Page 77 of Devil in Disguise
Owen’s hand on her now, pinching in a rhythm. Not gentle. Insistent. Demanding. Owen’s deep voice, warring with the announcer’s, as strong as if he were on that field. “Come on, Dyma. You know this is the price. Time to pay.”
“Akers gets the snap off, and it’s a … no! Play-action! Morrow keeps it! And what a block! Bodies flying everywhere! He stretches, and he’s …over!”
She was shaking. And then she was there. Her mouth open, her arms stretching, her body shuddering. And Owen, emptying into her with a long, anguished groan.
“Touchdown!” the announcer shouted. “They’ve done it! What a finish! The Packers have won the game!”
* * *
They ended up in bed,of course. He carried her up there. Seemed like the least he could do.
Dyma said, “Well, that was special.”
“Yep.” He yawned. He felt good. “It was, wasn’t it?”
She crawled her way up over him, kissed his mouth, and said, “I couldn’t believe you’d actually do it.”
He opened one eye and studied her. “Tell me we’re not having another talk.”
They were. “Just … why? OK, I’d have thought maybe you’d swat with yourhand,like in your dirty little story you told me,but aflogger?OwenJohnson?What’s next, the cattle prod?”
He decided to close his eyes again, rest them a little. “Yeah, well, I have big hands. I’m strong. I couldn’t figure out how to do it without risking hurting you. So I figured … props. And can we go to sleep now? I played this football game today. Changed a diaper. Handled drama.”
“Spanked a woman.”
“Yep.” He gave a long sigh and held her tighter. She wanted to sleep on top of him? Worked for him. “That, too.”
33
The Value of Eating
Dyma was havinga dinner date with her trusty Thermodynamics textbook a week later when Pavani slid into the seat opposite and announced, “Good news! My parents want you to come to dinner!”
“You’re kidding.” You could say that Pavani’s parents hadn’t been jumping up and down to let Dyma move in.Avery’sparents loved her, or his mom did—possibly because she hadn’t wrecked their car, and Annabelle had even helped her clean the interior before she’d headed back to Seattle, hopefully reducing the dim sum smears. Or maybe it was because when shehadbrought the car back to their extremely fancy and very modern house, she’d shown his mom the picture of tiny, helpless Nick wearing only a diaper and with the cast on his leg, being snuggled against Jennifer’s skin while Harlan sat on the hospital bed beside her with the kind of look on his face that caused women to spontaneously ovulate.
Avery’s mom, whose name was Lauren, put a hand on her chest and said, “Oh. He’s beautiful. And the baby’s not bad either.” Which made Dyma laugh out loud with sheer surprise, after which Lauren said, “I’m joking. He’s unbearably sweet. It must have been hard to leave them.”
Dyma’s throat closed some, but she managed to say, “Yeah. He’s … it was …” And wondered how you explained that you wanted your turn to change your baby brother’s diapers and give him his sponge bath. That Annabelle would be there to do it, and even Owen would be there to do it, but she was so far away. Also that being with them again had made her miss her mom so much. And Annabelle.
AndNick.
Anyway, all that out-of-control emotion had earned her a drop-off at the dorm from Lauren, and a promise that, “Next time we take Avery for dim sum, we’ll take you, too, hey? You’re a good influence. More studying, fewer video games.”
“Only because the video games kind of made me crash and burn on my midterms,” Dyma confessed in the sort of spontaneous burst of confidence that tended to happen under the influence of endorphins, or whatever you called two bouts of seriously orgasmic sex with the hottest man you’d ever known in your life, followed by a couple hours of anxious waiting for a one-day-old’s surgery to be finished, and then the sight of that one-day-old being lifted to his mother’s breast like that was all anybody had ever wished for. She added, “I got a C minus in Thermodynamics. I’ve never even gotten aCbefore. Not in mylife.I told my mom, because she’s helping me pay for school—well, her, my student loans, my job, which is in the dining hall, so you know, not any kind of fancy internship, and a scholarship—and she said, ‘Oh, that must have felt horrible. What happened?’ in this really understanding voice, which made me feel ten times worse.”
“Huh,” Lauren said. “Not Chinese. A Chinese mother says, ‘What is this? This is unacceptable.’ And then we talk about shame.”
Dyma laughed again. “Hey, whatever works. I got the message. Because—shame. And the scholarship. Nothing like good old-fashioned fear to motivate you. Also a lot of years spent in the food-service industry. I need that degree.”
Lauren sighed. “Such a pity you’re not Chinese.”
So, yeah. If she’d been asking to beAvery’sroommate, it would’ve been different. Well, not to Owen, but otherwise. Pavani’s parents, though, were apparently immune to her charm, because she was still in Mean Girl Hell. Of course, she didn’t care as much anymore, so that helped. It still wasn’t huge fun to live with people who let you know that they couldn’t stand you.
Oh. Pavani. She told her, “That’s awesome. Also, I love Indian food, and I lovevegetarianIndian food even more, obviously.”
“Well, then,” Pavani said, “you’ll be excited, I guess.”
“So, when?” Dyma asked.
