Innuendos (It Had 2 B U Book 1) (17 page)

I laugh. “Are you free for lunch? I need your help.”

“Sure, what time?”

“Eleven thirty? Can you meet me at little bistro on Blunt Street?”

“I’ll be there. Do you want me to bring Dashawn?”

“No!” I screech. “He’ll tell Max.”

“How do you know that I won’t tell Max?”

“Faith, I guess. Hope, too.”

“Okay, you’ve peaked my interest, but I must tell you that my loyalty is somewhat one dimensional, since I met Max first.”

I sigh. I was hoping she wouldn’t say that. “Maybe when I explain what I need, I can get you to join the Jedi.”

“Oooh, bribing me with
Star Wars
quotes. I like you already. Throw in a Snickers bar, and I’ll be humping your leg like that little Decepticon in the
Transformers
movie.”

Maggie is hilarious. The last couple times we’ve hung out with her, she’s made me laugh hysterically. I really need some female friends. I’m gagging on so much testosterone that I’m craving estrogen in my life.

“Okay, Snickers equals humping. Got it. Meet you at eleven thirty?”

“Yes, I look forward to our future leg humping.”

“I’m not sure if I should be afraid or turned on by that remark,” I giggle.

“Definitely turned on, I’m a grade “A” leg humper. Just ask Dashawn.”

“She’s never humped my leg,” he shouts.

“I so have. You were sleeping at the time.”

“I wasn’t dreaming that shit?” He asks mortified.

“Nope, I definitely leg humped you while you were asleep.”

“Oooookay, I think I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you at eleven-thirty.”

“You got it, bye Breeanne”

“Bye,” I quickly say, hanging up the phone.

I have to admit that I’m a little jealous of the cutesy relationship Maggie and Dashawn have. I miss that with Travis. We were always joking and having fun, just like me and Max always do. It’s sad that all it took was one look at my roommate for Travis to dump me.

At eleven-thirty I find Maggie sitting outside the bistro. She’s drumming the table with her fingers and waves at me when she sees me turn the corner.

“Hey, Maggie, thanks for meeting me.” I’m not sure how to bring up what I need her for. I’m actually a little nervous asking her about it. She’s Max’s friend, so asking her to help me could backfire. I reach into my purse and pull out a Snickers bar that I push towards her as a peace offering.

“Yes, candy bribery will get you everywhere!” she exclaims. She stuffs the candy into her purse and smiles. “So what’s up, woodchuck?” She snaps off a piece of garlic twist and begins nibbling on it.

“Okay, so you know the other night when we all went swing dancing?”

She nods.

“After Max and I came home, we were really drunk.”

“Oooh, did you guys sleep together? If you did it’s about damn time!” She replies excitedly.

“Eww no way! I would never sleep with Max,” I answer quickly. The last thing I need is for her to go running to Max and tell him about all the wet dreams I’m having about him lately. I know I’ve been looking at him differently, but I would never sleep with him.
Okay . . . maybe not never.

“Oh, sorry, I guess I just misread you two. You guys seemed really into each other while swing dancing.”

It’s true we were really close and flirty while dancing, but we’re always like that—even if that night it felt a little different.

“So you got drunk . . .”

“And we made a bet with each other.”

“Oooh, I love bets, especially juicy ones. What was the bet?”

“That neither one of us could go without participating or talking about, well you know . . .”

She grins. “You mean the horizontal tango? Sheet wrestling? Bumping uglies? The pound and slap game? Coitous? Fucking?”

“Yes, exactly. Peanut butter cups.”

“Is that the new lingo these days? Peanut butter cups, huh?”

“It’s what I’m calling it for now.”

“Okay, so what happens if one of you cracks and talks about peanut butter cups?”

“If I crack first, I owe Max a kiss—a real one like full on making out for thirty minutes on the couch. The only restriction is my clothes remain on, and he’s not allowed to touch my no-no zones.”

She giggles. “No-no zones, huh? I haven’t heard that phrase since I was in elementary school. So what do you get if he cracks first?”

