Convenience and Compatibility (22 page)

I walk through the door
and into the
foyer, putting my bag down on the hardwood floor. Dean’s car is in
the garage, but I hear nothing.

“Dean?”

The door to the study is ajar; as I get
closer I can hear typing. I peek my head around the corner and Dean
is at the desk, the phone to his ear and working on his desktop. I
walk into the room and sit on the loveseat opposite him – the desk
between us. Dean looks up and smiles when he sees me, but gives me
no indication that he is wrapping up his work. I watch him stare at
the screen, his eyes scanning.

Dean hangs up the phone abruptly and motions
for me to come to him with a wave of his hand. I stand at the front
of the desk and wait for further instructions.

“No, come here.” Dean smiles but doesn’t look
up and pats his lap.

I walk around the desk and notice that Dean
has changed. He has on jeans and a T-shirt, no shoes. It looks like
he took a shower when he got home; he has a sexy messy look going
on with his hair. Dean pushes away from the desk so I have enough
room to sit on his lap.

“Mmmm, I like this dress. I haven’t seen this
before.”

Dean keeps his right hand on the computer’s
mouse while he glides his other up and down my leg. I feel myself
getting aroused and tighten my leg muscles. I want Dean to touch
me, but instead he tries to explain the graphs on the screen. I
could care less and put his hand between my legs.

Without stopping his explanation, Dean starts
rubbing. It feels wonderful and I want more. I try to turn around
but Dean holds me to him with both hands now, increasing the
intensity of the rubbing. I put my hand over his, pushing it into
me harder. My leg muscles tighten and I squeeze them together,
trapping his hand between my thighs. My breathing gets harder and I
hold onto Dean, feeling my orgasm just around the corner. Dean
abruptly halts and I look back at him over my shoulder, slightly
pissed that he has stopped.

Dean ignores me and pushes me slightly
forward, leaning back at the same time to pull the front of his
pants open. I look over my shoulder as his cock springs free. He
pushes my ass up so I am standing in front of him and glides his
hands up my sides, under my dress. I watch his face as he hooks his
hands into the top of my leggings. He slides them down slowly with
my panties, past my knees and gently bites my ass over my dress,
never breaking eye contact. It’s incredibly hot. He grabs my hips
again and pulls me slowly onto his cock – until all of him is
buried inside. Dean pulls my head back by the hair until my ear is
level with this mouth. “Don’t ever leave me again.” He says through
gritted teeth.

I lick my lips and nod as best I can. This is
fucking hot.

Dean then guides my body up and down, ever so
slowly. He teases me by pulling me almost all the way off, so the
tip is barely inside. Dean pauses, then slowly guides his silky
cock back inside. I try to push myself faster up and down, against
his hands, but he is too strong and I give up – frustrated.

Dean moves his hands so they are splayed
across my torso. He slowly stands up, my body still plastered to
his and his cock inside me, and he pushes me on top of his desk.
Dean holds me down, one hand on my head, the other on my back. Dean
moves at a frenzied pace now, and each thrust brings the contents
of his desk harder into my skin. I’m surprised that I’m so turned
on with this type of sex – but I like it, it turns me on in a way
that is so different from anything I’ve experienced before. I’m
thinking of the orgasm that I desperately want when Dean comes,
crying out my name. He collapses on me and then pulls away,
spattering come over my leg as he exits.

I lay there for a moment, still frustrated
and panting, and I hear Dean’s chair squeak as his sits down. I
pick my head up and turn it to look at him. Damn, that was hot.

He has a look of satisfaction on his face and
an “I just got fucked’ grin.

“Do you want some help up?” Dean laughs.

“No.”

I lift myself up and grab a couple of tissues
from the desk and sit down where his keyboard once was. I keep my
eyes on his while I put each of my feet on his knees and clean
myself up.

“Thank you for that, but you left me slightly
frustrated… and very messy.”

“Good.” He smirks.

Dean cleans up and I watch as he buttons his
jeans. “How am I supposed to get any work done today with you
here?” He teases.

