Inappropriate Thoughts (Victoria Wilde #1) by Ian Dalton Page B

clothing
as they stumbled away from the car. A few steps away, Rob turned
back to Brian, raising his hands as if to say, "Sorry for putting you through that dude," and they shared a smile.
     
     
    As Jillian waited for the Ambien to kick in, the
phone rang. It was just after 1:00 a.m. on the East Coast, but her
ex-husband, George, was on the West Coast and tended not to be
terribly considerate. The conversation started out civil but
quickly took a turn. When it did, Jillian carried the phone to the
kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. She drank about half
the glass before she started feeling a little lightheaded,
remembered taking the Ambien, and firmly pushed the glass out of
her reach.
     
     
    When Brian arrived back at Jillian’s, he
found her sitting at the kitchen island talking on the phone,
wearing a short, silky robe, a glass of wine nearby. Stepping into
the kitchen and realizing that she was in the middle of a heated
conversation, he winced, stopping dead in his tracks. She waved
back to him like it was no big deal. After grabbing a beer, he
headed out to the pool and sat in a lounge chair.
    The window was open, and he couldn’t help
but overhear Jillian as she said, "I’m not writing you another damn
check. If you’ve blown all the money already, that’s your
problem."
    Brian took a sip of his
beer as Jillian said at full volume, "Okay, why don’t you tell me
where all the money is tied up right now…. Oh, now you can’t tell me? Maybe if you
hadn’t been performing oral sex on that pool in my girl. I mean, on that girl in
my—you know what the hell I’m trying to say. Maybe you’d still be
sponging off me, but since you did, the checkbook is now
closed."
    Then after a brief silence, he heard what
sounded like a cell phone bouncing across a kitchen counter
followed by breaking glass. Turning, he stared toward the sliding
glass door with his eyes wide, wondering if he should check on her.
Before he could act, she appeared at the door, and when their eyes
met she brushed the hair from her face and gave him a smile.
    She walked unsteadily but managed to make
her way to the lounge chair next to him and flopped down onto it.
"Did you hear any of that?"
    "Maybe I caught a word or two."
    "Did you hear the oral sex in the pool
part?" she asked.
    "Yeah, sorry."
    "Don’t be," she said, "You didn’t lick that
pussy in the pool did you?"
    "I haven’t even been in the pool yet," he
said while noticing how spectacular her legs looked in that short
robe.
    She giggled. "Did I just
say pussy ? I’m so
embarrassed." She looked at him with wide eyes.
    He nodded and grinned. "Don’t worry about
it."
    "Sorry. I took an Ambien and had a half
glass of wine before I remembered and, uh, I’m starting to feel a
little GRRREAT."
    "Do you need to go to bed?"
    "No, I’m fine here. I’m good... Isn’t Miami,
like, the best weather on the planet?" Jillian asked.
    Brian humored her with half a smile and then
took another sip of his beer.
    "I really hate that asshole," she said, as
she looked at the pool and then to Brian. "I think I’ve really
screwed up my life. It’s halfway over, and I drove George away, and
I have nothing to show for being here."
    He scoffed and then collected his thoughts.
"You’ve accomplished so much. Look at this house, and Rob… he’s a
great guy. Your books are so good. People love your books."
    "Have you read any?" she asked.
    "Well, no, but I plan to soon."
    "I hate my books—all that screwing and oral
and anal sex. And all the money I make off writing that crap. I
should be shot." She grabbed his sleeve. "Can I tell you a secret?"
She started without waiting for an answer, "I write about all those
beautiful people having amazing, mind-blowing sex. The penises that
never go soft and breasts that are huge and orgasm this and orgasm
that... and I’ve never once had any really, really freaking amazing
intercourse sex."
    He looked at her, embarrassed. "I, uh, find
that incredibly hard