“You won’t,” I promised.

“You’re standin’ there tremblin’, scared outta your fuckin’ skull even though I’d never fuckin’ hurt you, tellin’ me what I wanna hear. How do I believe you?”

“Um…” I treaded cautiously but pointed out, “You did kind of drag me to your house in the middle of the night.”

“We need to work this shit out,” he stated in a way that made it clear that he thought dragging me to his house was a perfectly natural thing to do.

“We could have maybe done it over coffee or something,” I carefully suggested an alternative.

“Yeah? Last four times I spoke to you, you acted like a bitch, told me to fuck off, told me you hated me, you gonna have coffee with me now?”

“I make pancakes every Sunday morning, you’re welcome to come over,” I offered.

I didn’t actually want him to come over, I wanted him to let my arm go and I wanted to get the fuck out of there.

“Don’t be scared of me, Violet,” he warned.

“That’s kind of hard when you’re bein’ scary, Joe,” I explained.

When I told him this, instantly he let me go and stepped back.

Then he growled, “Go home.”

I just stood there, staring at him in the dark.

Then hesitantly, sounding stupid, I asked, “Are you coming over for pancakes?”

“Yeah, buddy, I’ll be over to your house for fuckin’ pancakes,” he clipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure you can’t wait.”

“Joe –”

“Go home.”

“Joe –”

“Go home, Violet.”

“I kind of need my remote,” I whispered.

He didn’t move so I did, taking a cautious step toward him my hand lifted, palm up. He didn’t put the remote in my hand. Instead, he tossed it into a chair and then I was in his arms and his mouth had slammed down on mine.

I shouldn’t have let it happen, I knew that, but I did.

And I did because firstly, I was fucking thrilled he wanted to kiss me. Secondly, because this time I knew the rules to his game. And lastly, and most importantly, I loved him kissing me. I’d been hungry for it for weeks and having it back, I was going to take it.

The first time we had sex, it was a battle which he won.

This time, it was war.

I didn’t know if it was the last time I’d have him. The times before, he let me take a little but most of the time Joe took what he wanted from me.

Now I was going to get what I wanted.

We didn’t even make it to the bedroom. We were too busy with our hands and mouths, both colliding as they touched, tasted, explored and pulled off clothes. It was going fast and Joe was losing because I was determined. Therefore Joe took advantage, hooked an arm around my waist, shoved my lower body to the side and tagged me with a calf behind my knees which immediately buckled. I went down but he controlled my fall so I didn’t crash to the floor. Then his body covered mine and I lost the advantage.

“My turn,” I panted into his ear, my hand wrapped around his hard cock as his hand curled around my breast. “I want you on your back.”

“Next go,” Joe growled back and his finger and thumb rolled my nipple.

My back arched as that shot straight through me but I didn’t give up.

“Joe, my turn.”

He pinched my nipple and that felt so fucking good, my entire body bucked.

“Baby, you can have me next go.”

“Joe –”

“I’m gonna fuck you in a minute. We don’t have time for you to play.”

That sounded good to me so I whispered, “Okay.”

His mouth came to mine and he ground his cock into my hand. I liked the feel of him, hard and big. I missed it and having him pressed into my hand made me squeeze him, the nails of my other hand dug into the muscles of his back and I mewed low.

“So hungry,” he muttered, his tone rough but approving.

“Starving,” I whispered my admission.

“Then let’s fill you up.”

That sounded even better.

His hand left my breast, slid down my side and his fingers hooked into my panties, the only piece of clothing either of us was wearing and he did all this as he kissed me deep. I lifted my legs, curling my ass off the floor as he pulled down my panties and I kicked them off when he got them to my ankles. I didn’t delay in dropping my legs and spreading them for him, he rolled between and I barely got them wrapped around his hips before he had me full.

My mouth tore from his as my neck arched and my fingers curled into his ass.

“Joe,” I breathed.

His hand fisted in my hair and he positioned my head so he could again take my mouth.

“You say my name, buddy, you say it in my mouth,” he ordered.

“Whatever you want,” I agreed as he pounded inside me.

“Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Careful what you promise me, buddy, even in your state.”