“I don’t know but that was so fucking hot.” I
stand up and straighten myself the best I can. I must look
disheveled and very unsexy right now. “Do you have to work?”

Dean nods. “But I’d much rather fuck you in
the office all day.”

“Well I need a shower.” I start towards the
door and Dean grabs my hand. I look back and smile. He has the ‘I
want to fuck you’ look back on his face; his mouth slightly agape,
his eyes smoldering. I pull my hand out of his grip and walk away
without looking back. See how he likes to be frustrated.

I finish my shower and look through the
clothes I have in the closet. I really need to bring more outfits
over to Dean’s, there’s really nothing here to wear. I put on some
stretch pants and a loose fitting sweatshirt. I look in the mirror.
I feel frumpy compared to Dean who looks amazing in jeans and a
T-shirt.

I walk downstairs to make some lunch for Dean
and me. I get to the kitchen and notice that Dean has closed the
office door. He’s never done this before.

I make a plate of sliced fruit, cheese,
crackers and tomato soup. I set the dining table and stand at the
office door, not sure if I should knock. I decide instead to
text.

“Lunch is ready, want to join me?”

He responds right away. “Just give me a few
minutes.”

I sit down and look at the food while I wait.
I’m so hungry. After fifteen minutes I heat up my soup and start
eating. Dean can do the same when he comes out.

I’ve finished lunch and put everything away
by the time Dean opens the study door. I look at the clock and see
it was almost an hour ago when we texted. I’m sitting on the couch
and Dean comes over to me.

“I am so sorry, I got tied up with something.
Did you eat already?”

I nod. “No problem, but I put everything away
already.”

“That’s okay.”

Dean heats up the soup and my phone rings. I
dig my phone out of my purse and see that Mom is calling.

“Hi Mom.”

“Hi honey, just wanted to make sure you are
planning to have dinner here on Saturday. We’re going to have
everyone over for your birthday.”

My birthday, I’d completely forgotten. “Um,
ya Mom. I’ll be there.”

“Well don’t forget to bring Dean.”

“Yes, of course. What time do you want
us?”

Dean looks over at me and raises his
eyebrows.

“Five too early? You know Christina and Jacob
can’t stay too late because of the kids.”

“That’s right. Five will be great Mom.”

“Okay honey… I’m not sure if you can talk,
but how are things?”

“Good Mom.”

“Okay honey, love you.”

“Love you too, bye.”

I walk over and sit with Dean at the dining
table while he eats.

“So that was my mom. We are invited for
dinner on Saturday at five. I don’t think I told you, it’s my
birthday.”

“Your birthday! No, you didn’t tell me.”

“My sister and her family will be there as
well. Do you want to go?”

“Of course.”

“You turn twenty-five in July, right?”

“Yes, the first. I guess that means I’m
dating an older woman.”

“Haha, not by much.”

We sit in silence for a moment and I wonder
how I’m going to ask him about going out with Tara. I look down at
my hands and just begin.

“So, I usually go out with my friends for my
birthday. I think I’ll talk to Tara about Friday night. Do you want
to come with us?”

I look up and Dean is playing with his
soup.

“Is it alright if I don’t?”

“Sure.” I try not to sound disappointed. I
know he doesn’t like Tara or Adam, but I was hoping he would
overlook this distaste for my birthday. I text Tara quickly, asking
her about Friday and letting her know that Dean won’t be
coming.

“Is it just a girl’s night, or do guys come
too?”

“Oh, I’m sure Adam will be there. Maybe other
boyfriends, I don’t know. Whoever wants to go.”

“Will Greg be there?”

“I doubt it.”

“Does he ever come?”

“He was there last year – that’s when we
met.”

I glance up at Dean. His jaw is clenched and
his lips are pressed together. Whoops. I’ve said too much. I need
to remember to keep my comments about Greg to a minimum. I consider
trying to talk myself out of this one, but am pretty sure I will
just make things worse.

My phone pings and I see that Tara is on for
Friday.

“Was that Tara?”

“Yea, she says she’s on top of it. I’m
excited, it will be fun.”

Dean clears his plate and I think of
something to change the subject.

