Free Wet by Ruth Clampett

about numbers and tax write-offs.”
    Oh for fucks sake. He’s folding a fucking napkin in the shape of a rabbit.
    Ma peeks again and then turns back to us. “He got up and left the room. Paulie, go ask if she’d like a spot of tea or some coffee. I don’t think she should have a toddy since she’ll be driving.”
    “Sure thing, Ma.”
     
    “Hey, Elle,” I say as casually as possible as I approach the table.
    She sits up straight and pulls her shoulders back when she sees me.
    “Hi Paulie.”
    “So where’s Patrick? Did you scare him off with your dirty mouth?”
    She gives me a stern look and shakes her head before glancing toward the kitchen door that’s still closed.
    “He got an emergency text from a client, so he excused himself to email them some documents.”
    “That’s Patrick!” I say with a grin.
    “He’ll be back very soon.”
    “Sure he will.”
    I pull out Patrick’s chair and flip it around before I straddle it and sit, resting my arms across the back of the chair.
    She turns to study me, her expression full of apprehension.
    I lean as close to her as I can without tipping the chair over.
    “So what’s with the get-up?” I ask with a low voice.
    She shrugs. “Whatever do you mean?”
    I wave my hand over her outfit. “The librarian get-up. It’s so . . . unexpected.”
    She looks away but I notice the corners of her mouth turn up. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.”
    “And you bake pie from scratch, and can charm the pants of my parents with a single smile.”
    “All good things, I’d say.”
    “I guess so. But where’s Vamp Elle? Where’s she hiding?” I lift the edge of her long skirt up a bit and pretend to peek underneath. “Is she hiding under this granny skirt?”
    She slaps my hand away.
    “You think you know me so well.”
    “I mean, don’t get me wrong, librarians are hot. I slept with one once who was smoking.”
    “Is this during the man-whore days?”
    I nod. “She talked a lot while we screwed, and she had a dirty mouth like you except she used a lot of big fancy words, too.”
    “Is that so? Is this supposed to be of interest to me?”
    She crosses her legs and when she does her skirt slides up and I swear I see a hint of a garter holding up her stocking.
    Oh damn, does she know that garters and stockings are my weakness?
    My voice breaks a little when I lean toward her even closer. “Why are you messing with me, Elle?”
    She folds her arms over her chest. “How am I messing with you ?”
    “My brother? Really?” My fingers tighten over the top of the chair. “Do you honestly think he’s going to give you the hot sex you’re searching for?”
    “Looks can be deceiving, you know.”
    “Well tonight, that line certainly applies to you, but Patrick is pretty much a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy.”
    “I’ll find that out for myself, thank you.”
    I lean back and grind my teeth. “Why are you trying to make me jealous? And not even over someone worth being jealous about?”
    Her eyes widen. “Jealous? You don’t want me. Why would you care if he does?”
    I growl with frustration. “Like it’s that simple.”
    “Isn’t it?”
    “Next time you come over I won’t be here. It just messes with me being close to you.”
    “How so?”
    “I’m a man, Elle. Just because I’m trying to abstain doesn’t mean I don’t desire you.”
    She bites her lip. “And being close to me stirs that up?”
    “If I had my way right now, I’d push all of these dishes over, lift you up until your ass was on the table and then I’d have you for dessert.”
    She swallows hard. “Dessert?”
    “I bet you’d be extra sweet.”
    Elle loops her index finger under the collar of her sweater and then pulls it away from her flushed skin.
    “Please . . . stop. It’s cruel to tease me like this.”
    “So I’m getting to you?”
    I can hear her short breaths and her eyes look wild. “Paul,” she whispers.
    I notice footsteps behind