Convenience and Compatibility (15 page)

I put down the iPad. “Yes.”

“I’m sad that we almost broke up at your
apartment.”

“Dean, I didn’t think we were going to break
up. Do you want to stop seeing me?”

“No. If we break up it will be because you
don’t want to be with me anymore.”

I put down my tea. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you are more educated than me and
want to go to Graduate school. Because my parents were assholes to
you. I wouldn’t blame you for walking away because of any or both
of those reasons.”

I take Dean’s coffee and put it on the table.
He looks surprised as I sit on his lap, straddling him.

“Let’s just see how this plays out with your
parents. I’m willing to have an open mind.” I take Dean’s hands and
put them on my ass. “I like it when you grab me here.”

“You’re trying to distract me Mallory.”

I give him a mischievous smile and kiss him
on the neck. “Why yes, I am.”

“Seriously, does it bother you that I never
finished school?”

“Honestly Dean, yes. Education is really
important to me.”

Dean frowns and I regret being so honest. It
broke my heart how sad he was last night; I never want to see him
like that again.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

Dean’s sadness comes through his eyes and I
notice for the first time that this is the gateway to his soul.

“Dean, I’m sorry. Really, you blow me away
with what you do, how you make a living. I really respect that. Not
everyone needs to go to college.” Dean says nothing. “Come on. What
are you thinking? Talk to me.”

“I’m scared I’m going to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m quite smitten.
Can’t you tell?”

Dean gives me a half smile and I continue.
“I’ve never been so attracted to someone – you blow me away.”

“Come on, let’s get dressed up and go out.”
Dean packs me on the cheek. “I’m going to hop in the shower. Care
to join me?” He raises an eyebrow at me and I laugh.

“Okay, let me finish up here and I’ll join
you in a few minutes.”

I roll off Dean and he goes upstairs while I
start picking up breakfast. I’m loading the dishwasher when there
is a knock on the door. I freeze – I’m pretty sure Dean didn’t
mention he was expecting someone. The rapping comes again, a little
louder this time. Dean barrels down the stairs, jumping two at a
time. His rushes around me and answers the door, half dressed with
a towel around his waist.

I stand in the kitchen, not sure if I should
go upstairs to give him privacy. Instead I stay rooted to the spot,
curious. Dean’s laughing now; talking with someone who has a deep
voice. He comes into the living room, with John following
behind.

“John!”

John rushes up to me, a huge smile on his
face. “Mallory!” He surprises me by giving me a big hug, pulling me
off my feet and squeezing me tight – man this guy is strong.

John puts me down and holds me at arm’s
length. “It is so nice to see you.”

“You too John.”

“He’s leaving tomorrow for France. I forgot
to call him back, and I wasn’t answering my phone today.” Dean
shrugs, explaining.

“Oh.”

Dean continues, “Do you mind if John joins us
tonight? Maybe for drinks? Dinner?” Dean looks at John who nods,
and then they look at me for approval.

“Of course. Sounds like fun!” And I really
mean it.

“Great! John, make yourself a drink and we’ll
get ready.” Dean looks happy now; the last fifteen minutes
forgotten. He takes my hand and I follow him upstairs to the
bedroom. When we are out of earshot Dean whispers to me, “Is that
okay? Are you sure?”

“Of course. But listen, I’ll understand if
you want to be alone with John.”

Dean shakes his head. “Hey, I’m sorry about
our little fight downstairs.”

Was that a fight? I give him a swift kiss and
start getting ready. Dean is a bit faster than me; I’m in my bra
and panties, putting on my makeup, when he comes into the bathroom
already dressed. He has dark creased jeans and a white button down
shirt on – untucked. He throws a black pullover on and comes up
behind me as I’m putting my mascara on in the bathroom mirror. I
look over at him in the mirror’s reflection. “What?”

Dean raises an eyebrow at me and caresses one
ass cheek with the palm of his hand. Uh, oh. I think I know
what.

My eyes follow Dean as he walks over to the
bathroom door; shutting and locking it. Oh shit, I think I’m going
to get dirty again. I put my mascara wand down, for I know what’s
coming next.

