The Panty Whisperer: The Complete Series (28 page)

"Bridget. Your mom helped me through some difficult times once. My condolences to you and your family. She talked about you all the time." She flips her hair back, and my cock springs into action against my zipper. She grins. An evil grin. I know this grin well. It's an "I want to fuck you" grin.

"Hopefully she said good things."

What is wrong with you, Joel? Getting a hard-on in your mother's house when you just buried her?

It has to be the fucking booze. It's playing tricks with my inhibitions.

"Mostly good." She giggles, and my dick grows harder at the sound.

She's gorgeous, but as usual Quinn is on my mind again. I take another drink and try to erase her from my thoughts. I can tell this girl isn't the usual churchgoer. I'm a bit flustered at Mom hiding her from me, but I can understand why. I'm sure she was vulnerable whenever she helped her through whatever problems she had.

Bridget nibbles on a fingernail. "She certainly didn't lie when she said her son was handsome."

She licks her lips and twirls her hair. Goddamn this girl. Maybe she's what I need to take my mind off of Mom and Quinn. I see Tommy and Megan eyeing me from across the room. Tommy cracks half a smile that disappears the second Megan looks up at him. She says something in his ear. He nods and starts toward me.

I appreciate everything Megan said in the car. She's a good person and great for Tommy. But I don't forget that she's Quinn's best friend. She has a vested interest in stopping me from fucking some strange, and it has nothing to do with what's best for me.

I turn to Bridget. "I need to take my mind off of things. You wanna get out of here?" I turn to Bridget and her "fuck me" eyes are already undressing me.

"You really should stay, but I'll give you my number. Call me later and we can hang out."

She's right. I need to stay and make sure to thank everyone for coming, even though we've been here for four hours already. "I definitely will."

She finds a pen and scribbles her number on a napkin, then walks off through the front door. Megan stares lasers that I'm worried might incinerate Bridget like Scorpion's finishing move.

Toasty!

Tommy strolls up to give me a rehearsed speech, in order to appease Megan.

"No, no, Whisperer, just no. Bad fucking idea, bro."

I'm still watching Bridget avoid Scorpion's attempt at a fatality. "I don't know what you're talking about. She just wants to hang out."

"Is that what the kids call it these days?" He stares at me and moves in closer, bugging his eyes out, before stepping back and nodding. "Yep. You gonna fuck her. You're going to fuck that poor girl. That poor, poor innocent girl gonna get fucked tonight. She sure is."

"Poor? There's nothing poor about what I'll do to Bridget later." I slap him on the shoulder, and he feigns a look of irritation in Megan's direction. He shrugs and walks back over to her. I see him mouth "I tried" at her.

Anxiety riddles my stomach. This has probably already gotten back to Quinn. Fucking gossip queens. I have frustrations that need to be relieved though. Bridget looks like she can comfort me perfectly. Quinn still sits at the front of my mind, and I plan to remedy that.

Soon.

I pull up in front of Bridget's house. The fastback is roaring under the hood, and I can feel her vibrations in the whites of my knuckles. It's a quiet street so I'm sure Bridget heard me pull up. I can practically feel her panties getting wet, staring out the window and looking at the Mustang.

My buzz has worn off considerably after all the heartfelt goodbyes. Guilt is taking over my body, but the image of Bridget in that black dress keeps me from abandoning our little hang out session.

A fresh knife plunges into my stomach as I near her porch. When I hit the last step of her stairs, the door opens and she's standing there in a black lacy teddy. My dick nearly explodes in my fucking pants. Bridget takes notice.

"Well, we can't be wasting that out here."

When I near the door she grabs me by my tie and yanks me into the house, slamming the door shut behind us.

JOEL

T
OMMY
IS
SHAKING
his head too much for comfort as I walk up to him at the bar top.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing, man. Didn't say a damn thing, bro."

"Megan tell Quinn?"

He stares at me like I'm an idiot. "Herbert, I just wanna shake the ever-loving shit out of you sometimes. Quinn knew the second she walked by you and you poked your little head, yes I mean both of them, up like a turtle coming out of his shell. Megan tell Quinn? Fucking Michelangelo over here. You didn't learn shit from Splinter, did you? Fucking honorary Foot Clan member."

"It wasn't like that."

His eyes are about to pop out of his head. "Just save it, bitch. You're making my life oh so complicated. You're lucky you're a hot piece of man meat."

"But—"

"Don't!" He bugs his eyes at me again.

"I—"

"I said don't." He talks so damn fast I can't get out a word and his puffed out cheeks are trying not to laugh. His eyes open wider.

"Look—"

"You are terrible at this game, Sir. I said don't!" He's on the verge of an aneurysm.

"Fine. You are such a persistent prick. You know that? What the fuck is new?"

He looks away. So smart to have such an obvious tell. He's withholding information.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." He won't look at me, and now I have to know.