“A puppy!” I answer in excitement. “We haven’t got one because Max doesn’t want to train a dog. Anytime I drag him to a pet store, he shoots me down about buying one. He doesn’t think I will take care of it and that he will have to pick up the poop and stuff. He’s right, but I still want a damn puppy.”

“It’s interesting how you both have very different wants from this bet.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure why he wants a stupid kiss. He could get anything he wanted, but he asked for a kiss. He’s a weirdo.”

“Yeah, he’s the weird one.”

She gives me a strange look, but I shake it off.

“So how can I help you?”

“Max assaulted my underwear collection last night. He literally cut up every crotch and snipped all my thongs. I have no underwear unless my vagina is wearing a mask.”

She laughs. “I’ve never imagined crotchless underwear being a mask before, but I can see it. Imagine walking into a bank and . . . never mind don’t imagine that.” She eats another piece of bread.

The waiter picks that moment to walk up to our table. He’s a handsome guy—a little young, but still handsome. He’s definitely in his early twenties and has reddish brown hair that’s neatly combed to the side. He grins at me and a single dimple appears on his cheek.

“What can I get you two, beautiful ladies?”

“I’ll take a turkey and cheese sandwich—no mayo, lots of mustard, and pickles please,” I answer.

“What to drink?” he asks.

“Water please,” I say smiling.

He turns to Maggie. “What would you like?”

“I’ll have a salad with Italian dressing, but please put it on the side, and I’ll take a water to drink,” Maggie tells him.

“Got it.” The waiter makes sure to lean in closely when he takes my menu, and I hear him whisper, “You’re beautiful,” in my ear. When I look up, he’s gone.

Maggie starts giggling. “It must be amazing to be you. Guys probably hit on you all the time.”

“Yeah, I guess they do. Honestly, I don’t date a lot because of Max. Every guy I date ends up dumping me the minute they meet him. I guess they think we’re messing around or something.”

“Well, you two do act like you’re married.”

“Do we? I never noticed,” I lie. We totally do act like an old married couple. It’s really annoying.

“So anyway, back to our previous conversation. He assaulted your underwear collection? How does he expect you to replenish it?”

I pull out the gift card to
Victoria’s Secret
and show it to her.

She whistles loudly. “Damn! Two hundred dollars? I didn’t realize Max was such a big spender.”

“Neither did I. We live off Ramen noodles and spaghetti. We don’t usually spend a lot of money.”

“Hmm, that’s very interesting. Have you thought about forcing him to watch you try on the underwear?”

“No, would that be a good way to get him back?”

“Think about it. You’re alone in a dressing room with barely any clothing on. It’s a sure fire way for him to jump your bones or at least blurt out some sexual comment.”

I contemplate this scenario and grin. “I could ask him to do me from behind. You know, like the bra won’t clasp or something.”

“I usually turn my bra around, clasp it, and turn it back around to slip my arms in the straps.”

“I think all girls do that, but Max doesn’t know that. It’s not like I get dressed in front of him. I really like this idea. It’s perfect. I have another idea I want to try out first, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I was thinking about asking him to give me a massage, and then asking him to massage my melons.”

“You mean your boobs?”

“No, I mean my melons. Like actual watermelons.”

“That’s pretty funny. Although I would be careful; I hear watermelons can be sticky.”

“I don’t plan on opening them. I want to use the melons to make it look like I got a boob job. Then when he goes to massage my breasts, he gets a palm full of melon instead. That’s what he calls my boobs anyway—melons. I thought it was fitting.”

“Well, if that doesn’t work, then you definitely need to do the lingerie thing. I’m pretty sure it will work.”

“I hope so. I’m not very good at this innuendo thing. Max is a pro at it. I kinda feel out of my element.”

“Remember to be funny. That’s the quickest way to win. Make him laugh and think about sex. It’s sure to get you a puppy.” She checks her cell phone. “Hey, I need to get back. It was really great having lunch with you. Make sure to keep me posted. I want to see how this all plays out.” She gets up from the table and opens her arms. “I’m a hugger, get over here and hug the crap out of me.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve had girl “
friends,”
so the actual hug ends up being quick and awkward. She laughs when she pulls away. “We’ll work on it. Don’t let him win, Breezy. You got this.”

