Page 22 of Hotwife
A text shot through.
Desmond: 18 minutes. Painting your nails doesn’t qualify as busy.
Me: Asshole.
Desmond: Still been called worse. And wear the opposite of what you normally do. Like, actual walking shoes and nothing with frills or lace.
My cheeks ached with the smile that plastered itself to my face. Rushing to my closet, I combed through and came up short. The loose, low neck shirt and mom jeans I was currently wearing would have to do. I found some old running shoes and laced them on. Stopping at my vanity in my walk-in closet, I shrugged on a pink waterproof bubble jacket. Surveying my face, Cedric wasn’t the only one sporting a few new wrinkles. I dabbed some concealer under my eyes and blended a few dots of blush on my cheekbones. With a quick swipe of mascara, I looked pretty but not too pretty. My freckles were visible but dulled. My red hair wild with curls. I sprayed a spritz of leave-in conditioner and raked my fingers through, trying to breathe some life into my washed-out look. Summers in Georgia had my freckles bright with sun. My skin missed the sun. I missed its warmth, too. Which reminded me. I pulled out my phone. No text from my sister. Weird. My thumb stalled over the call button when a heavy knock sounded at my door.
Shoving my phone into my coat pocket and pulling a pink scrunchie onto my wrist, I bounded down the stairs, stopping just before the door to take a steadying breath. When I opened it, Des stood arms crossed, leaning against his bike. His biceps bulged beneath his leather jacket and his eyes were hidden behind aviator shades. God, he was like something out of a magazine. Too hot to even be real. His eyes scanned me top to bottom, lazily taking their time on their descent. I noticed his gaze darken over my low-cut top and linger over my hips. But he didn’t mention my text from the night before like I thought he might.
“Jump on, Barbie. The weather’s only going to be nice until this evening,” he ordered, slinging his leg over his bike and extending a helmet.
Walking over, I pulled the helmet on, hoping it didn’t completely ruin the hair I just worked to tame. “Where are we going that it’s so important I had to miss my nail appointment?” I asked, threading my tone with sarcasm.
He huffed, but his smile was evident in his reply. “You’ll see. But first, coffee. Or do you only drink sunshine and sarcasm?”
“I’ll make an exception today,” I replied, feeling butterflies ignite in my stomach as I pressed my breasts against his back. Des chuckled and the Harley’s engine roared to life, drowning out all other thought or sound. My legs instinctively hugged him tight, and I tightened my hands’ grip around his waist. Getting going was jarring, but once we picked up a steadier speed, I relaxed my hold. My mind emptied, spilling out onto the pavement behind us as we glided forward, increasing in speed. Des took back roads all the way to the coffee shop, and I half wondered if he did it because he thought taking his bike onto the highway may scare me. He was right, but the thought of going faster still sent a thrill of curiosity and adventure through me.
When the motorcycle’s kickstand landed outside Port City Java, I stood outside, pulling out my phone. “Can you get me a dark roast with cream and sugar? I need to call my sister real quick.”
Des walked around to the back of his bike and opened a hatch attached to the back. Pulling out two thermoses, he nodded. “Be right back. Don’t dive into any bodies of water while I’m gone.”
“No promises,” I said, shooting him a caustic grin.
After two rings, my sister’s drawl answered. “Dude, I’ve been trying to talk to you for days!”
“I know, me too. I don’t have much time, I’m actually um, well, I’m on a motorcycle with this guy.”
“Jesus, Dolly. Your life is so interesting now. Is he hot?” The sound of Odie’s smile warmed by heart with a bittersweetness like dark chocolate and memories.
“He’s hot as hell. But it’s not like that. He sort of knows me, like my actual name and life and stuff. I’m just helping him with some photography work.”
My little sister clicked her tongue. “Uh-huh, sure.”
Rolling my eyes, I grinned. “So what’s so urgent you’ve been call-bombing me?”
“God, Dolly, there’s so much to tell you. I-”
“Ruby?” a male voice interrupted, and I lost the last part of what Odette was saying.
“Hey, I’m really sorry Odie, I need to call you back,” I said before ending the call.
Standing stout and awkward, clutching a coffee cup, the man gave me a quizzical yet excited look. “I hoped I’d run into you. Look, I don’t know what I did, but I really think you should give this another chance.”
What was his name again? Kevin? Kirk?
“It’s not personal,” I muttered, caught off guard and fumbling for words. “I’m just not really in the same place anymore. I-”
“Ruby, come on,” He lunged forward, taking hold of my wrist. Something like fear and annoyance climbed up my body at the feel of it. Kenneth. That was his name.
I made to jerk my hand away when a tall, looming presence appeared next to me. Kenneth dropped my hand in an instant and gazed up, eyes widening. “Ah shit. Ruby, you could have just said you’re with someone now. It’s not cool to lead a guy on-”
“Don’t look at her.” Desmond’s low voice was eerily calm and Kenneth blanched.
“Sorry man, I didn’t mean any disrespect to you.”
Desmond handed me the two warm thermoses and stepped in front of me. Kenneth took a step back, flinching before Des even continued. I had to admit, Desmond was pretty scary looking on a primal level. I’d be frightened too if I didn’t know he was a nice guy under all that brawn.