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“Maybe I’ll use Bruce to slurp cherry syrup off you.” She taps the penis straw that’s poking out of her purse.
That visual punches me into the nearest rack. A few books tumble to the floor. “Shit.”
A kinky giggle escapes her as she scoops up the fallen titles and returns them where they belong. Then she skips away. My cock points straight ahead, desperate to catch her. She drags her fingers along the spines in a lover’s caress. I want her hands on me. The demand is about to spew from my lips when she comes to an abrupt halt.
“Oooh, what’s this?” Grace snags a silver box off the shelf.
I tilt my head while inspecting her choice. “A board game?”
“It’s called Lust!” Her seductive voice purrs the title boldly scrawled in red.
“You’ve caught my attention.”
She prattles off the description. My selective hearing snags on certain words such as ‘intimacy’, ‘provocative’, ‘sexual indulgences’, ‘risqué positions’, and ‘endless pleasure’. ‘Explore fantasies’ and ‘push boundaries’ aren’t bad either. The most enticing might be ‘thirty-thousand different combinations’.
“Then we can write our own scene rather than recreating one.” Her eyes burn into mine with that final note.
“Toss cash on the counter and let’s go.” My voice is a croak.
She bites her bottom lip. “Just like that?”
I’m moving before she’s done talking. Her back bumps into the shelf, rattling more than the novels. She sputters and arches into me. My palms clamp onto the cool metal while caging her in. Our gazes feast on each other, heavy breaths accompanying the trance.
“Or we can play here,” I whisper against her lips.
Grace presses her mouth to mine for a brief kiss. “Management won’t approve.”
Fire blazes under my skin. “I need to be inside you.”
“That can be arranged, but not in the store. They take security very seriously.”
“I thought this place was supposed to bind love,” I mutter.
“Not that literal.” Her body sinks against mine. “Damn, I missed you.”
A content rumble rises from me. “How much?”
“Want me to show you?” She toys with the button on my waistband.
My vision blurs with demanding hunger. “That’s not even a question.”
Grace ducks under my arm and begins retreating down the aisle. “C’mon, bartender. We’ve got a bet to make and rules to bend. Winner chooses the position.”
Garrett launches himself onto my bed in a familiar maneuver. Only a stretchy pair of boxer briefs corral his trouser snake. The material does little to contain what he’s packing. He’s hard. Very much so. A glint of silver peeks out from the elastic waistband to tease me. Drool puddles in my mouth as I watch him test the springs for our sexcapades.
“Not bad, soulmate. We won’t make much racket with your squeak-free mattress. The frame doesn’t creak either. Very cooperative for what’s to come.” The smirk that slants his full lips is devastating.
A quake trembles through me. “My neighbors will appreciate that.”
He does a few more pelvic thrusts for good measure. “Excellent craftsmanship. You’ve got quite the screw shack for us to nail each other. All. Night. Long. The carnival acrobatics are about to flip the tent over.”
The thrashing in my ears makes it difficult to laugh at his ridiculous lingo. “Uh-huh.”
“Even the posts are sturdy. We can take turns tying each other up.” He stretches his arms to demonstrate.
“Apparently, I’ve been lying on wasted potential. Good thing I have a friend to fix that.”
“Boyfriend,” he corrects. “At your service.”