“Thanks for all your help, Maggie. Tell that Chocolate God of yours I say hi.”

“Oh, I definitely will. See you later.”

Maggie gave me some great ideas on how to win this bet. Her lingerie idea is priceless. I know for sure that I can work it to my advantage. What self-respecting straight man says no to watching a woman model lingerie? No guy, they’re all horn dogs.

I came up with a perfect plan to get my revenge on Max for going all
Edward Scissor Hands
on my undergarments. After work I went to the store and bought two watermelons—two sizes bigger than my breasts. Usually I’m home before Max, so it was easy to get everything ready. I hid the watermelons in my bedroom and waited patiently for him to get home.

Around four-thirty, his smiling face struts through the door. He’s all sweaty. He practically melts onto the couch. His head lazily flops over to look at me. He sighs.

“Bad day?”

“Tiring, long, the owner has decided to let a trio of punk-ass kids start training there for boxing. To say they’re a pain in my ass is an understatement.”

“They can’t be that bad,” I tell him smiling.

“They’re prima donnas. One even had the audacity to ask me to go get him water. I don’t care if he’s the fucking light weight champion of Florida. I’m no one’s bitch.”

“You look like you need a massage,” I say sweetly.

“It wouldn’t hurt.” He quirks an eyebrow at me. He knows that I’m up to something. I’ve never given him a massage before. I dismiss his gaze and sit up on the couch, motioning for him to sit in front of me. He does as I instruct. The moment he’s close enough, I begin slowly kneading his shoulders.

“Oh god, you’re a witch. Put me under your spell, please,” he moans, leaning against me.

“You’re stupid,” I laugh.

“Where does it hurt?” I ask him.

“Everywhere, especially my groin muscle,” he looks behind him and smiles up at me. He’s never looked at me this way before. With our heads this close together, I’m two inches from his lips.

“There will be
no
happy ending with this massage.”

“Aww come on, those are the best kind of massages.”

“I took a self-defense course. I know your pressure points. Either suck it up and love my hands as they are, or you’ll be sleeping like a baby in five seconds.”

“I love your hands anytime they’re on me,” he winks.

“Shut up, Max.”

I find a spot in his back that’s totally knotted and begin massaging it.

“Oh fuck, right there.”

“Lay on your stomach,” I order him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he lays on his stomach and I inch his shirt up his back. I take a deep breath. Back muscles are on my top five favorite things about a man. The way Max’s back looks without a shirt is pure perfection. Before I know what’s happening, a drop of drool slides from the corner of my mouth and lands smack dab in the middle of Max’s back.
Whoops.

“What was that?” he asks.

“Massage oil.” I lie.

When he moves his head to look at me, I smack him, pushing his head into the pillows. He groans in protest until I start massaging him again. Then his groans get more erotic—almost sexual.

“Stay put.”

“You know the best way to restrain me is to tie me up. I think we have some duct tape in the kitchen.”

“I’m not tying you up. Now, shut up and eat the couch cushion.”

I quickly wipe away my fly away saliva and push my fingers deeply into his back. The more I do it, the more turned on I get. I’m thinking about sex. I’m thinking about it right now while I massage Max, and because of it, I’m suddenly very damp and straddling Max’s ass cheeks like a saddle.

“You’re really good at this,” he murmurs.

“I’m hoping you will return the favor afterwards.”

His head shoots up again to look at me. “For real?”

I nod and push his head back into the couch. “Assume the position, damn it.” As I get lower on his back, I’m fighting the urge to feel his ass cheeks. I’ve got the sudden itch to grab his ass and give him the best butt massage he’s ever had in his life. Thankfully, I push the thought away and resume touching him in normal places. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not attracted to Max, and yet I’m ten seconds away from my vagina humping his ass cheeks like a fucking horny wildebeest.