dash

“So, I had a nice long chat with your mom,” I say, my jaw clenching as I swing the door open.

“Oh, my God, Dash,” she starts awkwardly as she peers up at me from my doorway. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, honestly surprised that her expression appears so genuine. “I mean, I wish you would have helped me some, but whatever.”

“How the hell was I supposed to help you?” she asks, throwing her arms out dramatically as she walks inside my apartment, pushing the door shut behind her. “It’s not like I was just sitting over there laughing at you. I had my own problems.”

“No, you had Mason, who is thankfully clueless and fell asleep fifteen minutes after the drink cart went through,” I argue. “Meanwhile, I’ve got your mother reenacting the fucking Spanish inquisition on my ass.”

“I’m sure you’re being incredibly over-dramatic,” she rolls her eyes before she diverts her gaze, taking in her surroundings, seeming to be surprised that I actually live in a nice place. “My mom loves you. She’s not our problem here.”

“Well, you wouldn’t fuckin’ know it by the conversation we had,” I shake my head, leaning against the bar and crossing my arms over my chest. “And how would you know if I was overreacting or not? I glanced over at the end of the first hour and you were reading.”

“I still have no idea what you expected me to do,” she says quietly. “Even if Mason was asleep, I was blocked in against the window. I couldn’t risk waking him up and even if I could have gotten over there, what the hell was I supposed to do, Dash? We were on a freaking airplane!”

“If I had done that to you, you would have cussed me out for a month,” I counter.

“No, I wouldn’t have.”

“Baby, you’ve been cussing me out for twelve years for no fucking reason,” I deadpan. “Do you really expect me to believe you would be fine with me just throwing your ass to the wolves like that?”

“Threw you to the wolves,” she rolls her eyes, kicking her shoes off and facing me. “Where’s your kitchen, drama queen?”

“Right in there,” I gesture, following her as she moves through my apartment and pulls the refrigerator open. “And you did throw me to the wolves. You gave me a ten second warning, laughed when your mom slapped me and then threw me in a corner with her for two hours!”

“Come on,” she smirks, glancing up at me as she pulls a few things out and starts rooting through my cabinets, pulling out a plate. “You have to admit, her smacking you was hilarious.”

“That shit hurt,” I argue, making her laugh. “It’s not funny, Evie.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Whatever,” I shake my head, watching her make herself at home, putting together a sandwich and washing her hands. “I still think you owe me an apology.”

“I’m not apologizing, Dash,” she says bluntly, drying her hands and grabbing a beer out of the fridge.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Not at all,” she shakes her head, moving toward her purse and pulling a bill from her wallet before walking out of the kitchen and leaving me standing there, gaping at her nerve.

“Are you serious?” I ask, turning to storm back into the living room where she’s sitting in my favorite chair, turning on my flat screen and ignoring my rage.

What the fuck is happening right now?

“Evie!” I rail, my blood boiling as I take in the scene unfolding before me.

“Yeah?” she says, her voice bored as she leans forward and scrolls through the channels, never giving me her eyes.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask sarcastically.

“No, thanks,” she smiles, gesturing toward the plate and beer on the table beside her. “I’m all set, baby.”

I stare at her, move my attention back to the television and then back to her once more before I lose it.

“What the fuck?” I shout. “Are you even fucking listening to me?”

“Of course,” she says, settling on a channel and placing the remote to the side, standing to face me. “You’re upset because I didn’t give you enough notice that my mom found out about us and you feel like on top of that, I should have done more to help you get out of an awkward situation with her. Does that cover it?”

“Pretty much,” I admit, the fury filling my chest slowly dissipating now that I know she’d at least been listening to me bitch. “And I think you should apologize.”

“Well, although I understand your point, I still think this is a stupid argument,” she says bluntly. “I think it’s unreasonable for you to expect an apology, because there was literally nothing I could do. That being said it’s obviously important to you.”

“Yes, it is,” I nod, folding my arms over my chest, waiting for the apology that in my opinion, was both late and much deserved.

“Well, I’m not sorry and I’m not a liar,” she says, sending my fury back up a level.

“How can you even say…”

“But!” she talks over me, making my jaw clench. “I also was planning to come over later and I don’t really feel like fighting with you all night, so sit.”

“I don’t want to sit.”

“Trust me. You want to sit.”

“No, Evie, I don’t.”

“Just sit the hell down!” she shouts. “Jesus! You’re so annoying!”

“Yeah, well you’re a huge pain in my ass!” I challenge. “I’m a grown ass man. Stop telling me what to do!”

“Well, if you’d sit the fuck down instead of arguing with me, maybe I would,” she grounds out through clenched teeth. “Just because I don’t want to spend the night fighting with you doesn’t mean I won’t, Dash. You can either sit down and have a good night or stand up and have a bad one. You pick.”

I stare back at her, shaking my head as my jaw begins to tick in annoyance and finally release a long, low breath of frustration.

“God, you are so lucky you’re good looking,” I finally say, reluctantly falling back into my chair. “Because your personality really sucks sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah, back atcha,” she rolls her eyes, unmuting the television, turning the volume up on the football game she’d settled on and gesturing toward the table beside me. “That’s yours.”

I glance over, finding the sandwich, the cold beer and a crisp ten dollar bill beside the plate.

“Here,” she says, bending to pull the lacy thong she’d been wearing under her skirt from her heel and setting it in my hand, making me do a double take.

“What are you doing?” I ask, watching her sink to her knees, pulling at my belt and unzipping my jeans.

“Not apologizing,” she replies, tugging the back of my legs a little so I’ll scoot lower before she pulls her hair up into a ponytail. “I have shit to do today. Please don’t get mustard in my hair.”

Before I can say anything else, she grips me in her hand and lowers her head, the end of her tongue tracing the end of my stiff cock. I’m in shock, trying to process what’s just happened when she wraps her full lips around me and takes me into her mouth.

“Oh, my God,” I hum, the anger a distant memory as her tongue swirls around me.

She reaches over, never slowing her movements as she lifts my beer bottle, handing it to me. When I take it from her, she uses one hand to grip my waist and sinks even further into my lap, taking me deeper, the tip of my dick grazing the back of her throat.

“Jesus Christ…” I groan, winding her ponytail around my fist and my senses go into overdrive.

My mind is reeling and it’s not long before I’m panting hard as she moans around my cock.

“Evie, I’m about to come,” I warn her, my voice a low pant as she raises up slightly, her hand still moving over my shaft.

“Come in my mouth, baby,” she husks, immediately pulling me back into her mouth.

Fuck.

It’s only seconds before I feel myself on the verge, gripping her hair tighter. The low whimper leaving her chest only spurs me on and in the next minute, I’m filling her mouth with a long, low growl tainted with profanity.

I release my grip on her hair and watch as she swallows, slowly working her way back up my shaft, waiting for me to finish before she begins to sit back on her feet, facing me.

Her eyes meet mine and we’re both panting as she wipes her lips clean with the back of her hand.

“We good?”

“Yeah,” I nod, my chest still heaving as I remember my beer, taking a sip. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Cool,” she says, standing and leaning over to take a bite from my sandwich before she replaces it and grabs her purse, hoisting it back onto her shoulder. “I have a nail appointment. I’ll see ya later.”