SWNOVELS The Penalty Box: Chapter 8
I STALKED to my car and got inside. Holy fuck. What had just happened? I covered my mouth with one hand as my mind replayed what I had just seen.
Baby fucking Krista, wearing that scrap of lace, had looked like a man’s wet dream. My dick was throbbing hard while lust pulsated through my body.
That had caught me completely off guard. Jesus. Those breasts with creamy, milky skin and a hint of nipple that begged to be sucked. I had almost lost my head when I saw her standing there.
And when she had walked towards me, hips casually swaying, her breasts jiggling with each step, I had thought for sure she was coming towards me to get something started.
When I realized that she was reaching for my hoodie, I had instinctually taken a step towards her. To do what? To unwrap that body like it was my own personal gift?
I groaned and looked at the front of my house. I forced myself to start my car and back out of the driveway. Charlie was off-limits. She was here to help me get out of a mess. She was not here as my own personal plaything.
I shook my head, still in disbelief. How had I never noticed how fucking perfect her body was? Now that I knew that, how much would it screw with my head? I needed to remember that she was here in name only. Because nothing would mess up this situation faster than if we became physically involved.
I TOOK my time getting groceries, trying to think my way through this situation I found myself in. Charlie and I were stuck living together. When we made this agreement, I had thought we would live as roommates. When her house had burned down, she became someone that needed my help.
I didn’t even see her as a friend. She had been an extension of Krista and part of a plan to get me out of my current mess.
But seeing her body on display like some hedonistic goddess, I had to rethink who Charlie was.
Off-limits. She’s off-limits.
I felt almost duped by the fact that I had never noticed her before. For two years, layers of baggy work clothes had hidden her body, and she had shielded herself with a sharp tongue and sarcastic tone. I needed to remember the old Charlie and completely erase the siren vision now burned onto my retinas.
When I came back with groceries, she came out of the bedroom, fully covered up in a pair of leggings and my hoodie. I had just spent thousands of dollars on her new wardrobe, but she chose to wear my oversized hoodie. That amused me. Which made no sense. I studied her as she peeked into one of the grocery bags. She looked damn cute. Her curly hair was tangled down her back, and I resisted the urge to push my hands into it.
“Can I help put things away?” Her tone was friendly and casual, but she avoided eye contact.
“Sure.”
We worked silently together, unpacking the groceries. I watched as she bent over, giving me a money shot of her ass.
I wondered if she might be still wearing that white lacy thing beneath her clothes. The thought was hot. I wanted to cross the kitchen, push up my hoodie and see for myself.
I wasn’t used to being around someone I couldn’t touch. When I desired a woman, I dated her. When I dated a woman, I enjoyed fucking her.
Now I was about to marry Charlie and I couldn’t touch her. It was messing with my head.
Everything was uncharted territory. I didn’t quite know how to handle her or this situation. Should we cook together? Or fend for ourselves? I had envisioned this situation as two roommates who were polite and respectful of each other and who publicly came together as a fake couple only when required. Not a couple that cooked together.
My phone pinged with a text.
Ryan: You around?
His text felt like a lifeline.
Me: Want to go for dinner?
Ryan: Yeah. Right now?
Me: Yes, want to meet at Bob’s Burgers?
Ryan: Heading out now. See you soon.
I shoved my phone in my back pocket and spoke to Charlie, not sure why I felt the need to explain myself. “I’m going out.”
She didn’t react. She just kept pulling items out of the bag. “Have fun.”
I should have been relieved at her independence, but it kind of stung that she seemed so indifferent.
I ran my hand through my hair, having absolutely no idea why I couldn’t decide how I felt.
“Have a good night.”
FOUR HOURS LATER, I was hammered. Ryan had nursed a beer all night, and I had taken the fact that I was suspended as an opportunity to drink myself into oblivion. I spilled out the whole sordid mess about being on Ashford’s shit list and Krista’s master plan to get me married. I didn’t mention the issues with Yazimoto or Andrusha’s alternate life, but I talked in fits and starts about how the last few days had been.
Ryan took it all in stride. “Charlie’s a good person. I like her.”
Everyone seemed to like her. I didn’t know her. I thought about her in that lacy teddy. “She usually calls me on my shit.”
Ryan laughed. “Undeserved?”
I shook my head. “Nope. She calls it like she sees it. And she’s usually right.”
Ryan’s look of amusement was evident. “That sounds like someone you’ve never dated.”
“Married,” I corrected. “We’re getting married.”
He tossed some money on the table. “I need to get home. Early practice tomorrow morning. Want me to give you a lift home?”
I shook my head. “I’m going to call Charlie.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I can drive you.”
For some reason, I wanted to see her. “She won’t mind.”
She would mind. It’d probably annoy the hell out of her, but that would not stop me.
Ryan grinned as he patted me on the shoulder. “This is going to be so interesting.”
“What is?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. Say hi to Charlie for me.”
