Page 14 of Comin' in Hot
“Shut up,” I throw out while lowering my sunglasses and staring straight ahead.
Her eyes haven’t left my profile as she replies, “Interesting… PS: What you haven’t said is that I’m wrong.”
That’s because she’s not wrong.
Silence bleeds out between us like a standoff as goose bumps crawl up my neck. Because her stare is piercing. But I’m not answering. She can’t make me.
More silence.
God, she’s so obnoxious. This won’t work. She can’t just stare me into submission.
I swallow, while frowning, and I can feel her smile. She’s not going to break me. She can’t break me.
“Fine,” I groan and look at her. “You’re wrong. Happy? Now, stop staring at me, creepo.”
But all she does is raise a brow. My shoulders sag defeatedly before I motion with my head for her to come closer. Sisters just have a way of getting what they want.
Moon darts up, her hands gripping the side of my lounge chair as she leans in.
“So it’s been a little bit more than a year,” I whisper.
There’s a sharp intake of breath from her, but I give her one hard blink that she returns a nod to before I continue. “We hadn’t actually done it for like six months prior to Jeffrey telling me about Poppy. So eighteen months, two weeks, and three days. Not that I’m counting. But I could give you hours, minutes, seconds.”
Moon’s hand comes to her chest like she’s having a heart attack, and I nod.
“Yeah, imagine how I feel. It’s been torture. This is the worst part about my divorce. I’m in my prime, but Jeffrey was all ‘I deserve to be happy.’ Fuckwit, I deserve to be in a sex coma, so I guess we’re all miserable.”
She finger snaps praise like I’m on an open mic, spitting spoken word.
“Moon, I hit forty, and it was like my body went into overdrive. But I was married to the fuddiest of duddies, and now that I’m free, all I want is sex. All the sex. Any kind as long as it’s the opposite of what I had. I want to go wild. I saw a photo of the ocean the other day, and the caption said, ‘This and getting your back blown out.’ I don’t even know what that means, but my body immediately said yes. I want that. Blow out my back. God, I just want a man to devour me until I don’t know my name. I’ve been deprived my whole life.”
Moon shrieks, making me smack her shoulder as she speaks, “I thought you had sex before Jeff?”
I shake my head. “I lied. You were cooler than me, and I wanted to be the big sister who gaveyouadvice. I was checkingout medical books from the library to answer your questions. You’re the whole reason I know about tantric sex. I never experienced it.”
“Oh my god.” She covers her mouth with her hand as she laughs and mumbles, “I’m not laughing at you. I swear. You’ve just been in a prison of your own making.”
“Yeah. I’ve been living Dickshank Redemption, and now I’m free. To be honest, I’d happily let Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman run a train on me at their current ages.”
We start to laugh, the kind of maniacal, hands on each other, falling over kind that refreshes your soul and lets it all out. Because it feels good to unload my truth.
Hi, I’m Margot, and I’ve never had good sex.
“Whoo,” I let out on a heavy exhale, shaking out my hands, my smile beaming. “That felt good.”
Moon takes my hands and holds them gently. “Of course it did. You needed the release. Also, now I get why you humped an olive tree.”
I jerk my hands away, fake-annoyed by her. “I wasn’t humping the tree. I fell on it in a humping motion.”
Moon laughs. “Either way, your path is clear to me. We have ten days to get you laid. Like a lot.”
I chuckle. “I’mOcean’s Elevenkind of in, but I feel like I need to get laid before I get laid…you know what I mean? I’m basically a forty-year-old virgin. I’ve never even given a…”
“A what?”
Blow job, I mouth.
“Never?”