“Are you done working today?”

“No, I need to work until three. I’m sorry,
but now… well, I feel more pressure to make money.”

“Why’s that?” I turn and watch him as he
loads the dishwasher.

“Just the thing with my parents, nothing to
worry about. I need to get back.” Dean pecks me on the top of the
head and walks into the study, closing the door behind him.

I’ve noticed that he seems to get moody and
shuts himself off. I’m confused why he would feel that way today. I
look around his place and wonder what I should do for a couple of
hours. This really isn’t my home and I don’t feel completely
comfortable here without him.

I decide to take off and get a real pedicure;
the one I hastily gave myself last week looks like shit. Maybe I’ll
get a manicure as well. That should take a couple of hours. I text
Tara to see if she wants to join me.

When I’m ready to go I consider texting Dean,
but don’t want to bother him and instead leave a note on the
counter. I highly doubt he will see it before I return.

Tara and I meet at the nail salon on
University Ave. We sit next to each other in the oversize massage
chairs with gossip magazines on our laps. I sit back and close my
eyes as the technician starts on my feet. Ah, I needed this. After
working three twelve hour shifts, I should really do this every
week – I deserve it.

Tara gasps and I look up as she grabs my left
hand.

“Are you engaged?”

“Oh… yes. It just happened really.”

I know she is going to be mad that I didn’t
tell her right away, but what does she expect? She will be telling
me any moment that I am making a mistake.

I’m surprised when instead she gives me a
sideways look, then resumes her position in her chair.

“What Tara.”

“Nothing… I just think this is a
mistake.”

“What, you can get engaged, but I can’t?”

“No… Adam and I have been going out for over
a year. You just met Dean.”

“There is no set prescription for dating
length and acceptable marriage proposals.”

“When are you getting married?”

“I don’t know yet. We haven’t talked about
it.”

“Humph.”

I lay my head back and close my eyes again.
This little outing was supposed to be fun and a stress-reducer. Ah,
Tara. I can see now that I can have only one of them in my life:
Dean or Tara. And of course I choose Dean.

I feel my phone vibrate and ignore the call.
Probably just work wanting me to come in. I’m already working
overtime this week, just as I did last. Thank goodness this is the
last week of this horrendous schedule and I’ll go back to just
three days per week. The money will be nice – I should go shopping
to buy some nice clothes with the money. Something other than
scrubs.

I open my eyes and look over at Tara. We have
known each other for a long time and I know she means well. This is
just an end of an era – honestly, it’s hard on both of us. Pretty
soon we will both be married and won’t have time for each
other.

“Tara, please be happy for me.”

She looks over and shrugs her shoulders.
“I’ll try.”

I realize that this is the best I’m going to
get and I change the subject.

“Who do you think will go out on Friday?”

“You’re just going to have to wait and see.”
Tara rubs her hands together like an evil character in a Disney
movie.

I roll my eyes. “Okay.”

My phone rings again and I check it this
time. I see it’s Dean and I block the call. Instead I text him
back.

“What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

“Did you read the note on the counter?”

A minute later Dean responds. “Oh, okay. Have
fun. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Wow, he’s going to be a little neurotic about
me leaving for a little while. Maybe I should have texted him
before I left. I think this will end as time goes on and he trusts
me a little better.

Tara and I talk easily the rest of the spa
treatment. We laugh effortlessly and she tells me about wedding
ideas. As long as I steer clear of any mention of Dean, we get
along like old times. I really miss her and invite her to have a
drink before we go home.

“You never know, we may run into Larry and
Harry again.” I tease.

We burst into giggles and link our arms
together, walking down the Ave. We duck into a bar just a block
down the street. It’s located down a steep and narrow stairwell to
a dank basement - very Seattle. It’s happy hour and we order $4
lemon drops.

I want to tell Tara how I ran into Harry last
week, but then I would have to mention Dean – maybe another time
when she accepts our relationship. I feel old looking around at the
college students drinking and playing pool. Was that just a few
years ago? I’m nearly twenty-five and I feel old already. I make a
mental note not to go to a college bar again.