Shit, shit, shit.
Not only could you not be mad at someone who apologizes, straight out, you couldn’t hold a grudge either. It was a double whammy.
I kept silent, not being a bitch, I just didn’t know what to say.
“I really don’t like your flirting,” Lee continued.
“I’m getting that.”
His hand came up and brushed the hair away from my shoulder and neck. Then it slid down my arm until it encountered my hand and his fingers laced with mine.
“We aren’t doin’ very well at this, are we?” he asked.
“Not really,” I answered.
He sighed.
“I saw Cherry Blackwell tonight,” I told him.
Silence for a beat and then, “I heard.”
“She was in fine form.”
Silence.
“She said, right in front of your mother, that you like blow jobs in the morning.”
Another beat of silence.
“She’s wrong,” Lee finally said, “I like ‘em anytime.”
This time I was silent for a beat, not certain I liked this answer. Then I said, mainly because I couldn’t help myself, I had residual anger and Lee was the only one around.
“Is she better in bed than me?”
Another sigh and his fingers tightened on my hand. “Indy, don’t ask questions like that.”
Oh… my… God.
She was!
Cherry Blackwell was better in bed than me.
If she wasn’t, he would just say. He was a straight-talker, he never lied, just avoided the truth on occasion.
“Right,” I returned, all pissed off, and then flipped around and pushed at his shoulders until he was on his back. My mouth was at his chest and moving down when he hauled me back up.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m going to give you something to compare. You can score us, me against Cherry, like the ice skaters in the Olympics.”
“The Head Olympics?” Lee asked, his voice amused.
“Something like that,” I replied, totally angry now because he thought I was funny. I broke free of his hold and started down again.
He hauled me back up.
“Your mouth isn’t gettin’ anywhere near me when you’re pissed off,” he said.
I tried to carry on and he kept hauling me back. This became somewhat of a wrestling match, which, with even a small amount of effort, Lee could have won. I could tell he was being gentle and trying not to hurt me, which put him at a disadvantage.
We tussled, tangled in the sheets, rolled, tussled more and ended up falling on the floor, me on the bottom. Luckily, Lee’s arm was around my waist and it tightened and he threw his other one out to break our fall, doing kind of a one arm push up with me in the middle. Still, my ass slammed against the floor and Lee’s hips mashed into mine.
This nearly knocked the wind out of me but I continued, rolling him over, then he rolled me over.
Then somehow arms, legs and rolling were joined by lips, tongues and groping and the wrestling match got interesting.
We were both breathing heavily, I was seriously hot and bothered, when all of a sudden, the flannel shirt was whisked over my head, my panties were gone and Lee slid inside me.
I instantly stopped wrestling, wrapped my legs around his thighs and my arms around his back.
He was moving inside me and I was moving with him, our lips touching but not kissing, our breath coming fast. I lifted my head to kiss him but he pulled away and kept moving inside me. Then his lips came back to mine and I tried to kiss him again but he pulled away again.
“Lee…” I whispered, I was going to tell him I wanted to kiss him and he should stop messing around.
He drove in deep and said against my mouth, “There it is.”
Then he kissed me.
*
After, my legs were still wrapped around his thighs, one of my hands was in his hair, the other one on his ass. Lee’s face was tucked into my neck and he was still inside me.
“Cherry’s a four. You’re off the scales,” he said to my neck.
I might have thought this was bullshit, but one thing Lee wasn’t was a bullshit artist.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” I said.
“No, you shouldn’t.”
He pulled away, carted us both into the bed and he settled me against him, full-frontal.
“I didn’t mean to flirt with Eddie,” I told his throat. “It was a reflex action.”
One of his arms tightened around me, the other hand started fiddling with my hair.
“I’ll try to do better… with the flirting,” I said.
“I’d appreciate that.”
“You need to do better… with the jealousy thing, not every guy wants to get in my pants.”
“You’re wrong, every guy does want to get in your pants,” Lee said.
“Tex doesn’t.”
“Tex isn’t every guy. Tex is a crazy guy and he’s old enough to be your father.”
“Duke doesn’t,” I tried.
“Dolores would chop Duke’s dick off if he so much as looked at another woman and he’s old enough to be your father.”
“Hank doesn’t,” I persevered.
“Hank doesn’t count. He thinks of you as his little sister.”
“Darius doesn’t.” I was a dog with a bone.
“Darius doesn’t fuck white women.”