Dean comes up behind me and puts his hands
around my waist, his mouth on my neck. “A quickie, okay?”

I nod yes, and groan as he slips a hand down
the front of my panties, a finger inside me.

“You’re so wet.”

What Dean doesn’t know is that I’ve been
perpetually wet since we started going out - in varying degrees.
Foreplay is just being in his presence.

Dean nibbles at my neck and pushes his finger
in deeper, massaging my clit with his palm. I gasp and try to pull
his arm away – my clit is still so sensitive from last night. Dean
ignores me and grabs a boob with his other hand, pinching and
rolling my nipple between his fingers. Oh, I think I’m going to
come. I try to get Dean to stop, want to tell him that I need him
inside before I come, but my body takes over and I cry out while
orgasming around his hand. Wow, that didn’t take long.

Dean covers my mouth with one hand, trying to
stifle the sounds that I can’t help are coming out of me, while
holding me up tightly with his hand still inside my wet pussy. I’m
turned on with the gesture, the control he has over me, that I feel
myself coming again, this time harder. I cry out, not caring who
hears me as my hands grip the counter. Dean’s whispering in my ear,
but I’m lost in myself, what did he say? I come back to reality
while Dean repeats himself, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

Okay, okay. I nod. “Do it.”

My limbs are jelly now as Dean releases his
grip and turns me around, grabbing under my ass and lifting me onto
the counter. I rest my arms on his shoulders, wanting to lie down
while he fumbles with his pants for a moment, then moves my panties
to the side and thrusts himself inside me. My limbs wake up
suddenly and as Dean’s grinding rouses my clit. Dean is breathing
heavy into my neck, holding me at an angle with one arm on my back,
keeping me from sliding, with the other hand gripped around my
hips.

The position is uncomfortable, but it’s also
sexy: secretly fucking on the bathroom counter while company is
downstairs. Part of me feels like Dean is masturbating with my body
and I realize that surprisingly I like it. I like him using me.
Dean comes just as quickly as I did and holds me tighter, stifling
his cries into my hair.

He pulls out and holds me steady, still
sitting on the cold counter. He smiles now, still out of breath,
“That was amazing.”

“I agree, thanks for the orgasms.” This
produces an every bigger smile on his face – he knows that he is
The Man.

Dean helps me down from the counter. “Well
I’m going to be a little longer getting ready. Why don’t you make
me a drink and I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

“Okay.” Dean kisses me on the top of the head
and squeezes me in a hug. He takes a couple of breaths while
standing there, his mouth on my head. “Oh, Mallory.” He releases me
and cleans up quickly, then he leaves to join John downstairs.

I clean up the best I can without taking a
shower. My panties are full on wet; a mixture of pussy juice and
come. I make a mental note that I need to buy more sexy panties as
I seem to go through them a lot lately. I put on a black clingy
pencil skirt, tights, beige sweater and beige ankle boots. I pull
my hair in an ‘I just got fucked’ bun and head downstairs to join
the guys.

As I click my way down the stairs, the boys
are waiting on the sofa having drinks. They stand up when I walk
into the room. John whistles and Dean walks over to me, putting his
free hand around my waist. He leans down and whispers in my ear.
“You look amazing. Let’s go back upstairs.”

I push him away playfully and ask where my
drink is.

“Here you go baby, I made you something
sweet.”

“Thank you.”

John says something quickly in French and
Dean replies equally fast in French.

I open my mouth, surprised. “You speak
French?”

Dean smiles at me, “Of course, doesn’t
everyone?”

I roll my eyes and sit down next to him on
the couch.

“John just asked if we wanted to go upstairs
for a quickie.”

I look to John; shit, did he hear us? “And
what did you say?”

“I told him we already had.”

“Dean!” I feel my face get warm and I’m sure
I’m crimson.

“It’s okay, he’s a doctor.” Dean explains,
feigning seriousness.

I look over to John who’s nodding, trying to
suppress a smile.

I roll my eyes. “Well I can see it’s going to
be a fun evening. You two are hilarious.”

Chapter 13

Dean has his arm around me, but I feel like
the third wheel. The guys have many inside jokes – they’ve been
laughing practically the whole time this evening. It’s great to see
Dean so carefree; I sit nursing my drink at our table in the bar
and watch them while they endlessly laugh.

