I let out a huff of air and clutch the white sheets.
“All those fruit and vegetable bits, all that sticky lime Jell-O, I’m going suck on you, I’m going to suck so hard because there’s whipped cream in there too. You love whipped cream.”
My hips involuntarily tilt up and I stifle a moan. Because the way he says whipped cream, all low and deep and sexy, means he’s not talking about whipped cream at all.
Gah.
I blink up at the bright light in the ceiling and clasp the white bedsheets. Josh leans in closer and his breath flutters my hair and his lips brush my earlobe.
A little sound escapes from my lips.
My eyes are closed. My body is aching and hot and my hips are tilted. There’s a pool of warmth growing in me and all I need, all I need is for Josh to keep talking dirty to me.
Josh makes a noise of approval and then he says, “And when I’ve sucked and licked and eaten my fill I’m going to…”
“Yes?”
“To…”
I open my eyes. Josh stares down at me, his eyes are caught on my mouth. I lick my lips and I swear I can taste lime.
He leans forward, closer, closer. My stomach flips and I stare up at him, caught by the look in his eyes.
My word.
He’s going to kiss me.
Josh Lewenthal is going to kiss me.
He draws closer and my heart thunders in my ears.
I want him. I need him. I— “Boy toy? I heard that boy toy. Where is he?” A man booms.
Josh rears back and looks around the small curtained area.
My hand flies to my mouth and my eyes go wide.
Un-freaking-believable. It’s the gold unitard lady and her husband.
“You heard nuthin’，” the woman says.
Oh jeez. They’re right next door. They’re on the bed next to ours.
Josh sits upright and looks at me, his eyes full of shock and yes, laughter.
I put my finger to my lips and shake my head.
He better not start laughing. I scowl at him, because now that he’s not about to kiss me I feel achy and deprived and really, really cranky that he got me turned on with his bull crap lime Jell-O farce.
“I did hear him. He was telling you he was going to suck you and lick you and eat your cream. Was he on your phone?”
Josh snorts and then cuts it short. I shush him and wave my hand for him to be quiet.
We are literally three feet from these crazy people with only a thin piece of fabric separating us. Didn’t he learn his lesson last time? You can’t reason with crazy.
“No, he wasn’t on my phone. He ain’t here.”
“You told him to call you. I heard him saying he’d lick your cream. I’m telling you, baby, I’ll punch that boy toy in the face.”
Josh was trying to hold in a snicker, but when he hears the ham-armed husband threatening to punch him he stops looking amused.
“Is he here?” Ham-Arm asks.
“You’re crazy,” Gold Unitard says.
On that, we agree.
“I’m gonna find him,” the husband says.
There’s a shuffling noise and then I see black shoes stomping around on the other side of the curtain. I glance at Josh and you better believe he looks concerned.
He rubs his forehead and I think he’s remembering the “private parts” painting smashing down on his head.
“Gemma,” he whispers. He stands up and looks at the curtain.
I shush him and shake my head. Then I have an idea. I lift up the sheet. “Get under,” I hiss.
He gives me a confused look.
“Get under there,” I whisper.
He raises his eyebrows. Yes, I’m inviting him to climb in bed with me.
“Desperate times,” I whisper.
And of course, of course, he can’t let an opportunity for a good joke to pass him by because he says, “But where’s the Jell-O?”
I smack my head, and just at that moment the curtain that separates our bed from the one next to us rips back with a metallic screech.
Mr. Ham-Arm stands there with a triumphant look on his face.
“We don’t got Jell-O. We just got knuckle sandwiches,” the guy says, and to emphasize the point he smacks his fist into his hand.
Josh can’t help himself, really he can’t, because at the phrase “knuckle sandwich” he lets out a sharp laugh.
Ham-Arm isn’t having any of it. “You tell my lady you want her cream? You don’t get her cream. You don’t get her Jell-O. You sick pervert. You stay out of my lady’s business. She’s getting pregnant.”
Oh jeeeeeez. Why? Why?
Josh lifts his hands in a calming gesture.