and powerful. Maybe I was just eager because I’d been going through a dry spell, but I would love to find out why Ash was so cocky.
“How was work?” I asked.
“Fine. Some eighteen-year-old kid came in on his birthday and asked me to mark YOLO on his arm.” He rolled his eyes. “I kicked him out and told him to get a life.”
“What’s wrong with YOLO?”
“Everyone is doing it. Do you really want a tattoo that everyone else has? I didn’t think so.” He wiped his plate clean then rested his hand against his stomach. “Shit, that was good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Tony never appreciated my cooking. He scarfed it down then immediately watched TV on the couch. It was nice to hear thanks for a change.
“You ever think about getting some ink?”
“It’s crossed my mind.”
He rested his elbows on the table as he watched me eat. “You’d look hot with some sleeves—all black.” He nodded his head enthusiastically. “I’d take you on this table right now.”
Even though I knew he was joking, it still got my motor running. That hard chest would feel so good against mine, and I wondered what the fuss was about with his piercing. I wouldn’t mind trying it out. “I was thinking more in a place you can’t see…like my hip or something.”
“Why?” he blurted. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“In my line of work, I can’t have tattoos visible.”
“But that’s lame,” he said. “You should be able to do whatever you want.”
“You think your parents would like me if I had a falcon on my forearm?”
He shrugged. “I see your point. But I think you should do it anyway.”
“Would you hook me up?”
He grinned from ear-to-ear. “It’d be my pleasure. I’d make you my personal canvas. That virgin skin would be gone.” He somehow made even that sexy. “Do you have any piercings?”
“My ears.” I tucked my hair behind my ear so he could see the diamonds.
“That doesn’t count,” he said. “That’s pussy shit. Toddlers get those pierced. I meant your clit or something.”
This conversation became too heated for me to keep eating. “What’s the purpose of that? Decoration?”
He tried not to laugh. “Are you a virgin or something?”
“No,” I snapped. “I’m twenty-five years old. How could you possibly think that?”
“Then your sex life must be super boring.”
“No…” Actually, it kind of was. Sex with Tony was decent. I’d finish maybe once every ten times. But some positions would bore me to tears because they didn’t give me any stimulation whatsoever.
“I’ll explain, sweetheart—“
“Don’t call me that.”
“Well, I can’t call you by your real name,” he argued. “It’s too sexy.”
“It’s not that sexy,” I argued.
“I like to say a girl’s name in bed, and every time I say your name, that’s all I think about. So, if you don’t want me to picture myself fucking you, then you don’t want me to say your name.” He said all of this without any embarrassment.
I squeezed my thighs together.
“As I was saying…clit piercings are good for stimulation. It makes girls come faster and more often. I was with this one girl who would come if I just blew on it. Even when we did the reverse cowgirl, she’d come so hard she cried. But then again, it sounded like her old boyfriend didn’t know her pussy from her ass so I think I might have had something to do with that.”
I didn’t like picturing him with other women. I had no idea why.
“So, you should consider it. You touch yourself, right?”
“Huh?” I blurted it out without thinking.
“You have a vibrator or something?”
This was the last thing I expected us to talk about tonight. It didn’t necessarily make me uncomfortable, but talking about sex with Ash made me warm, and not in a good way. I felt like my attraction to him was on display. “That’s a personal question…”
“What?” he asked. “We’re friends. I tell you stuff.”
“But I don’t ask about it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Chill, woman. Sex isn’t a big deal. People should talk about it more often. Anyway, it makes masturbation more fun, at least that’s what I hear. You should look into it.” He winked at me. “I wouldn’t mind doing it for you.”
“It’s not really my thing…”
“What is your thing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sexually,” he asked. “Is there something weird you’re into?”
“Maybe we should talk about something else.”
He rolled his eyes again. “Fine. Miss Prissy can’t handle an adult conversation.”
“It’s not that…”
“Then what is it?” He stared at me from across the table, looking like