I get up and they stand up with me. “Sit
down; I’m just going to the bathroom. On my way back I’ll get more
drinks. Do you want another pitcher of beer?”

The boys nod and start laughing hysterically.
Did I say something funny? I roll my eyes and walk away.

On my way back from the bathroom I can see
them at the table, in what looks like a serious conversation. I
stop at the bar thinking that I will make my way back to the table
slowly, giving them some time to talk. I sit on a stool and wait
for the bartender to notice me.

“Well hi there!”

I turn to my right and see an attractive
blond man sitting on the bar stool to my right. I furrow my brows,
he looks familiar, but I can’t quite place him.

“Hello,” I say, with a hint of a question in
the greeting.

“Don’t you remember me? I had drinks with you
and your friend last week.”

I narrow my eyes at him, and then I remember.
“Harry! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you without your scrubs on.”

“Yea, well, I wasn’t working today.”

“Remind me what you do?”

Harry looks surprised as my question; I guess
he doesn’t get asked this a lot.

“I’m doing a medical residency at UW…
remember?” He answers like his IQ is much higher than mine. It
probably is, but I could give a fuck. This guy’s an asshole.

“Ah, yes.” I nod and turn my attention to the
bar. I want to get my drinks and get back to the table now. I can’t
believe my luck, running into him again.

“Is your friend here with you?” Harry scans
the room from the mirror behind the bar.

“Um, no. I’m here with my boyfriend.”

“So he does exist!” He says this really loud
and I feel my face go red as the people around us turn their
heads.

The bartender shows up and I order another
pitcher of beer and a cosmo. Harry continues as I’m waiting for the
drinks. “And where is he?” He’s fucking with me now, I can’t help
but laugh – this guy must be a surgeon. He’s brash and edgy, and
has seriously big balls. I’m betting he comes from a long line of
Harrys, probably all surgeons.

I look straight ahead, watching the bartender
mix the cosmo, “He’s sitting at the table in the corner.”

I see Harry move out of the corner of my eye.
He turns around and is now leaning on the counter. “Is he the white
guy or the black guy?”

I want to fuck with him, tell him that I’m
dating both guys, and that we have a ménage à trois set up later on
this evening. But that’s probably a bad idea and instead I answer
truthfully. “The white guy.”

“Hey, what’s his name?”

I look over and Harry is tapping his forehead
with his pointer finger. I’m pretty sure his question was
rhetorical and I watch him thinking. Does he know Dean?

“Is that Dean? Dean Collins?”

“Yea, how do you know him?” Harry doesn’t
answer as he’s already walking away from me, towards the table. Oh
shit, where’s the drinks? I’m scared Harry will say something
incriminating, even though I know I’ve done nothing wrong. I look
back to the table and Harry is already talking to Dean, who looks
to me and frowns. Oh shit. I must look like a deer in headlights;
the fear I feel spread all over my face.

“Here’s your drinks,” the bartender
interrupts my thoughts.

I grab the drinks and walk to the table
slowly, trying to decide from Dean’s body language if everything is
alright. Dean looks stiff and uncomfortable, and slightly pissed.
Harry is now sitting in my seat, talking with Dean. They look up
when I arrive.

“There you are!” Harry makes it sound like we
are long lost friends. I ignore him and grab an unoccupied chair
from nearby, sitting close to Dean. Dean doesn’t look at me.

Harry is talking about school and how Dean
should come back. But mostly, Harry is talking about Harry. Harry
sees someone in the bar and waves; he excuses himself not before
telling me how great it was seeing me again. I smile shyly at him
as Dean and John are looking at me, and then he is gone. I’m
seething inside – what a dick.

Dean turns to me. “How long have you known
him?”

“I don’t know him.” I spit back, and I’m
afraid I have come off a little too defensive. Dean is staring at
me with no emotion. I take a sip of my drink and continue, “One day
this week Tara and I went out after work and Harry and his friend,
Larry, sat down at our table. He was annoying, so we left.”

“What day was this?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know Dean. It was the night where
you didn’t answer your phone. Tuesday?”