Page 69 of The Boyfriend Experience

We enter through a sliding glass door that leads into one of the spare rooms on the main level.

“What’s this room?” he asks as we walk past the large wooden barrels and giant glass jugs called carboys.

“This is my secret beer room,” I say, looking over my shoulder to wink at him. “This is where I keep the Assassin Saison.”

He pulls on my hand to make me stop. So I do and find him studying everything. “So why do you need both barrels and jugs?”

“Oh, the jugs are for infusing the fruit flavors. I was testing out two different kinds, so instead of making a huge batch in a barrel, I use the carboys for that. Then when it’s right, I transfer that to the barrels.”

He looks at me and says, “That’s fuckin’ hot.”

“What is?” I laugh.

“That you know how do this kind of stuff. Beer-making. Just thinking about you wearing a lab coat as you drink beer you brewed with your own hands makes me hard.”

He pulls me close so quick, my breasts bump up against his chest. I tilt my head up to look at him and the strangest feeling courses through my body. I don’t even think I have a word to describe it.

There’s several long moments when all we do is stare into each other’s eyes. It’s weird, but hot. It’s strange, but nice. It’s…

“We’re going out to dinner tomorrow,” he says.

“OK.”

“I’ll pick you up after work.”

“OK,” I repeat.

“I’m going to monopolize your time from now until you make me stop.”

I smile. “OK.”

He stares at me for a few more seconds. Then nods his head, satisfied that I understand what’s happening, and takes the lead as we leave the secret beer room.

He drops the pizza off on the kitchen island, then twirls me around. My skirt flares out as I spin, and then he’s got the leather jacket down my arms. It falls to the hardwood floor with a audible thump. And while I’m still thinking about how sexy that sound is, his jacket does the same.

His tattoo is shiny from the clear antibacterial film Vivi used to cover it up. His t-shirt tight across his chest and upper arm.

I trace a finger down the outside of the film, making his skin quiver.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

I nod, slowly lifting my eyes up to meet his again. “I love it.”

“Good,” he whispers, his fingertips reaching for the hem of my shirt. When he lifts it up my body begins to tremble. Maybe from the chill in the air, but more likely, it’s just… his touch that does that.

“Cold?” he asks, as the shirt goes up over my head and then lands on the floor on top of my jacket.

“Little bit,” I say, as his fingers find the waistband of my skirt. One tug later it’s over my hips, pooling at my feet with a soft flutter.

He unbuttons his jeans, grabs his cock through his pants. It’s clearly hard and ready to go again. And yes. Yes, he is most definitely multi-orgasmic.

“Shower?” he asks, studying my body. His eyes tracing every curve, every bit of me, until they finally rest on mine again.

I nod. Knowing full well it’s not a question, but not caring.

He takes my hand again and leads me up the stairs and down the catwalk hallway to my bedroom. Once inside he takes me directly to the master bathroom.

“Nice,” he says, stopping in front of the giant clawfoot tub. “We’re gonna use that. Eventually. But not tonight.”