“You gave me 30 days. You have to give me at least another week before you start breathing down my neck, okay?” He was making progress but he had to use a gentle touch if they wanted to get anywhere.
“Alright.” Gabriel sat back in his chair. “Keep me posted, and keep your eyes on the prize.”
It was a humid afternoon,and the strides of Holmes, Lenny’s Great Dane, were much longer than Cami’s. So when she returned to Sex on the Beach at the end of her lunch break, she panted, swiping sweat from her hairline with the back of her hand. The dog pushed his way past her into the store, and, opting not to get dragged behind him any longer, she let go of his leash. Holmes trotted over to the sales counter and flopped behind it, happy to avail himself of the store’s air conditioning. She, on the other hand, leaned against a free spot on the wall, tilting her head back and trying to reinflate her lungs.
“You survived!” From the stockroom, arms laden with boxes, waddled Tristan. He squeezed behind the counter to set the boxes down and tripped over Holmes, who only offered an irritatedwhuffin acknowledgement.
“You okay?” Cami asked, not moving from her spot.
“Fine, yeah. Thanks for the warning.” Tristan popped upright and gave her a pointed glare and a fist shake.
He was a bulky guy in his early twenties, the surfer type, with sun-streaked blond hair and matching scruff on his jaw. He refused to grow a full beard, no matter what Lenny said, on the grounds that ‘guys with beards shouldn’t work at sex toy stores.’
“It’s your turn to walk the dog next time.” Feeling like she could breathe again in the cooler, thinner air of the store, Cami meandered around the outskirts of the shop, checking for misplaced products.
Lenny took Holmes with her when she went out, but not when she went grocery shopping. It involved using public transit and going inside places that had a lot of great-smelling food, and people tended to get testy when giant dogs took their seats on the bus or slobbered on their glass deli display cases. So, on those days, Holmes hung out at Sex on the Beach. Tristan complained, but he loved that lazy dog.
“Any big plans for tonight?”
As if on cue, Cami’s cheeks flushed. She glanced up into one of the reflective anti-theft panels, catching Tristan kneeling to unclip Holmes’s leash.
“Um… nope.” She sounded more strangled than normal, and tried to cover it up with a cough.
Truth be told, her upcomingnot-a-datewith Des had been on her mind pretty much non-stop all day. Hell, all week. The morning had dragged by, and the afternoon seemed set to stay on trend. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. On one hand, the more time she had beforehand, the less nervous she was. On the other, just remembering the heated glimmer in Des’s eyes as he bought that stupid vibe made her body hum like one of the toys he’d promised to use on her.
She must not have sounded convincing because when she turned around, Tristan was staring at her with one cocked eyebrow.
“I just… I have a test on Monday. I’ll be studying.”
Tristan was well-acquainted with her attempts to juggle work and school. Lenny had hired him when Cami started her Computer Science program so that she’d be able to take time off for classes and homework.
The test part was the truth. One of her Scripting instructors had been dropping serious hints about a pop quiz first thing back from the weekend. But she wasn’t all that confident she’d be able to focus enough on her coding texts to study.
Whether that improved after her visit with Des tonight remained to be seen.
She didn’t have much faith. Des was distracting enough when he’d never seen her naked. After he had, she doubted she’d be able to function at all. At least her grades were high enough to take the hit of one failed pop quiz. It would be a shame to miss out on her associate degree because orgasms melted her brain.
Of course, there was nothing guaranteeing actual orgasms.
It was probably stupid of her to hold out hope. She was twenty-four, and she’d been sexually active-ish since she was nineteen. Five years, and not one person she’d slept with had managed to get her off.
Then again, she supposed she couldn’t blame them. She couldn’t even get herself off. How could she expect Des to get her off if she couldn’t do it herself?
She’d never faked an orgasm. It hadn’t occurred to her to try. It seemed dishonest, and with all the lying she’d grown up with, the thought of adding to the pile made her nauseous. Maybe she couldn’t orgasm, but she could at least be honest.
Still, when she thought of Des rolling a vibrator along her skin, trying his best to coax an orgasm out of her... the last thing she wanted was to disappoint him.
“Where did you go just then?” Tristan asked, his voice a gentle intrusion into her troubling thoughts.
She sighed and cast him a sheepish smile, then wiped her finger along a glass shelf to check for dust. “Oh, you know. Pre-test panic land.”
Tristan nodded. “That’s why I decided not to do the college thing. I don’t test well.” He gestured over his shoulder toward the door that led to Lenny’s office. “It’s pretty quiet out here. You’ve got your laptop upstairs, right? Why don’t you head into the back and study for a bit? I’m sure I can hold down the fort.”
She tried to keep her work life out of school, and vice versa, but the idea of getting some studying in—and taking her mind off Des and his sex toys—was appealing. “You sure you don’t mind?”
“Nah, I’ve got this. Besides, maybe some hot lady toy seller will come in and flirt with me.” He winked.
“Oh, shut up.” She rolled her eyes, and, as she strode past Tristan, shoved him in the shoulder. “You’re more than welcome to take a whack at Des if you want him.”