His voice gets all high pitched. He's nervous. "You see the new Force Awakens trailer? If Abrams doesn't bury that goddamned Binks clown I will murder him, Herbert. I will fuck his Facebook page with the fury of 1,000 angry porn dicks, by god!"

"Tell me what you're going to tell me." I inch closer to him.

He shakes his head. "Didn't work. Did it? Changing the subject. You can't be persuaded to the dark side?"

"Tell me. I know you want to. Join me, Thomas."

He looks away.

"Thomas, look at me." I'm the one bugging my eyes now.

He turns back to me and cackles. "Your Jedi mind tricks won't work on me, Sir. I am enslaved by the pussy of one Megan, much like Leia tied to the likes of a forty-ton gila monster. I am a Jedi, like my father before me."

I crouch down in his face. "So be it, Jedi. And now young Skywalker, you will die."

"Fine, man goddamn!"

I grin huge.

He glares back at me. "Quinn's leaving town. She's going to speak at some bullshit conference for their company. And it could be permanent if she does well." He gasps like he's been holding his breath for hours.

My heart drops into my stomach. Pain rips through my bones at his words, but I compose myself. "Good for her. I'm sure it'll be good for her career." I look around and want to rip the walls off this building and burn it to the ground.

"I'm sorry, man."

"For what?"

He looks up at the bartender and orders two scotches, then tosses me a look like I'm clueless and want to copy his calculus homework. "I'm sorry."

I give in and stare down at the ground. "It's okay, buddy. It's not like it's a hundred percent sure thing she's leaving forever, right?"

"Yeah, well. I don't know. I wish you two would stop being idiots. Everyone can see it but the two of you." He stares out the window.

I want to change the subject, but my thoughts are flying back and forth like a
Blue Angels
air show. "It's too late, man. Yeah, I love her. But I fucked it up. Can we all please move on?"

His face tightens and his jaw clenches, grinding his teeth together.

Guilt pummels my abs with a right cross.

"You didn't fuck it up, man. You could still have her. You're just too much of a pussy to do anything about it." He slams his fist on the counter, rattling all the glasses down the bar, then turns and walks toward the door.

"Dude, what the fuck? What do you care anyway? Sorry I'm not making things convenient for you and Megan." I squeeze my glass of scotch so hard I'm worried it might break.

He pauses for a second, then turns back around and walks over to me. His hands are clenched into fists. I don't know that either one of us has ever been in a fight, so I don't know what the fuck to do. He gets up in my face. "Don't pull your little mind fuck bullshit on me. Trying to make it seem like I'm looking out for me. I want you to be happy." He sighs and puts a hand on my shoulder.

Thank god. Us fighting would've been embarrassing. Our technique, not the actual action.

"That girl you're letting get away is the one. And this is the only fucking shot you got at her."

His words hit me in the chest, but I'm too proud to admit he's right, as usual. Naturally, I make light of the situation. It's just what we do. "Five hundred fights, that's the number I figured when I was a kid."

"Knockaround Guys, nice. Very obscure, Sir. I bet Vin Diesel slays more ass than ol' Herbert even."

"You're high as fuck."

We both laugh.

Tommy puts a hand on my shoulder. "I always got your back, man. Before my own."

"I know." I look away.

"Look at me, man."

I turn back to him and nod. "I know. Okay?"

"Yeah. I know you do, bitch. I gotta go though. That chick really does have a leash on my cock. And I like it."

"I know you do, buddy."

He turns to walk out the door.

"And don't you ever try to manhandle a cowboy, we'll cut your goddamn pimp's heart out. Understand?"

He flips back around in front of the door. "I'm your huckleberry."

QUINN

J
ET
FUEL
AND
car exhaust stick to my clothes as I make my way to the front of the airport. Everyone always looks all professional and put together, like they know what they're doing. I'm a hot mess. My hair is half dry and I don't know if my socks match. I nearly had a heart attack when I woke up and all my clocks were flashing "12:00." Out of all the days for a power surge, it had to be today.

I can't mess this up. This is my shot. Knock this out of the park and the sky's the limit. I look up to see where I need to check my bags, and my Starbucks cup hits the ground, exploding on the tile. His eyes are locked onto mine. My whole body goes numb, and it's like the sky is crushing me into the ground.

Joel.

He stalks toward me, and my heart wrenches. Why? Why now? I simultaneously want to rip into him and melt into his arms.
What is wrong with you, Quinn? Stay strong.

He looks weak, defeated. It doesn't help the heat rushing into my face, and the anger coursing through my blood. I can't stop thinking about him with that girl at his mom's funeral. Him not calling. Not texting. Leaving me to worry about him.

Fuck him. Fuck you, Joel.

"Hey."

Goddamn his gorgeous fucking eyes. My body acts independently of my brain, and I slap him. Hard. Tears roll down my cheeks. He turns back to me, and my hand itches to hit him again.