Page 117 of Sour Notes

Thank fuck, I can finally breathe again.

Her eyes sparkle, her face all mischief now.

There’s my girl.

“Well, if you want to help, it looks like she’s sent me a clone-a-willy to review.” She blinks up at me, all doe-faced innocence.

I sputter out, “A what-a-willy?”

She reaches forward and I avert my eyes so I don’t catch sight of the best pair of tits I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing with, lest I add one more dick to her collection for review.

Grabbing a tube, she bounds off the bed, as agile as those insane yoga goats, and bounces over to me, practically vibrating with excitement.

This girl gives me emotional whiplash in every way, but fuck if I don’t love it. I live for her like this. Wild, a little naughty—alive.

She halts in front of me, leaning against the counter, brandishing the tube in my face like a lightsaber.

“Soooo apparently, this is supposed to create an exact replica of a dick, but you add the vibrating elements inside, basically turning any cock into a vibrator.”

What the ever-loving fuck?

At this rate, women won’t need men at all. It’s already hard to compete with their damn book boyfriends and jack hammer alien dick toys.

“How the fuck does it do that?” I examine the tube in her hand like it’s about to come and bite my dick off.

I mean, it might.

“There’s some powder stuff you mix to make a mold, then you stick your boner inside. Bada bing bada boom.”

“Absolutely not.” I shake my head taking a step back. “Nope. Not doing that. If you want my dick, you can play with the real thing. What if it rips it off? And don’t Chandler me. You wouldn’t catch him sticking his dick in some weird goo.”

“Oh, please. The dude got a bikini wax in season four. He would absolutely use this. And it won’t rip your dick off. Don’t be such a baby.”

I arch a brow, hitting her with my best stern look, loving the way she bites her bottom lip in response.

“What’s in it for me?”

“What do you mean, what’s in it for you? My eternal gratitude for helping me help improve the sex lives of readers far and wide?” She drops the tube on the side, so she can stare at me defiantly with her hands braced on those perfect curvy hips.

So goddamn sexy.

“No… I mean, if I have to risk my guy in some mystery goo to give you a fake, second rate version of my dick to play with, then what’s in it for me?”

She just stares at me, the brat.

“Okay, Vixen, I’ll spell it out for you. The way I see it, my main man’s grounded, trapped in the no-fuck zone as per your request. And I respect that. Get it, even. But, if I’m cloning my dick for you, I’ll damn well be the one to tell you how to use it. Those are my terms. Take it or leave it, Trouble.”

Her eyes flare with arousal, a pretty flush creeping up her tanned cleavage. And fuck, there goes my dick again. Her eyes drop to the very obvious boner battling to tent my sweats and her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.

Sweet Jesus, not touching her is torture.

If we hadn’t had that blip yesterday, I’d be pulling her in by the neck right now, wrapping those soft waves around my fist and absolutely wrecking her with my kiss.

Smothering the growl threatening to escape from my chest, I focus on breathing in and out through my nose—faking an inner peace I sure as shit don’t feel—not saying a single word. I lift the mug of coffee to my lips and take a sip, my eyes still locked with hers over the rim.

She worries her lip between her teeth, the cogs turning in that pretty head of hers.

She wants it. That truth is written all over her face, but will she let herself have it?