I can’t even tell you what those words do to my mental imagery. Seriously, I’m gonna see that exploding stick every time I look at him now.
Or maybe not, seeing as that lazy hip swivel image has been dogging me for two days. Sexy beast.
“Okay, all right. What’s the battle plan then?” I ask, forking up a bite of mouth-watering salmon.
“If it in any way involves celibacy and keeping my hands off Lucian, I can tell you all now, that is so not happening. Especially not after that thing he did with his tongue this morning.”
Oooh, shiver.
“I think we should use your previously flopped attempt at declaring your love,” Brit says, looking around the table for agreement. “He’s obviously going to expect you to say it soon, since you’re walking around with your mushy heart on your sleeve and dripping blood.”
“Oh, nice visual,” Cammy croons, clapping excitedly despite my stink eye.
“I am not.”
“Are too, sister. I can practically see you bleeding on the inside, you’re so hot to say it. Keep it in, though, because this next part is gonna be oh so fun,” she cackles, making me shiver with dread.
I don’t tell them that the chances of me ever trying to say those three words again are like zero. Honestly, a snowball will make it through hell before I do that to myself again. Talk about humiliating.
“Go on then, and blind me with your dastardly plans,” I mutter, glaring at Old Lady Snoot and her narrow eyed squint.
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you. Anyway, here’s what I want you to do.”
They all lean in closer, as if we’re plotting the end of the freaking world or something, so I follow suit and raise a brow, watching a smile spread over her face.
“You’re gonna be your usual, happy self. Have sex—have lots of sex. In fact, I want you to be the aggressor as often as possible. Jump him any chance you get. Then, when he’s so satisfied with himself, I want you to sit back and enjoy the show.”
“What show? All I’m hearing is the same old shit I’ve been doing before. Look how far that’s gotten me,” I humph, mashing my lunch into a pulverized lump.
“Nope. You see, this time you’re not going to give him the look or anything that in any way makes him feel like the invincible conqueror. Just play it cool and calm and let him catch up.”
Sounds easy enough, since I’d basically cut out my tongue before doing anything that dumb again. Once again I refrain from saying so and focus instead on something I’ve been mulling around for a few days.
“Do you guys think I can invite my friend Mary along sometime? She’s blonde and really pretty and I don’t think she’s attached. I’d like her to meet you nut jobs.”
“Sure, we could always use another Golden, since you brunettes have joined the fold. Just don’t expect us to start setting her up on dates or anything. We don’t match make; we facilitate.”
Facilitate my ass. These women are so devious and naughty I can’t help but wonder what kind of business they’d do if they ever put their minds to selling the goods.
“Here’s to getting your man and eating him too!” Brit yells, toasting me with her half empty water glass.
I highly doubt that’ll happen, but I keep my mouth shut and play along. If nothing else, I’m enjoying the hell out of having five lunatics as my best buds as I do my best to just hang on for the ride and pray I don’t come out of this with a banged up heart.
Chapter Twenty One
Luc
Something is most definitely wrong. Very wrong.
“Is it just me, or is Ash being really weird lately?” Ben whispers to me across the kitchen table as we finish off his homework while my wife skips around the place humming and cooking up a storm.
It’s not just me then, I think, as the lad leans closer and eyes our girl like she’s a snake about to strike.
“She baked cookies for my class yesterday and even let me eat some for breakfast. I think she’s losing her marbles.”
I can’t disagree as she pauses and throws us a bright smile before going back to her potion pot.
She’s been so sweet and attentive since she went to another lunch with Cammy that I’m frankly afraid of what she’ll do next. I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve actually been hiding in my study most nights just to give my poor dick a break from her insatiable arse.
I’m exhausted, and annoyed that it can even be so, but I’m a little afraid of what she’ll do next if I don’t get a handle on her and slow her down a bit.
I can handle her hurt feelings—most days—and even come out of one of her tempers with only a scratch or two. It’s this enigma of cheer and sexual voracity that’s got me running for the hills.