She looks down. “I’m not exactly dressed.”
As I scan from her head to her painted toenails, my grin broadens. It’s as my gaze lingers on her spectacular tits that her nipples harden, tenting the tank top.
“Jeez, Marsh, stop. You’re...” She didn’t finish the sentence.
“What? I’m just looking at you.”
“Yeah, but your eyes are all molten and simmering.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means we have a problem to work out, and with just one look, I want to forget that problem, forget dinner, and go give my new bed another workout.”
I tug her hand toward the bedroom. “Okay.”
“No. Food, sabotage tiny-dick, and then sex.”
“Is the order of operations set or” —I try flashing her one of my famous grins— “is there some wiggle room?” I almost mention that her little itinerary combined with the thought of her wiggling has me hard, but since she shook her head, picked up her purse, and is headed for the door, I think the part of me that’s growing harder will have to wait.
“Fine,” I say, “You drive a hard bargain.”
It isn’t until we’re nearly halfway through our sushi that something she said earlier hits me. I lay down my chopsticks. “Wait, what did you say earlier about the honeymoon?”
She dips her California roll in soy sauce and looks up at me. “He lied about France. He wouldn’t tell me what he had planned. It was supposed to be a surprise. But I accidentally opened an email of his and saw the itinerary. Like I said, he had a week booked in New York.”
I cocked my head to the side. “How did you accidentally open his email?”
Her eyes open wide. “Shit. He programmed his password into my laptop one time when we were on a weekend getaway. His laptop was out in the car and he had to reply to...” She starts nodding and bouncing in her chair. “Oh shit. I have access to his email.”
It takes all my self-restraint to keep my eyes on hers and not at the way her free-range tits are bouncing beneath that tank top. “Do you think he’s changed the password?”
“If he’s smart...” Her smile grows.
“Right.”
“Hopefully, he’s forgotten that he did it.”
Just before I stuff the last roll of sushi in my mouth, I say, “Let’s go back to your place and see what we can find.”
Sami
I’m so excited to find out if we have access to Jackson’s emails that I tug on Marshal’s hand, hurrying him from the parking lot to my condo. “Hurry.”
“I thought you liked it slow,” Marshal responds as his long strides catch up with and pass me until he’s the one in the lead.
Grinning, I shake my head.
I’m not sure if I never noticed all of Marshal’s sexual innuendos, or if I did and they didn’t used to affect me. Either way, I love how comfortable we are with one another and how easy it is to be together. There was a part of me that was afraid sex would change things.
Maybe it has changed things.
In a good way.
Once we’re in my condo, Marshal follows me to my bedroom.
“Hey, why are we in here?” he asks as his eyebrows dance. “I know. You’ve decided that the bed workout comes before taking down tiny-dick?”
“No, there’ll be no coming before taking down tiny-dick.”
Marshal smiles, snaps his fingers, and points to me. “You’re good.”
“I told you I was.” I sit down at my desk and open my laptop.
“Where were you?”
I crane my neck to see Marshal’s face. “When? What are you talking about?”
“Where were you when he used your laptop?”
I let out a long sigh. “Holland.”
“The country?”
A smile curls my lips. “No, Michigan.”
“Whoa, big spender,” Marshal says as he sits on the edge of my bed. “Did you fly or take the thirty-minute drive.”
As my computer is coming to life, I think back. “It was a spontaneous getaway. And it was tulip time.” I smile. “We stayed at this quaint bed-and-breakfast. Actually, we went there on multiple occasions. The couple who owns it is so nice. I think Jackson did some legal work for them.”
Marshal lies back on the mattress, his knees bent and feet still on the floor. I can’t help but notice the way his blue jeans fit, how as he lifts his hands over his head, his shirt rides up exposing that sexy V that some men have. Turning back to my computer, I remember what I said earlier, how all men would pale compared to Marshal.
It’s not only his monster cock that puts him in a league all by himself.
It’s him.
Maybe that’s been my problem with finding my forever and always.
I met mine at five years old and have been comparing everyone ever since. I don’t think it’s been a conscious thing, but as I imagine what he’s hiding under his blue jeans and my core clenches, I know the bar has been raised. Before it was Marshal’s friendship that was the standard measurement; now it’s so much more.
“Here it is,” I say, clicking onto Jackson’s email account.
Marshal is up and off the bed, his handsome face next to mine as he leans near my shoulder.
“It looks like him.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Boring.”
I start scrolling, reading each subject line. I have to agree it’s not enthralling reading. “What about folders?” I ask as I continue to navigate through Jackson’s private information.
There are hundreds.
Who has hundreds of folders?
“Shit,” Marshal says, “look at all of those.”
“And they’re all labeled with initials. It will take hours to go through them all.” I sigh and lean back. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”
Marshal’s strong hands come to my shoulders. His long fingers squeeze and massage.
“Oh.” I roll my head on my neck. “That feels so good.”
“Don’t let him make you tense.”
I can’t see my best friend, but I feel him. It’s not only his hands on my shoulders and neck, but it’s also his calming presence. “I think in some way, Jackson always did that.”
Marshal’s hands come off my shoulders. “Well, then I won’t.”
“No, please don’t stop. It feels amazing.” Once again, Marshal is behind me, squeezing and massaging. “Yes...”
“What did he do?”
“No details, remember.”
“Honey, you’re not talking about sex. I know that.”
My head shakes as I close my eyes. “Made me tense. I didn’t see it as it was happening. Like that night you were talking about, at that bar. I’d spent the day with Mom looking at wedding dresses and I didn’t realize that the time for dinner had been changed. I hadn’t looked at my texts, so even though I thought I was on time, I wasn’t.”
Marshal didn’t say a word as his fingers continued their magic.
I wasn’t seeing the computer screen right before my eyes but rather memories.