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"Christ, Jen," I complained. "I already told you to bring him to The 68. I said I’ll adjudicate, didn’t you hear me?"
"Oh. No, I didn’t. I was more confused about what the hell you were doing on my best friend’s phone.
"Although, adjudication might not be enough. I think he came out lucky with a scratched boy toy instead of me literally scratching that toy dangling between his legs.
"Savannah, I told you he had a micropenis, didn’t I?"
"I don’t think five inches constitutes a micropenis," was Savannah’s amused retort.
"Well, it does in my book." She huffed. "Okay, I’ll tell the prick to come to The 68. You may have to hold me back, Aidan."
"I expect nothing less from you, Jen," I commented.
"Don’t worry, I’ll be there too," Savannah chirped, earning herself a glower from me. She shrugged. "What? You think I want to miss out on that show? It’s going to be better than Jerry Springer."
I rolled my eyes, but accepted that she was right, that it would probably be hilarious. It also meant I’d have to stack on security in the bar, but that was fine. Some fucker would probably appreciate the overtime.
"This is my life, y’all," Jen complained. "Not a daytime talk show."
"You’re living your best life," Savannah retorted unapologetically. "That comes with consequences."
Jen blew another raspberry. "Okay, I’ll see you guys tonight." She paused. "Thanks, Aidan." Those two words came out in a rush like she was swearing, then she hung up the phone.
I shook my head, then turned to Savannah and murmured, "You need to get on the bed—"
"Promises, promises—"
"—so I can put a fresh bandage on your thigh."
She crinkled her nose. "I’d prefer the orgasm from your not-so-micro penis."
My lips quirked. "Good to know I measure up."
"Like you have any worries in that department," she scoffed, her gaze dropping to my package which was shielded by white terry cloth.
When she licked her lips, the damn thing twitched, but I groused, "Savannah, behave. I need to change your bandage before we head down to your place for your things."
She pouted, but did as I asked, trudging over to the bed and lying down on the mattress with an artlessness that I actually appreciated.
She didn’t drape herself over the covers, didn’t tilt her head to the side and prop it on a tensed arm while sucking in her belly so that the space between her abdomen and ribs turned concave. She just lay there, waiting for me to do as I said.
Models and mistresses, they were all the same. Of course, Savannah was neither. That was probably why she was an alien concept to me.
A woman who wanted me for me.
Despite what I was.
In spite of what I did.
If anything,because ofwhat I did.
It was almost disturbing.
But I liked it too much to really complain.
With a grunt, I ambled over and settled myself on the bed at her side.
She watched me as much as I watched her, taking in each step like a cougar sizing up a kill, and fuck me if that didn’t get me harder than it should.
