Page 87 of Proof Of Life
Stiles chokes. McCormick chokes. Thankfully I recover. I grab both of them by the shoulders and drag them down the hall, glancing over my shoulder to say, “Thanks, Betty. We’ll be in touch.”
“Wait,” McCormick hisses, “I was going to get her to sign something.”
“She doesn’t want to sign your fucking smelly underwear,” Stiles gripes.
“Don’t take it too hard,” Jax assures him, “you’ve still got half a chance with Carly.”
As we pile into the Jeep, I exchange looks with West, and we shake with silent laughter. Betty fucking Beasley. What are the odds?
“Good afternoon, Sgt. Aguilar,” Margaret Anne greets cheerfully. “I made your coffee just the way you like it, with lots of cream and no sugar,” she beams.
Returning the smile, I gratefully accept the steaming paper cup, inhaling the rich aroma as I take a tentative sip. “Have I told you yet today that you’re a doll?”
She blushes like a teenage girl in high school and shoos me away.
West follows me down the hall as we make our way to support group. I can hear him snickering behind me, and I roll my eyes.
“What?”
“Did I say anything?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
“She likes you.”
“Who? Margaret Anne?! She’s like…my grandma.” He’s fucking smoking crack.
“It’s not uncommon for older women to be attracted to younger men.”
My boots freeze on the polished concrete floor. “The fuck is wrong with you?” Raising the cup to my lips, I’m about to take a sip when I pause, suspicion making my stomach roll in waves. “I can’t fucking drink this now.” I shove the cup at West. “Here, are you happy now?”
Laughing, he takes a sip and makes a face before he chucks it in the nearest garbage can. “I think it’s sweet.”
“And I think you’re jealous because I’m her favorite and not you.” He laughs even louder and I feel ridiculous for letting him get to me. “You owe me a coffee,” I grumble bitterly.
He strides ahead of me, and I can’t help but notice his gait. I would never admit this to him, for fear that he would punch my teeth in, but the way he walks with his prosthetic on makes his ass sway deliciously. I rush him from behind, taking him by surprise, and push him through the bathroom door off to the left of the hall. He loses his balance and clutches me for support.
“What the fuck? If you have to pee that bad, just say so.”
He thinks I have to pee? That’s definitely not the function my cock needs right now.
Shoving him roughly against the counter, I cover his back with my body, grinding my quickly hardening erection into his ass. West braces his hands on the counter and widens his stance for balance.
“Where is the most obscure place you’ve ever had sex?” My whispered words are a sinful suggestion in his ear.
“Fuck no, not in the BALLS bathroom,” he laughs.
“I can lock the door. Tell me,” I insist, thrusting into him.
Even through layers of clothing, I can tell he wants me as he pushes back against me. “You should know. You were there.”
I rack my brain trying to think of where we fucked that was so obscure. The hot tub? Our bedroom? Was he counting the bathroom at that bar? “Black Mountain Tavern?” I reach my hand around his hip to cup his cock, finding it rock-hard.
“No,” he chuckles, “in a bounce house.”
His words register through the fog of lust clouding my head, and I pause mid-kiss on his neck. “You had sex in a bounce house? When? Where the fuck was I?”
“The fuck if I know. You were there somewhere. Probably trying to score, same as I was.” He meets my eyes in the mirror and registers my confusion. “Sanderson and his wife had that birthday party for their kid.”