Chapter 6: Six

My eyes flickered from Isaac's sly ones to Joel's panicked ones. I couldn't speak. I couldn't fucking breathe.

"Speak of the devil and she shall appear." Isaac said with a wink. Wait, they were speaking about me? Oh God, please tell me he wasn't talking about the sex.

If I could bury myself in the tub of overpriced pinecones, I would never return. As I considered that option, I felt Danny's elbow in my ribs.

"Ow." I growled at her, but she ignored me, smiling brightly at Isaac.

"Hey, handsome. What're you two doing here? I didn't expect to find you in a place like this." For crying out loud, this was a Michael's, not a bar. But she did have a point. They stood out even more than we did, and it was obvious that we hadn't done anything crafty since Kindergarten.

"Oh, I'm just a prisoner, doll. Joel had to get his painting shit." He shrugged, nodding to the bag of brushes slung over Joel's wrist. Oh, here we go.

"No shit! Same here!"

"Wait, you cuties paint?" He asked surprised, meeting Joel's unreadable gaze.

"Not me, it's for Jen." Fuck. She was making me sound all creative and talented, conveniently leaving out that it's for a class. One I haven't even taken, yet!

Joel's wide stormy blue eyes met mine, and I could've sworn I saw them twinkle. It must've been the damn fluorescents. Then, as if they had been flicked off, his gaze darkened.

"Hey, Isaac. We have to go." He whispered to his friend, and I felt my heart sink. Was he avoiding me? Was I that terrible of company last night?

Maybe I misread him. Maybe it was his usual to sleep around with women, cuddle in front of the TV, then leave. Maybe I was one big joke to this asshole.

My insecurities were quickly becoming irritation, and Danny caught it. She hooked an arm through mine for comfort, before spouting what I was sure made sense in that crazy little head of hers.

"Well, actually Jen was just talking about how she wished she had your number, Joel. She really enjoyed last night."

Oh. My. God.

The betrayal.

My mouth fell open, and I floundered like a fish out of water. What the hell? Why would she say that?!

To make it worse, Joel just looked confused. Of course he was. He probably thinks I'm obsessed or something. We agreed that it would be a one night thing, and here Danny was challenging that. Ugh, why did I tell her anything?

"Well, I don't mind giving you my number, kitten." Isaac replied, pulling his tongue between his teeth so show a piercing there. I shivered, but Joel was quick to shut him down.

"I don't think she needs that." He grumbled, pulling him away. Excuse me? Who the hell was he to tell me whose number I could and couldn't have? Just because he didn't want to get to know me more didn't mean that Isaac didn't. I was pissed, and I hated that he could do this to me. I was normally so calm and reserved, but he made me damn near feral with his 'you're too innocent' bullshit.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind having your number, Isaac." I spoke up, earning a satisfying jaw drop from Joel and Danny, and an amused grin from the man himself. He broke Joel's dumbfounded grip, extending a hand for my phone. I rushed to accommodate, my hands trembling as I dug it out of my bag and placed it in his hands. After probably one of the most awkward pauses of my life, he handed it back, with a slight bow of his head.

"There, Kitten. If you ever need me for anything, you know how to reach me." He offered with a wink, and I could feel myself getting dizzy. The man was too much.

"Thank you." I mumbled quietly, clutching my phone against my chest. Why did I ask him for that? What was I trying to prove?

Joel looked annoyed, probably because we were holding them up, so I offered them a farewell. But as Joel and Isaac passed by, Joel leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"Check the fridge, babe."

What.

If I hadn't already been in a shitty mood buying all that painting crap, it was made all the worse when I arrived back at home to see a small pink post-it note on the fridge door.

"Jennifer, thank you for tonight. It was great. 555.456.7890."

"Son of a bitch!" I cursed, kicking the bottom of the stupid fridge and instantly regretting it. Ow! Of course he left it there. He probably assumed I would eat something before running out of the house like a lunatic. I was so angry, I didn't even consider that he would've left me his number. He probably thought I was such a floozy, practically begging Isaac for his number, especially after he warned me about his motives.

Swallowing my pride, I peeled the sticker off, opening up my phones contacts to input his information. The contact Isaac had created was still pulled up, and I snorted when I read, "Your Dream Come True <3". Did he put himself in every girls phone like that? If so, I wonder how often it worked.

I opened up the screen for a new contact, typing in the number before scrolling back to the name. Should I put him in as Joel? Joel Becker? Or maybe something cute like what Isaac did? I bit my cheek as inspiration hit me.

"Fate's Middle Finger"

Ah, that seemed fitting.

After saving it, I opened up a texting screen. I hardly ever texted anyone, so I wasn't sure how to do proper shorthand. I seriously had the technical know-how of an eighty year old man. Besides video games and excel spreadsheets, I was a lost cause.

