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“TMI!” She covered both ears with her hands.
“Sorry.” Martina sidled up to the counter and scratched her nail at the specked surface. “That’s your box?”
“Are you weirded out?”
“Not at all. A girl’s got to have alternatives.”
“Exactly,” she mumbled under her breath. “Especially when the real thing doesn’t know you exist.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.” Carrie walked around the island and pulled Martina into a hug. “Don’t worry. I won’t stop being your friend just because you have bad taste in men.”
Martina chuckled. “I’ve gotta get going.”
“Thanks again for modeling for me.”
“I had fun. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye, Marty.”
Martina headed for the front door then remembered what she’d stuffed in her purse.
“Carrie. I might owe you a long, pink vibrating thing.”
“Oh.” She opened the lid of the box and peeked inside.
“I’ll replace it. I’m sure you don’t want this one.”
“That would be correct. But don’t worry about it. Think of it as your modeling payment.”
“Okay then. Deal.” She barely got to the front door when Carrie yelled out.
“Was it any good?”
Without answering, Martina shook her head and walked out into the March air.
On her drive home, Martina went over her sex-filled morning. Especially the part when she visited Rob in the shower and took his big cock into her mouth.
Lying in that comfy bed, desire racing through her veins, she thought of him naked and wet. It was too enticing. She wasn’t raised a greedy person. How could she let him leave without giving him at least a fraction of the pleasure he gave her?
When she snuck in he was taking care of his own business. She watched him for a minute before she fully entered the room. He leaned against the wall with one hand, his other stroking his erection. The water beat hard against his chest, his head was down, his eyes shut tight. She hoped she was the woman he was thinking about as he tried feverishly to bring himself relief.
“Can I help you with that?”
He turned his head quickly with a guilty look on his face.
Modesty had turned into a foreign concept. She hadn’t even bothered to cover herself with a towel. With her best strut, she entered the steam-filled space and stepped into the shower stall. His body turned into hers and she took position on her knees. Before she even made contact with his penis he groaned. He didn’t stop her. He didn’t argue. He let her do her thing, and she devoured him in one long thrust of her mouth.
She sucked him to release. He pumped heavily down the back of her throat, and she savored every ounce of his seed. He was just as delicious as she had imagined when she wanted to lick the tiny drop of moisture on his tip while he teased her with the pink vibrator.
Rob was the one. Now it was just a matter of gathering enough courage to ask him to help her. Or rather, fuck her.
Chapter 8
It was Sunday morning. A full twenty-four hours since her encounter with Rob Taylor.
Martina spread her legs on the wood floor, stretching out her hamstrings, getting ready for her morning yoga class. When Amie barreled through the door, she knew she better get ready to talk.
