his face as his lids flutter.
Yes, Rex Toberman knows exactly how to return the favor. In no way does it bother me that this isn’t his first rodeo. In fact, my body is penning a thank you note for all of his diligent practice.
“Crap,” he grunts. “You drive me insane. You know that?”
“Anyone ever let you in on the fact you have a dirty mouth? But I’m loving the dirty talk.” My breathing picks up pace as I grind my head into the sofa. Holy heck. If Rex Toberman’s hands aren’t insured for millions, they should be.
“That wasn’t dirty talk. That was a heartfelt sentiment.” His glazed eyes hook into mine while his hand continues to work me into a frenzy. I pull back and do my best to catch my breath.
“I hope you enjoyed it. That’s just a preview of the things I have planned for you.”
I give a dark smile.
“I might just have a thing or two planned for you as well.”
All the rest of that week, Rex and I get together, replaying those heated moments as if it were a live performance we were obligated to adhere to—and let me tell you the matinée is just as ticket-worthy as the dinner show. Also, all week I’ve read every Cosmopolitan I could get my hands on, every dirty sexed-up blog with tips on how to please your man, listened in on a few racy conversations taking place in the commons room. I’ve even gone off the peep show deep end and watched a couple of skin flicks—albeit with my fingers spread over my eyes. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m pretty much a prude. Rex asked if I’d go away with him to his family’s cabin up at Mirror Lake next week, and I’m more than sure that’s when the big IT will happen—not that what we’re indulging in doesn’t qualify as some sort of it in certain parts of the world, but, technically, I’m still a virgin, and for whatever reason, Rex is determined for me to hear a hallelujah choir at the moment he tears through my hymen. He’s a gentleman that way. Although he’s more of an ex-con when he’s working me into a frenzy. Dirty talk or not, Rex Toberman is a bad boy through and through.
But this morning, Daisy and I amble into Hallowed Grounds, groggy from a late night study sesh on all things coital. Daisy might be taking it off in public—thankfully, not all the way to her birthday suit—but she’s only been with her steady boyfriend back in high school. As soon as graduation came, they amicably broke up, and she’s still searching for someone to smooch with. She’s practically shaking with glee at the thought of Rex and me unleashing on one another. It’s as if she’s been in solitary confinement for the last six months, and living vicariously through me will somehow quell the tension.
Speaking of tension—let’s just say that Rex’s threats to impale me with his long, prehensile tongue get me where I need to be each and every time. I never dreamed that I would appreciate hearing the P word coming from my boyfriend’s mouth, but, in all honesty, I silently beg to hear those hot, cunnilingus-based threats.
Piper and Cassidy wave us over once we pick up our coffee, and we join them in the back.
“How’s summer treating you?” Cassidy pulls the words out with her sweet country drawl. Every now and again mine tries to surface, but I’ve spent so many years sequestering it, all traces of it have all but depleted.
Daisy leans in so far her boobs ripple up to her neck. Daisy has what most women wish for, and other women pay for, a perky size D that looks perfectly silicone on her tiny frame. But they’re a far cry from plastic—she swears on her stack of vintage Louis Vuitton purses. In fact, everything about Daisy is real, including her self-proclaimed obsession with all things retail. She’s sort of a shopaholic by nature, but not even the very real prospect of being crushed by an avalanche of handbags can make me dislike her.
“Guess what!” Daisy squawks with such a fervor that even I’m prickled with anticipation at what her squawk-worthy news might be, and I’ve been with her every single day for a year.
“What?” Piper barks it out with an aggression that stomps right over Daisy’s enthusiasm, and it suddenly feels as if I’ve been thrust into an alternate shouty