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No. Can’t think about beds, and especially things that happen in them. My throbbing cock doesn’t need any more encouragement. As is, when I stick my fingers into the jar, I fantasize about them being inside Brooklyn’s sweet pussy. And when I apply the poultice between her shoulder blades, I feel like I might burst.
I take a whiff of the poultice for strength and heroically proceed, manfully resisting random urges, like wanting to kiss her neck or to nibble on her earlobe. I’m no doctor like Vic, but even I know those things do not help with sunburn.
“So,” I say, my voice more than a little hoarse. “What are some things that you’re into, besides Don Juan DeMarco?”
“Why?” Her back muscles tense under my fingers, the way they would if she came all over my cock.
“Because I told you mine, but you never told me yours.” But really because I need a distraction. If I’m lucky, she’s into something unsexy, like the recent Godzilla movies.
“Papier-mâché would be my equivalent of your surfing,” she says.
“Interesting.” And more random than unsexy. “What else?”
Her shoulders bob just as I approach the right one with the poultice.
“I like Scrabble. And the Harry Potter series. And books by Judy Blume.”
She sounds a bit belligerent as she says that. Does she expect me to make fun of the grade level of her reads?
“I love Scrabble. And I’ve read all of Rick Riordan,” I admit reluctantly. “Recently.”
How is it that I can see that she’s smiling even though her back is to me?
“With your love of the ocean, you must relate to Percy Jackson,” she says. “From the books, mind you, not the movie, Poseidon forbid.”
I grin. “Percy and the Silver Surfer are my favorite fictional characters. From the books and comics, not the movies.”
“Isn’t the Silver Surfer a villain?”
Grr. Hollywood strikes again. “He had to serve an archvillain for a while. But eventually, he betrays said archvillain and saves Earth. Also, he was in a hero group once, called the Defenders. Not to mention?—”
“You’re a comic book nerd?”
Not even insults affect my dick. If anything, he might be usurping the blood that would’ve gone to my face. “There are comics like The Sandman that are high art, and I’m not ashamed to enjoy them. When I was a kid, they lured me into reading, and I’m sure they’ve done the same for many other kids. In any case, should a Potterhead really be throwing stones?”
Gooseflesh appears on her back—maybe over my words?
“‘Nerd’ isn’t a negative word anymore,” she says defensively.
“If you say so.” I glide my finger down her spine and try to figure out how even her vertebra is so alluring and feminine.
“Can we move on, please?” she asks.
I apply some poultice under the strap of her bikini—fantasizing about unlatching the thing the whole time. “All I know is, you keep contriving ways to learn more about me than I know about you.”
“Hmm,” she says—and it could be my imagination, but it sounds extra breathy, like she’s on the verge of moaning.
It’s official. My cock is now impacting my hearing.
“I’m into treasure maps,” Brooklyn breathes out.
Huh. “That’s a coincidence,” I blurt. “It just so happens that my grandfather left me a treasure map.”
Shit. Why would I tell her that? No idea, but it’s safe to say a certain very erect body part is to blame.
She whips around to face me. “What do you mean?”
Seriously, what am I doing? “My grandfather was wealthy. When Mom died, he changed his will to be in my favor, and then passed away soon after that. That is how I ended up with my inheritance… which includes a treasure map.”
