Dirty (Dive Bar #1)

I snorted. “I see. Great way to save water.”


“Environmental warrior. That’s me. This is a bit of a tight squeeze. Hang on.” His arm went around my middle for as long as it took to pull me back and up. An easy enough thing to do in the water. Legs stretched out beneath me and I sat on a rough lap. Wet denim made for about as comfortable a seat as you’d imagine. At least I wasn’t wearing it. Could you imagine the chafing?

I reinserted the bath plug before we lost all of the water. “Yeah, this doesn’t feel sexual at all. Me sitting naked on your lap, bathing by candlelight.”

“God, you’ve got a dirty mind.”

I gave him a look over my shoulder. Hopefully it conveyed my complete lack of trust.

“I respect your wishes, Lydia. Nothing’s going to happen.” Eyes wide and innocent, he drank his beer.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Shh. You didn’t want to talk.”

Asshole.

Spine straight, I sat there, sipping my drink. True to his word, nothing was said, no move was made. Gradually, I began to relax. I blame the shadows cast by the candles. Those flickering flames lulled me. Eventually, I rested my back against his wet-shirted front, got comfortable.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier,” he whispered.

“Again.”

“Yeah.” A heavy sigh. “Again.”

“One day, maybe, you might want to talk to someone about all of this. Your parents passing…”

Silence. Lots and lots of silence. I prepared myself for the boom. More yelling and swearing, et cetera. He’d made it perfectly plain that he didn’t wish to discuss these sorts of things. Yet there I went meddling, diving right back in where my nose did not belong. What an idiot good intentions made of you. Because the thought of him carrying this pain around for the rest of his life hurt. It hurt bad.

So yeah, I waited.

Instead of rage, however, he kissed the side of my face. It was with closed lips. Chaste. Tears welled in my eyes, my breath hitching. Stupid heart.

“Talk to me,” I said.

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Tell me a story.”

“All right.” He cleared his throat, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm against my back. Pity, being with him always felt so right. My life would be far safer, more straightforward, if I’d been able to retain some semblance of indifference. What had happened to all the cold hard lessons care of my parents? It seemed like ever since I’d seen the home porn of Chris and Paul going at it, something inside of me had come loose. It definitely wasn’t desire. Closer to crazy, if anything.

“Once upon a time,” he began, voice low and measured. “There was a princess. A beautiful, occasionally annoying princess.”

“What was her name?”

“Ah, Notlydia.”

I frowned. “Her name is Notlydia?”

“You wanted a story, I’m giving you one. Shut up.”

“Whatever.”

An even heavier sigh from the man. “Anyhoo, Notlydia was all set up to marry this prince. We’ll call him Prince Bag of Dicks.”

“Works for me.”

“But on the day of her wedding, when she was wearing this sweet dress that served her tits up like they were on a fucking platter—”

“Is this an R-rated story?”

“Please,” he said, sliding an arm around my bare waist. And I let him. “R is for rubbish. If you don’t get to see any penetration then you’re wasting your time. This is XXX.”

I laughed.

“So on the day of her wedding to Prince Bag of Dicks, Notlydia kisses him and he turns into a big slimy two-headed toad with terrible breath and even worse foot odor.”

“Whoa.” I rested my head back against his shoulder. “Poor Notlydia.”

“Hell of a plot twist, right?”

“Never saw that one coming.”

“Mm.” He rested his cheek against the top of my head.

“What happens next?”

“Well, she’s completely freaked out, of course.”

“Of course.”

“And she takes off into the woods. She’s running through bushes, jumping fences, climbing trees, you name it. Nothing’s going to stop her from getting the hell away from that toad, Prince Bag of Dicks.” He took a sip of beer. “Unfortunately, she loses her fancy dress along the way. She’s just down to some skimpy underwear and a corset and with all that jogging through the forest, it’s barely holding her in. One decent breath and there’s going to be nipple out there for all the world to see. Did I happen to mention she’d been voted Best Rack in the kingdom four years running? Anyway, eventually she finds this small cottage. Now, what you don’t know about Notlydia is that she has a shady past.”

I tried to look up at him. But with the angle, all I got was stubble and cheekbone. “That doesn’t sound like Notlydia.”