“Just fuck me, Joe.”

I could swear, through his thrusts, I felt his grin against my mouth.

Then he muttered softly, “You got it, baby.”

Then he fucked me, harder and harder, until I came and when I did, I moaned his name into his mouth.

* * *

Surprisingly, the next “go”, after he carried me to his bed, Joe let me “play”.

It was brilliant.

Then he played and, I had to admit, that was even better.

After a double orgasm that was so fucking splendid, if I could write, I would have written pages of poetry about it, I passed out.

I woke up and looked at the clock.

It was five seventeen.

I hadn’t been asleep long and wanted to sleep more but I needed to get home.

I looked at Joe who was on his back, one of his arms under me but curled up around me, I was pressed into his side and he appeared to be asleep.

I kind of wanted to watch him sleeping but I didn’t think that was allowed during a booty call. That was something I did with Tim, on occasion, because I loved him so much and he looked so cute when he was asleep.

Joe didn’t look cute. He looked a little scary and a lot delicious.

But watching someone sleep was something lovers did. We weren’t lovers. This was something else entirely, something that didn’t involve intimacies like watching someone sleep. I reckoned the intimacies shared during a booty call had pretty stringent boundaries and I’d read that situation wrong once, I wasn’t about to do it again.

I moved and his arm tightened, his eyes opened and his chin started to dip.

I didn’t catch his eye, just pushed against his tight arm, trying to roll away.

This didn’t work.

“Buddy,” he called softly, his voice gruff.

“I gotta get back to the girls,” I mumbled.

“After,” Joe muttered.

“I have to go.”

His arm loosened, I rolled to my other side but then his other arm wound around me and he yanked me into his front.

“I said, after,” he growled into my hair, pressed his hard cock against my ass and my resisting body stopped resisting.

He pushed into me, rolling me to my belly. Then his hand went between my legs and he cupped my pubic bone, gently pulling me to my knees as my torso stayed in the bed and my head stayed in the pillow.

And I retained this position for awhile first while Joe’s mouth worked me then while he was on his knees behind me and his shaft worked me.

After, when I was done and he was done, his hips pressed into mine, taking me off my knees and back to my belly. His body covered mine for only a second before he rolled us to our sides, his fingers drifting from between my legs, up my belly to glide along the curve under one breast.

He lifted up and kissed my shoulder then at my ear he said, “Now, you can go home.”

Released from my booty call, I started to move away but his fingers at the underside of my breast suddenly moved up and curled around.

“You understand what this is?” he asked and instantly I nodded.

I knew what it was. Sex. Just sex. A booty call. A really fucking good one.

“My truck’s in the drive, buddy, you’re welcome in my bed.”

“Okay,” I whispered into the pillow, my eyes closed, unsure what to make of this but deciding I’d think of it when Joe hadn’t just given me an orgasm and I didn’t have his body pressed to mine, his hand curled around my breast, his mouth at my ear.

He moved, his whiskered chin scraping my skin as it pulled the hair away from my neck and he kissed me there.

Then he let me go.

Then without looking at him (mostly because I was naked but also because I was uncertain about how I felt about the state of affairs, primarily me being naked, thoroughly fucked by a man I went from not liking, to hating, but kept screwing and I’d never left a man in his bed, in his house, to run home in the shortest walk of shame in the history of womanhood, except, of course, the times I did this with Joe), I escaped his room, threw on my nightie, underwear and robe as fast as I could in his living room and I got the hell out of there.

* * *

Stupidly, for the next several hours, my eyes went to any window they were near and I peered out.

I wasn’t on the lookout for Daniel Hart’s delivery men, his car, his driver or him.

I was wondering if Joe would come over for pancakes.

Kate and Keira got up, I made pancakes and Joe never showed.

So there it was. Booty call.

I took a shower and got ready to work the afternoon shift at the garden center.

Cheryl had told me there was nothing wrong with a girl getting some. And getting it from Joe was good. So he wasn’t going to be the next love of my life. At least I wouldn’t be totally alone anymore, not if his truck was in the drive. And I doubted it would be hard to call it off if, someday, some guy who did want to “take it there” walked into my life.