Page 58 of Jonesing for a Spy

“You just seem nice to me, and I think someone like my mom would eat you alive.”

Ouch. Actually, double ouch.

“Nice? Did I come off too nice when I drilled you into the mattress on Sunday morning?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then explain.” I shift on my sofa to lie flat.

Mirren makes a noise in the back of her throat similar to a hum. “My mom is… a lot. And I think you’d be taken advantage of if you ended up with someone like her.”

“What if I want to end up with someone like you? What if I like that you know yourself? And that you don’t hold back. Would you eat me alive?” I adjust my cock in my sweats since the thought of her eating me has made me throb with need.

Silence on the other end is met with a huge inhale and a cough.

“Freckles, are you okay?”

She sputters for a few more seconds. Before she can speak, I continue, “Seems you were choking when I saw you at Davie’s too. Something about olives…”

“The olives, sure. Not the”—she coughs again, and the moment stretches—“Right. Not the man I tumbled into barely holding up a towel days before walking through the door with my brother.”

“Shocked the shit out of me too. There you were, straight out of my dreams, and Charlie’s sister.” Shit, that sounds bad.

Her laugh is rich and full. “Yeah. Charlie’s sister. Ew.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Well, I’ll make it plain. Charlie’s sister or not, I want you. I like you. I’d like to explore something with you, though I have no idea how since I’m in the frigid midwest and you’re in the deep south. But I’m willing to try with you. If you are.”

Rustling meets my ears, followed by a quick inhale of breath. “I— I don’t know how to do an adult relationship. I’ve never had one.”

“Do you want to try with me?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is sweet and innocent, even if the woman behind it is anything but.

“And never?”

“The Army doesn’t have a course in being a good partner. And it doesn’t foster relationships outside of ‘I have your back and would kill for you,’ you know?”

I don’t. I truly don’t.

“Same with the Rangers. And since then? Well, I know all the stories from the boys within a thirty-mile radius. Brothers, remember? So no one’s been worth the time or attention.”

Boys. She said boys.

“I’ll have to thank your brothers for cock blocking for me. Or is it beaver damming?”

That gets me a laugh. My insides warm.

“If you’re older, I guess. We say clam jam.”

I scrub a hand down my face and ask a question I dread. “So is me being older a turn-on or a turn-off for you?”

25

in the clink