My fingers hovered over the keypad, imagining all of the prospective things I could say, until I finally decided on the blatant truth.

"*I feel like such an idiot. I am so sorry*."

I stared at the phone for the next ten seconds. Was I supposed to see a chat bubble or something? I wasn't sure. I had never waited for a response before. The longer I stared, the more I was convinced I was losing my damn mind. This was nuts! I was a grown woman, not a fifteen year old girl. I literally had sex with the guy, and I was stressing over if he would text me back.

"This is stupid." I mumbled, placing my phone facedown on the coffee table as I went to make myself dinner. I was starving, and I hadn't even gotten to talk to my boss like I wanted to. This day was turning out to be shit. Not to mention I had to clear out a whole section of my room just to house all the painting crap I got. I hoped to God this professor didn't expect me to bring it to class. Hell no. It took three trips to get it in my damn apartment.

As I was mentally ranting about my unreasonable professor that I already hated, I heard the pinging of a text message. Joel! I dropped the silicone spoon to the stove, practically leaping over the counter to get to my phone.

"*I should be scolding you for not eating all day. But I'll chalk it up to our late night snack*." I pouted. What did he mean by, 'scold' me? I'm not a damn child. Still, something about his concern for me had me grinning like a fool. Before I could think of what to say back, another ping rang out. "*Have you called Isaac, yet?*" Was he taunting me or was he being jealous? Damn it, this is why I hated texting. It was impossible to read intent. Maybe I could just call him. He surely wouldn't mind, right? He did give me his number. And if he was busy, he wouldn't answer and that would be that. Without further ado, I clicked on the little green phone symbol by his name, my heart thrumming against my ribs violently as I prayed for him to answer. After two rings, the husky sound of his chuckle filled my ear. God, he was even sexy over the phone.

"You lasted two texts." I scowled at his version of 'hello', picking at a loose string on my sweats.

"I don't do well with texting. I barely understand people as is, I don't need to make it harder." He hummed, making my stomach flutter.

"So what about my texts were challenging for you?" I ignored the condescending tone of his sexy as hell voice, spouting my excuse.

"I couldn't tell if you were upset that I got his number or if you were teasing me about it. They would elicit two different responses."

"Oh, and what would those be?" His cocky challenge was already stirring up my inner hellcat, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream or throw him on my bed and ride him. God, what was wrong with me? Why was my anger showing itself as lust?

"Well, if you had said it bothered you… I would've told you to fuck off. And if you were teasing- actually, no. Same response." His chuckle got deeper, more menacing, and I shivered at the mental thought of feeling it against my core.

"You sure get braver over the phone." He was right, but I wasn't going to admit it.

"You don't change at all. Except I don't get to see you. Or touch you." I practically whispered the last part, imagining everything I would do to him if I could touch him again. He let out a deep sigh of contentment, as if sinking onto a fluffy couch after a long day.

"And, what would you do if you could see me? Touch me?" Oh God, his thoughts were just as in the gutter as mine! He didn't honestly expect me to tell him my fantasies, did he? That was beyond embarrassing. We'd barely known eachother for 24 hours. It seemed a little early for phone sex.

Still, I couldn't deny the aching between my legs. Even hearing that velvety voice over the speaker had me wetting my panties in arousal.

Absentmindedly, I reached my fingers down to my waiting core, biting back my moan as my fingers barely skimmed over my swollen clit. I was so damn horny and we hadn't even said anything dirty, yet. Yet? Shit, is that what I wanted?

Sensing my inner struggle, he continued with that low, husky, and delicious voice of his.

"Because, I know what I would want you to do." Fuck.

"Yea?" I practically squeaked. He hummed again, and I felt the dampness come through the fabric of my sweats. In a rush to feel more, I spread my legs a bit more, trailing my fingers below the waistband until they made contact with the soaked cotton. My breathing was speeding up in anticipation of his words.

"Oh yes. But why don't you tell me, first?" I swallowed hard, running my tongue over my lips to moisten them. I didn't have time to worry about how I might sound to him. My body craved the release, the release that I knew he could give me with words alone. So I spoke, barely recognizing my voice through the lust dripping heavy from every word.

"Well, I think I would want to get you naked again." One long stroke along my pussy made me suck in a harsh breath.

"Go on." He urged, his voice sexy and strained with want.

"I would want to taste your cock, just like you tasted my pussy. I would want to see if you could fit down my throat." I pictured it, his hard cock covered in my spit and precum as he fucked my mouth. Shit, the image was killing me and I slid my fingers beneath the cotton, letting out a moan when I made direct contact with my swollen clit.

"You tasted so damn good." He breathed, and I heard the distinct sound of a zipper in the background. Oh God, was he going to touch himself like I was? The thought only turned me on more, and I began stroking myself faster to accommodate.

