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He flipped to the one that said Servant for a Day. “I could turn this into anything.” He could turn her into his cleaner or have her on her knees all day.
“You could. I’ll risk it.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I trust you.”
Some guy who wasn’t Chris Martin was singing about being pulled in enough to keep guessing, about having his inhibitions torn up and having nothing holding him back. The singer had it right, Flick had planned a perfect mix of simple activities and the sex they both craved and given him an out at every turn.
“If I want this song on the playlist.”
“Shawn Mendes, ‘There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back.’ You get it.”
“You cook?”
“Not as well as you do and I don’t enjoy it, but yes, I cook. You didn’t really want me mucking around in your kitchen, so it was easy to stay out.”
He still wasn’t sure he wanted her mucking around in his kitchen or his head. “If I can’t take your cooking?”
“I’m not that terrible.”
“I’ll have to trust you too.” He turned his head and bumped his nose on hers. The first coupon she’d given him was a desperate measure. This had taken a great deal of thought, not to mention the craft—don’t think about the glitter. It was cute and funny, a personal behind-the-scenes invitation to the fun fair, and more than a little exciting. “Happy birthday to me.”
She made him pick his first coupon. He took
the ribbon off the booklet and spread the thirty coupons out on the table in their groups: food, fun and sex. A few of the activities had Friday night or weekend stamped on them because of the time they’d require: a hike together, the binge watch. He set aside Friends for Dinner, because that required planning.
He bundled all the sex acts together in a pile; they’d also take some thinking about. She wanted him to tie her up and tear her clothes off. Holy fuck, that was hot. There were eleven sex coupons and eighteen in the other categories. This wasn’t all about the sex, it was also about building a friendship. It was friends and lovers by coupon, redeemable on demand. Only Flick would think of something like this.
She poked him in the side. “Choose one at random.”
“Hello, have you met me?”
She shoulder-charged him, her laughter so throaty he was tempted to pick from the sex pile. There wasn’t going to be anything random about this except what happened when they were in the activity together. What would it be like to hike with Flick by his side, to soak in a bubble bath with her?
He tapped a finger on a bright orange card with a bowling ball drawn on it. It looked safe. Fun, even. “Tomorrow night.”
“I bowl well, so you know.”
“Really. What’s in it for the winner?”
“Honor, truth, justice and whatever side bet you want to lay.”
There was the agenda set by the coupons and then there was whatever they negotiated on top. It was going to be an interesting month.
“You volunteered to tell me a secret.”
She nodded. It was one of the more open-ended coupons. Like Massage, it could mean anything from silly to sexy. “One coupon at a time,” she said.
“Starting tomorrow.”
He’d like to kiss her now. Take his time with it. “For the next thirty days.”
“And then I’m gone.”
Thirty coupons and then she was gone. He needed to pace himself or he might not make it. “But not forgotten.”
He’d like to kiss her and not stop because his father was down the hall or because Flick was desperately sad and wanting to forget, and enjoying her made him feel guilty, or because she provoked him into it.
“That’s the plan. Nothing you regret, a fun time was had by all.”
He’d like to kiss her without an agenda and the coupons were permission. And they were the countdown. “I didn’t say it last night, but Washington, it’s the right decision.”
