huge muscled back while he ignored her like she was a fly.
He’d smacked her ass, told her if she didn’t stop, he’d lock her away again.
And Sari, who was no dummy, stopped.
Chloe thought maybe she should be kicking and screaming. That maybe this Breck was a little too much for her to handle, with those laughing blue eyes and sensual lips. But she wanted to know what was under that blue shirt, what was behind the laces of his breeches. She wanted to know what else those fingers could do, the ones that were currently massaging her hand.
Plus, she had her armor. Sari would protect her. Sari would speak for her.
Sari could do what Chloe never could. Be who Chloe could never be.
His lips left her skin and then he tugged gently on her arm. Another step brought her against him, so the breast cups of her corset brushed against his chest.
“Do I have to haul you over my shoulder to have dinner with me, or will you come willingly?” he asked quietly.
So blue, his eyes. He was like a walking Ken doll. Chloe had only played Barbies because her sister had forced her to, and when Chloe did play, she always ended up with Ken and Barbie on the roof of the Dream House naked.
She wanted this Ken doll naked, too. But without that weird smooth plastic crotch.
“I’ll come willingly,” she responded.
He tilted his head and his eyes sparkled. “I might need to frisk you for daggers. I’m not sure those are allowed in the establishment I’m taking you to.” His eyes sparkled.
She licked her lips, tempted to tell him to forget dinner, a bed was all that was needed. But instead, she nodded. “You can frisk me.”
He raised an eyebrow as he slipped a hand beneath the waist high slit on her skirt. “What will I find, Sari?”
Those fingers started at her outer thigh and then traced inward, along the soft flesh on her inner thigh. She sucked in a breath. “What do you think?”
He paused when he touched the leather of her garter. A smile tipped his lips. “Ah, my Sari, never without a weapon.”
She stepped back then, away from his touch and swirled her skirt around her legs. “No man will have his hand up my skirt. I think we’re safe wherever you plan to take me.”
He paused, then held his elbow out. “I like a woman who can defend herself.”
She slipped her arm in his and they began to walk. “Well then, glad you found me.”
…
She was the perfect Sari.
Grant Osprey hadn’t actually planned to pick out a Sari to go with his Breck. He didn’t really discriminate when it came to these things. He would have been fine with a Wonder Woman or Poison Ivy. That steampunk Queen of Hearts two years ago had been a full house in bed.
But this Sari…there was something about her. Plump red lips, huge cascading waves of chestnut-brown hair that brushed the top of her high ass. That was her real hair, he bet, not a wig. What he wouldn’t give to wrap his fist in it while he took her from behind. She was a petite thing, and he imagined spanning her narrow waist with his other hand, watching the firm globes of her ass jolt with every stroke inside of her.
He was getting a little ahead of himself, but that’s what these conventions were for him. Sure he dated here and there, but dating lead to complications that he simply didn’t have time for. He was the owner of a gaming magazine and a stressed-out single dad. But here? He wasn’t any of those things. He was Deadpool or Legolas or Breck.
He didn’t have to fuck, but he sure as hell liked to, and if Sari’s glimmering green eyes were any indication, she did, too.
He glanced around the crowded convention for a glimpse of his friend, Austin Rivers, and his girlfriend, Marley Lake. But they’d just made up after a big fight so he was sure they were in a hotel right now fucking like bunnies.
Good for them. Marley was the newly appointed editor of Gamers and she was the only thing that made Austin happy. And it seemed the feeling was mutual.
Grant’s eyes drifted to Sari’s chest. The tops of her rounded breasts peeked out of the top of her corset. They looked soft and smooth and perfectly lickable. He had the urge to lay his head on them, run his fingers along the smooth