Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)

“Are you gay?” I shout, which only causes her to laugh even louder.

At this point, I have no doubt that she is rolling around on her bed in a fit of laughter. I can even picture it. She’s probably half naked, wearing only a tight little see-through tank top and thong. Her nipples are peaked from a chill in the air. No, wait. Strike that. Her nipples are peaked from how turned on she is from being on the phone with me. She’s probably even stoking her clit through her panties…

She interrupts my daydreaming with an equally stimulating answer. “No, I prefer my lovers with a dick.”

We are both in luck, because I just so happen have one of those growing in my pants as we speak. I’ll keep that large tidbit to myself though. Honestly I’m not even sure why we are having this conversation right now. But I know I don’t want to get off the phone yet.

“So what were you doing at a ladies’ night at the gay club?” I try to change back to a subject that won’t have me picturing her naked.

“The guys had a very interesting drunken conversation last night. It basically consisted of them debating if lesbians really only like women because they can’t get guys. So they decided to make a bet about who could get one into bed first.”

“Wow. They sound like idiots,” I say little too roughly, but douchebags like that make my skin crawl.

“Yeah, they are. They are also really are good guys, but total meatheads sometimes.”

“They don’t sound like meatheads. They sound like assholes,” I say very matter-of-factly. I have zero tolerance for ignorant tools like them.

“Hey, stop judging people you don’t even know. That makes you an asshole. They were just joking!” she yells, and I can tell that her hackles have risen. She must be pretty tight with these guys to get all mama bear over this. If she only knew what I really wanted to call them.

“My sister, Lindsey, has been happily married for over three years to a woman she has been with for over twelve years. Sorry, but I don’t find trolling for homosexual woman in an attempt to change them even the slightest bit humorous.”

“Shit,” she whispers to herself.

“Yeah, ‘shit’ about sums it up.”

“I’m so sorry, Caleb. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive. They were just being stupid.”

“It’s okay, Emma. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. However, I stand by my earlier description that they are assholes.”

“No, it’s not. I should have stopped them, but honestly it was hilarious watching women shoot them down over and over again. Both of them left with their tails firmly curled between their legs.”

“Well, at least they got put in their place.” I just wish it were me who had put them there.

“I got hit on a few times though.”

“Oh yeah? How’d you handle that?” I ask, sipping off my beer.

“I very kindly told them that I was straight then offered a compliment on their shoes, shirts, or hair. By the end of the night, I had quite a few friends.”

“I bet you had more than just a few friends,” I tease.

“Well I had more than the guys, that’s for sure.” She laughs before the phone goes quiet with uncomfortable silence. “So. You’ve been thinking about my ass?” she questions, referring to my outburst earlier.

“Ah, that. Yeah, that was the truth, but I’ll be happy to tell you it was a lie if it would make you more comfortable.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she boldly admits, surprising me once again. I can’t believe she is being this forward or…well, honest. But based on our earlier conversation, it’s not exactly like I’ve been good at hiding my attraction either.

“Shit, Em. That makes two of us.”

“This is going to be really bad, isn’t it?” she says quietly.

“Probably,” I answer shortly. It’s not exactly the truth. This is going to be far worse than bad. This is going to be epic proportions of horrible, but I still ask, “When are you coming back?”

“Hopefully late next week. Just depends how quickly I can get packed and finish the photos for my clients here before I leave.”

There is no doubt that this is going to end in disaster, but once again, I add fuel to the fire. “You want to meet for dinner or something when you get back?” I have no idea what I’m doing, but if she is going to be this open, then I am too.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” Once again, she sounds happy, and the seriousness fades from my voice too.

“I need to go before I have a chance to ask you something stupid, like the color of your bra,” I say, equally praying to God that she will and won’t answer.

“Nude,” she announces without hesitation.