I waited until he left before I ordered her a cab and then dialed her number.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded sleepy.
“Charlie, I need your help.”
Her voice sounded more alert. “What?”
“I need you to take a cab to where I am and drive my car home for me.”
She didn’t even question that skewed logic. Wouldn’t it be simpler for me to take a cab home?
Instead, she answered, “I’ll call a cab.”
“There’s one on the way.”
I WAITED OUTSIDE for her cab to arrive. When she got out, I paid for her ride and then we walked without speaking to my Porsche. I watched as she got in the driver’s seat and then froze when she looked between us.
“I forgot this is a standard. I only know how to drive an automatic.”
“I’ll teach you.”
She took forever to figure out how to adjust the seat before she turned back to me. “We could take an Uber.”
“Foot on the clutch and the other foot on the brake.” I leaned forward and pushed the ignition button. The car reverberated with power beneath us.
She clutched the steering wheel with both hands, showing white knuckles. “This is a mistake.”
“You can do it.”
“Your week will get way worse if I crash your car.”
I reached over and shifted the car into first gear. “You’re not going to crash. Now take your foot off the brake. Slowly give the car gas and at the same time, slowly take your foot off the clutch.”
She did what I instructed, and the car jerked forward in a bunny hop motion before it stalled.
Her voice was a wail. “I can’t do this.”
To be honest, I didn’t give a shit about my car. I wanted her to believe in herself. She would learn to drive a stick shift even if it cost me my transmission.
“Yes, you can.” I shook the gear shift loose. “Start over.”
TEN MINUTES LATER, we were crawling over the Burrard Street bridge with a convoy of pissed-off drivers behind us.
She hadn’t given up, and she was doing it. I enjoyed needling her. “You can go more than 30 kilometers an hour.”
Stress made her tone caustic. “Shut up, Petrov.”
I laughed, not caring that cars were honking as they blew past us. They could all piss off.
“Why did you make me drive?” She was clutching the steering wheel like her life depended on it. “Why couldn’t we take an Uber home?”
“Variety.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Okay, we’re going to gear up here a bit. Same thing. Clutch.” I shifted the gears for her. “Now more gas.”
She made a cute little noise in her throat as the car leaped forward. “I hate you, and I hate your car.”
I lazily studied her. She was still wearing my hoodie. I had a vision of her wearing that lace thing with just my hoodie over top, and my brain almost melted.
“You buy any more outfits like that?” The words came out of me with no filter. I had no business asking her this, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I… yes. I will pay you back.”
I didn’t give a shit about the money, but the question crossed my mind why she was buying lingerie that screamed sex. We had no plans on becoming intimate, which made me wonder if she had someone else in mind when she had purchased those things. The thought pissed me off.
My voice hardened. “Who are you planning on wearing those for?”
“They’re just for me.”
I could live with that. “Good.”
She glanced at me, but she didn’t speak.
“What else did you buy?” The words blurted out of me again.
What the hell, Petrov?
Her voice sounded slightly breathless. “Some different colors. Some are more racy. There’s one with feathers.”
My mind went to that place, imagining her naked with a few strategically placed feathers.
What I meant to say was good for you. Instead, I said, “Tell me about the feathers.”
That made her turn to look at me again. “What do you want to know?”
Where are the feathers?
I cleared my throat, working to sound casual. “Just making conversation.”
“You’re drunk,” she accused.
“I’m not sober,” I admitted.
We drove three more blocks in silence. Then she said, “It’s pink with lots of straps and some feathers around the cleavage and… other places.”
Alcohol pumped through my veins, but my hardening cock hadn’t got the memo. “Oh yeah? Sounds nice.”
It sounded more than nice. It sounded fucking hot.
She made a little humming noise. “I shouldn’t have bought them, but they made me feel… feminine.”
She was killing me.
“You deserve nice things.” I meant it.
She geared down without my help as she pulled onto our street. “I did it. I’m driving a stick.”
That’s not the only stick I want you to drive. I bit my tongue to keep from sharing that crude thought. I watched as she carefully pulled into my driveway before turning off the engine.
We sat in silence together for a long moment, neither of us moving.
“We should keep this platonic,” I said out loud, more for my benefit than hers.
Her eyes widened as she turned to look at me, but she didn’t respond.
“I mean, it’d mess things up if we did something we shouldn’t.” I forced myself to stop talking.
She chewed on her bottom lip but she still didn’t speak.
I need to shift gears, get her out of my brain and put her firmly in the friendship category. “Glad we cleared that up.”
“Me too.” She sounded breathless.
Neither of us made a move to get out of the car.
“Thanks for picking me up.”
“Thanks for all your help.”
“Are you going to be okay with all of this?” I meant our marriage and pretending to be with me.
She nodded, flushing hard.
I needed to get out of this car before I did something stupid like kiss her. So, fighting the instinct to pull her over the seat onto my lap, I instead got out of the car.