Page 70 of Grease Monkey
“Did you know she was coming?”
“Who?”
“Your fucking sister. Couldn’t have picked up the phone to say, ‘Hey, man, my bitch of a sister is heading to your neck of the woods. Be on the lookout?’” I spit, and I know it’s a dick move blaming Skip for Morgana’s appearance, but rational doesn’t have a meaning with how I’m feeling right now.
“Wow, Teddy. Say that again. Morgana’s in Phoenix? Why?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Scrubbing a hand down my face, I try to breathe. “Her car broke down, and it’s sitting in my lot right now, waiting to be fixed.”
Skip exhales loudly down the phone. “Shit, man. I’m sorry. I would have called to give you the heads-up if I had known. But you know I’ve not spoken to her for as long as you have. Unless I really needed to.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me, and stop my thundering march a couple of shops down from the auto shop to lean against the brick wall. Skip and I are an unlikely friendship after the shit with Morgana went down. One day, he called saying he’d heard of this new restaurant he’d wanted to try, and asked if we’d like to join him and, well, a rant and a few choice words about his family, and we bonded. I told him all about being blindsided by Morgana’s text, and he told me why he no longer talks to his parents. To say the Adlers are fucked up is an understatement.
“Yeah, I know,” I sigh. “Listen, I’m sorry. Seeing her… it was unexpected and messed with my head.”
“What did she say when she realized it was you?”
I laugh humorlessly and rub at the back of my neck. “She knocked over a stack of tires.”
He barks a laugh. “She always was clumsy.”
“Yeah, probably didn’t help that I was almost balls-deep in some girl.”
“Dude. Epic man points there,” he sniggers, and I hear a bell ringing through the phone. “She would not have liked that. But they say payback’s a bitch.”
Yeah, too bad as soon as I saw her and the sadness in her eyes, the gratification of her seeing me with another woman, basking in the hurt I always hoped she’d feel, didn’t come like I always thought it would. Instead, it stirred old memories of her catching me with my pants around my ankles and my dick downwhat’s-her-name’sthroat and suddenly the same feeling of wishing it was Morgana’s lips around me as I had felt back then; I wanted Claudia to be her too.
For fuck’s sake.
I quickly say goodbye to Skip, letting him know I’ll keep him posted.
She’s still inside when I get back, her soft and sweet laughter echoing around the forecourt as I storm past them and into the back office, slamming the door behind me. My sad and pathetic dick perks up as the smell of citrus twinges at my nose, the condom still clinging to it for dear life, hoping it will still see some action.
Did Ozzy bring her in here too? Or is this some sort of torment now she’s slow close and I can’t touch her.Can’ttouch her? Not can’t.More like will never, ever, ever touch her again, you fucking idiot.
My dick doesn’t agree as it swells in my pants.
“Don’t fucking think about it,” I mutter, pointing to the treacherous thing like it has ears, but does my warning stop it from thickening up faster than it ever has with any other woman? No, the fucker is harder than granite, and I know the only way it’ll calm the fuck down is to jerk it.
Well, over my dead body will I come thinking about her. No fucking way.
I reach into my pants and roughly tug the condom off, the latex snapping the tip of my dick, and I hiss, hating and loving the little sting of punishment at my reaction to Morgana. Balling it up in a tissue, I chuck it in the trash before pacing my office, cracking my knuckles as the walls draw closer and closer with each pound of my boots. Knowing she’s out there, close enough that I could touch her, has my racing pulse spiking higher, the muscles in my legs tightening and quivering with pent-up energy, and my chest heaving uncontrollably.
How the fuck can she still affect me like this?
The office door opens, and Ozzy saunters in with a stupid shit-eating grin on his face. It drops when his eyes meet mine, replaced by something I’ve never seen him wear before.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls, stalking toward me, arms held wide. “Getting sucked off in the office after hours is one thing, Teddy. Butfuckingsome girl just before we open isn’t okay. We could get shut down for that shit.”
My eyes snap to his, rage bleeding from every cell in my body. “What about you, huh?” His lip lifts in confusion. “Flirting with the customers?”
It is not the same as getting caught with my pants around my ankles by the bitch who ruined me. But it’s the hill I’m prepared to die on.
“Are you for real? I didn’t have Ana’s skirt around her waist about to sink my cock—”
My arm bands across his chest in a heartbeat, pushing him back and slamming him against the wall. Our noses nearly touch as I pant in his face like some deranged psychopath, jealousy and possessiveness and hatred fighting for dominance deep inside my veins.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I sneer. Ozzy’s eyes widen, shock palpable at the way I’ve never spoken to him before. As quickly as I take him off guard, he’s back in control, shoving at my chest and breaking my hold, and I stumble backward.
