Flame - Erin Noelle Page 0,2
with me out of the same area code?”
Snickering, he releases me and rests his hands on his hips, one edge of his mouth still hiked up in a smirk. “Honey, I still lose sleep over you, especially when you’re not here, but it’s only because I love you and I worry.”
“We both do,” Mel says from behind me, tenderly resting her hand on my shoulder. “No matter how old you are, we’ll always worry.”
Nodding, I can’t blame them for their concern. Between the ages of fifteen and twenty, I did a lot of searching to find out who I was as an individual, trying to find what made me happy. And more often than not, I found that Happy Dakota was at a party with a beer in one hand and a bong in the other, footloose and fancy-free . . . and more often than not, ending my nights panty-free as well.
“I know you guys do, and I appreciate it, now more than ever.” I offer them both a grateful smile. “One day before I go back, I want to sit down with y’all. You too, Grams,” I add, careful not to leave her out of family discussions, “and talk to you about my future plans and how things are going at school. I’ve got some ideas.”
Mel and Doug exchange an inquisitive look, then quickly refocus their attention on me. “Sounds interesting. Just let us know when you want to talk.” Doug nods his agreement before cringing at the sound of something crashing to the floor in the upstairs game room. Something that sounded breakable. “Preferably after he’s in bed though,” he huffs, racing for the stairs.
After I excuse myself to my old room to get freshened up for dinner—the room I’ll be sharing with Hudson during my three-week break—the cell phone in my back pocket vibrates with a text message.
Rory: You gonna be at Crew’s dinner 2nite?
Smiling smugly to myself, a low hum begins to pulse through my body at the thought of hooking up tonight. I’ve spent way too much time studying and working double shifts over the past couple of months, and, unfortunately, my sex life has paid the price. Though my forefinger and thumb can bring me to climax in a matter of minutes, it’s not even close to the real deal. And Rory Tanner is the real fucking deal in bed.
Me: Getting ready now, but we’ll have to go back to your place cuz I’m staying with my parents this time. I don’t have any condoms with me either.
I love how I don’t have to pretend with Rory. There’s never a need to tiptoe around the fact we both want to screw each other’s brains out until our shaky legs collapse, then go our separate ways without a need to say goodbye or ask when we’ll see each other again. Our relationship is what it is, and we both accept it as that.
Despite many guys’ claim to want a strictly physical relationship with a chick, I’ve learned the hard way that most are unable to keep it that simple. Usually, after the third or fourth time of playing hide the salami, they start pulling that overbearing, possessive bullshit, like they’ve earned some sort of right to know where I’m going or who I’m with. Uh . . . no. I answer to no one, especially not some insecure dillhole who’s afraid I’ll find another stick of meat that I prefer to play with over his.
In the half a year or so that Rory and I’ve been hooking up, never once has he asked me a single thing about my life outside the sheets we lay twisted in. Of course, now that we live in different cities, it helps keep a buffer between us. On numerous occasions since I’ve moved to the ’burbs of Denver, either he or I have made the trip to see one another, each encounter a feverish frenzy of ripped clothes and entangled body parts. Words are rarely necessary.
Rory: Cool, but Hudson and Crew will be in his room. You’ll get to hear your sister pray to the god of the orgasms. It’s like a church service every time she spends the night.
Ewwww. I’m thrilled that my younger sister has finally found the magical powers of her vagina and all, but I don’t want to experience it with her, even if it is from another room. Privacy is one of the best things I’ve discovered since moving out on my own.