AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That wasn’t a reference to Ryan’s penis. She’d classify his as average, if most men were built like Jason Momoa. Then Ry’s dick was nothing to speak of.
In the real world? Most men were not built like Jason, either in shoulder breadth or otherwise. Ryan wasn’t a muscle man, but he’d been natively gifted when it came to his male member.
She’d forget that someday.
Possibly.
Lo nodded gravely. “Right. Well, if you need a friend to talk to about this huge, enormous stuff, I’m here. Just saying. I’m new to having girlfriends, but I’m learning. The MeowCat Quiz app on Facebook yesterday rated me A-plus at just that very thing.”
Denver laughed. “Wait, what? What the hell is the MeowCat Quiz app? And how can that tell you if you’re good at making friends?”
“Good question. Explain that to us, Lo.” The deep voice that sounded behind Lauren had Denver taking a quick glance at the rearview mirror out of reflex. Then she wished she hadn’t.
In the recent past, looking at Ryan hadn’t hurt. Now it did. A sweet pain that cleaved through her midsection and left behind a sting. Not dissimilar to the sting between her legs earlier when she’d rolled out of bed and tried to walk.
Yeah, so she wouldn’t be spreading out her sexual encounters quite so much anymore. She didn’t want to re-hymenize when she wasn’t paying attention.
“You know, on Facebook, you click on those cool tests and they analyze your profile and tell you all kinds of fun shit about you?” Lo shifted toward Ryan, who appeared as if he’d just rolled out of bed himself.
His reddish-brown hair was a tangled mess and his scruff was definitely heading into beard territory. Must be he’d decided to not shave for a while.
Good for him. She didn’t care. She’d barely even noticed him looming over Lo.
Right.
“You know those tests steal your profile every time you click on them, don’t you? They know statistical information about you that would shock you. Your musical preferences, your hometown, your profession—everything you put in your online data and more.”
Lo rolled her eyes. “So they know I like Tay Swift. Big whoop. I figured my booty shorts with her name across the ass made it clear enough.”
“Did someone say booty?” West slung an arm around Lo’s waist. She leaned into him, cuddling into his side as if they’d been separated for hours instead of the few moments Lauren had spent crowding into Denver’s private area at the front of the bus.
Private, ha. Good luck there.
Denver ignored them all in favor of focusing strictly on the road. She tipped back her Mountain Dew, letting out a sigh at finding it empty.
Like magic, another bottle with blessed green liquid appeared at her elbow. She took it gratefully and popped off the top, about to thank her savior in the same way she normally did, when she remembered.
You fucked the guy. You can’t just say “Thanks, big poppa” without him giving you some serious side-eye.
Then again, she wasn’t sure why she’d ever said, “Thanks, big poppa.” Her sense of humor might need some work.
“Thank you,” she said instead, in her most prim voice. “So, Lo, what other quizzes do they—” She glanced up at the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of West and Lauren snuggling on the couch opposite K-Jerk and Elle, who were rounding first base on a solid trip toward second. “Ugh, God, I hate gropey hands.”
“Good to know.”
Again, that deep, clit-tingling voice. Had his voice always had that property, or had it just become activated when he’d touched hers?
She gulped more soda. At least it wasn’t alcohol, so she could imbibe freely even if it meant a few extra bathroom breaks. “Didn’t know you were still there.”
“Just figured I’d service you and take off? Is that how it usually works?” He braced a foot against the bar along the side of the stairwell, stretching out his leg until she couldn’t help letting her gaze travel up and up. Faded denim clung to his muscles like a groupie on a rockstar bender.
Focus on the road. Even if it’s just miles and miles of two-lane thruway. Better to follow that than that long, lean line up to its natural conclusion.
His groin. His cock.
Her destruction in a girthy-for-her-pleasure package.
“Serve me, you mean? Yes. It’s considered polite to provide beverages to your driver. Helps ensure the ride is smooth.”
