down. I can see it when her lids lift, and her blue eyes find mine. Without answering, she pats my chest.

“Thank you for everything.” Then she turns and lets herself out.

Fuck.

What the fuck?

+ + +

I work from home the next day, avoiding my family who called to make sure I was all right. I called them on my way to pick up food yesterday and explained how I missed my flight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” my mother asked.

“Yeah, Ma.” I’ve never been better, I thought as I rushed through the store picking up items to make the day as special as I could for Dolores.

I wanted to give you something special.