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“Oh no, you don’t. I already feel scandalous enough bringing my Dom home to meet the parents. I’m not going to do it with a butt plug shoved up where the sun doesn’t shine.”
His rolling laughter only made her angrier.
“I mean it, Lukus. No way. No how.”
“Tiffany.”
“Snowball. Red. Butterfly. Stop. No.”
“Really? All of the things we’ve done together, and this is what you’re going to safeword on?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She had no words. He waited. And waited.
Eventually, she said, “Shit. I don’t know.”
“Not good enough. You come up with a good reason and I’ll stop, but just being afraid isn’t good enough.”
“Fine. Good girls don’t let their boyfriends shove things in their bottom.”
“Really? How do you know that?”
“Well. Because… everyone knows that.”
“And you want to be a good girl?” he asked.
“Stop confusing me. Of course, I want to be a good girl in the eyes of my parents.”
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. So, let’s say I do plug that beautiful ass of yours. Do you think I’m going to bring it up in passing conversation? ‘Hey, Aiden. Can you pass the potatoes? Oh, and by the way, I shoved a nice big plug up your sister’s ass before we got here today.’”
He succeeded in getting her to giggle.
“You wouldn’t,” she said.
“Oh, baby. Don’t dare me. So, unless your family does full-body cavity searches upon arrival, just how do you think anyone is going to find out?”
Her pulse surged as Lukus played with her hand, still tight in his grip. “ButI’dknow.”
“Exactly. And so would I. It’ll be our private secret. Something linking us together from across the room. Hell, even while you’re at the bridal shower, you won’t be able to forget me. Exactly how I want it.”
He didn’t give her enough time to think about it. Lukus jumped out the driver’s side and came around to open her door. He reached in, held her hand, and pulled gently, but firmly. “Out.”
Tiff moved on autopilot, following him to the front of the car. He turned her to face it, placing her hands in the middle of the warm hood.
“Spread ‘em,” he said.
She felt like she was being frisked by a police officer—that was, until she felt him lifting her flirty spring skirt above her waist. His long catcall-whistle at seeing her thong underwear made her blush.
“Let me guess. These are the kind of panties good girls wear?”
“Very funny.”
He looped his fingers through the elastic band, lowering her panties to just above her knees. “Keep those from falling down, young lady.”
Her “yes, sir,” came naturally.