"Then, you w-would… grab onto my hair… and force yourself deeper…" I could barely speak anymore. The thought of gagging on his massive cock had me panting like a bitch in heat.

"You naughty girl." He purred, hot and heavy. "Are you touching yourself right now?" I moaned in response, dipping two fingers into my oasis as I gyrated my hips to create friction. I was imagining him inside me again, stretching and filling me, doing what I knew only he could do to me. "Fuck. Taste yourself, baby. Switch hands and put your fingers in your mouth. Taste what I did." Oh fuck. That was so dirty, so risque, but something about the desperation in his voice made me want it more. I obeyed, putting the phone on speaker so I could accomplish my goal.

I slid my two come-coated fingers from my pussy, replacing them with my left hand. Before tasting my arousal, I eyed the slick clear liquid closely. This was what he did to me. He made me this way. I remembered having to keep lubrication on supply constantly when I was with Evan, but that would never be a problem with Joel. Just thinking about him had me running like a tap.

With one last breath, I closed my eyes, placing my fingers on top of my tongue and sucking. I tasted sweeter than I expected. Maybe a little tangy, but certainly not bad.

"That's it, baby. Suck nice and hard. Imagine it's my cock filling your mouth. Imagine it gagging you, choking you." He took in a shaky breath, and I knew he was as close as I was. My muffled moans got louder, and he responded with a groan of his own. "Come with me, Jennifer."

"Oh God, yes." I panted, still with my fingers in my mouth like a wild animal. I could feel the heat building. It was consuming me, and I wished I could tear every ounce of fabric off my body, but it was too late. I couldn't stop now. I needed to release. I needed to come.

My legs stiffened, and my breath came out broken and shallow.

"Fuck, Jen. Ah… shit…" He grounded, and I imagined his face buried in my neck as he finished inside of me. The thought alone was enough to tip me over the edge of my climax.

"Joel, I-" I couldn't finish my sentence through the throes of my orgasm. I muttered a slew of curses as I squirmed on the couch, finally removing my fingers from my mouth so I could grip onto the cushion.

Then, heavy breathing ensued.

"What the hell just happened?" Joel breathed softly between pants, sounding just as confused as I was. All I knew was that I had told him to fuck off and now we were here.

"You've never-?" He cleared his throat, and I could hear him shuffling around, likely cleaning the come from his stomach.

"No. You?" I laughed at his absurd question.

"No. God, no. Never." But now I had. This man did something to me. He made me into a creature I had never been. He made me crave satisfaction in a way I never had before. He made me crave him.

"Well, I'm not-" Before he could continue, the deafening sound of the smoke detector went off in the kitchen.

"Fuck, my food!" I shouted, jumping from the couch to turn off the burner beneath the billowing pan.

"Ha. Jen, you were cooking?" Why did it sound like he was scolding me again?

"Um, yes? But it's okay! No fires, just smoke!" I shouted back at the phone over the loud beeping. I had grabbed a magazine from the counter and started jumping up and down, waving it frantically below the white circle to dissipate the smoke. Damn thing. It was killing my ears, I couldn't imagine how it sounded over the phone. Much to my relief, after a few good jumps, it shut itself off.

I stopped bouncing, coming to rest with my hands on my hips. That was one hell of an adrenaline rush following another adrenaline rush.

"Are you still alive over there?" He tried to hide his concern behind a joking tone, making me smile.

"Yea. Though, I think I might need to hit the gym."

"Next time I'll make sure to remind you to turn off any potential hazards before hot phone sex." He retorted, making my heart skip. Next time?

"You like me?" I mumbled, more to myself than him. He chuckled and I heard the sound of running water in the background. He was getting in the shower, something I desperately needed to do after coating myself in sweat, come, and sin.

"Did you ever doubt that I did?" I didn't answer him right away. Of course I doubted it. I wasn't exactly his type. He was exciting, handsome, and covered in ink. I was bland and socially impaired. He had no reason to like me.

"Um, I think I'll just shower and head to bed. I have an early day." I couldn't help the grin that spread over my face as I walked back to my phone.

"Sounds good. Just, please eat something. Even if it's just crackers. I don't want you to shrivel up before I can ask you on a proper date." I could hear him smiling, too. Just a few hours ago, I was sure that he was mocking me, making a fool of me. Now, he was talking about asking me out? The sequence of events was all sorts of fucked up, but I didn't care.

"I promise. I'll eat something... substantial." I added, as the weird thought of me sucking on my fingers came to mind. What the hell was I thinking?

"Thank you. I'll text you in the morning. Goodnight, Jennifer."

"Goodnight, Joel."

After a peanut butter sandwich and a hot shower, I was curled up in bed, ready to drift off, but before I could, a ping came through my phone.

"*Goodnight, baby. Sweet dreams*." And with that, they were sure to be sweet dreams, indeed.