THRUST(10)

“What!” She shrieks. “You get to photograph this cute, good smelling guy that you didn’t kiss and you didn’t even bother to tell me about it?” She slaps me in the back of the head with a whisk.

I whip my head in her direction with my mouth open in shock. “You, hooker. You just hit me.”

She hits me again, but on the shoulder this time. “And you kept something from me. We’re even.”

“You think at least,” I say barely above a whisper.

She looks down at me now holding a wooden spoon. “What was that?”

I grin up at her. “Nothing. Let’s hurry up so we can eat. Being hungry is brewing a love/hate relationship with you.”

“I second that,” she mumbles. “So stop talking so much and work.”



I TOSS MYSELF DOWN ONTO my bed with a full tummy. Dane was downstairs at the bar and he recommended the garlic wings and garlic wedges. HOLY shit they were delicious! I don’t know who the chef was, but I so would have kissed him if he showed himself. He didn’t, so I settled with kissing Dane on the cheek since he was only the one that suggested them.

Rolling over flat on my stomach, I look down at my phone to check the time. We stayed down at the bar longer than expected. I have less than forty-five minutes before I have to be at Kyan’s.

His words, wear something comfortable, run through my head as I stand in front of my closet. Maybe I should just surprise him and go with his second option: nothing at all.

I laugh at the thought, trying to picture his face if I were to show up like that. I wonder what would happen. Would he throw me across his bed and give me the best fucking of my life, or would he laugh at me and send me home to put some clothes on? The second thought gives me a sinking feeling in my stomach.

That would be humiliating.

Standing in the shower, I start to picture the first option: him coming to his door and let’s say . . . shirtless. Yeah, that sounds good. He comes to his door shirtless, wearing only a pair of snug fitting jeans.

Closing my eyes, I start to touch myself, slowly massaging my clit. I’m surprised at how sensitive it feels already.

He notices me standing in his doorway naked, so he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his apartment . . . or maybe he just tosses me over his shoulder like a caveman. He does seem a bit on the rough side.

I start to rub myself harder and faster as more thoughts and scenarios of Kyan run through my head. It doesn’t take long before my legs become shaky and I find myself holding onto the wall, panting as my orgasm washes through me.

“Oh wow. Oh wow,” I repeat, breathless.

A stupid grin tugs at my lips as I lean my head against the shower wall. It’s been a while since I’ve experienced an orgasm that quick. It sometimes can take up to twenty minutes. That’s no fun.

I jump when I hear the toilet flush. “Shit!” I poke my head out of the shower door to Tori washing her hands. “What the hell? How long have you been in here?”

She smiles while drying her hands on the pink and brown towel. “Oh wow! Oh wow!”

Grunting, I turn the shower water off. “Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” I can’t help but to smile at Tori’s face as she makes an O with her mouth. “Laugh all you want, but it felt good as shit; probably even better than those half-assed ones that Brad gives you.”

Her face turns serious. “Shit. I told you about those?”

Reaching for my towel, I laugh and nod my head. “Yup! All I have to do is give you a bottle of wine and you like to talk.” I get in her face and start moving my hand as if it is her mouth. “Talk. Talk. Talk. I’d be careful if I were you.”

I push her with my hip and walk past her. “Maybe Brad should get his lazy tongue checked out. Aren’t there some kind of tongue exercises he can do for crying out loud?”

“I wish,” she mumbles.

“I need to get ready for my photography date.” I grin, and walk away, leaving her probably hating Brad and his unsatisfying tongue. Strangely, that leaves me satisfied.

Holding my camera, I run my hand down the front of my white shirt. He said to dress comfortably, so I did. I settled on a pair of cut off denim shorts, a loose shirt, and a pair of my worn out Chucks. I have my thick hair pulled to the side in a loose ponytail. Swallowing, I knock.

It only takes a few seconds before Kyan is standing before me looking even sexier than the last couple times I have seen him. How is that even possible? He’s magic, that’s how. I wonder what kind of spells he can work with his tongue . . .

He’s dressed in a black V-neck shirt that hugs his broad chest so perfectly that I start to believe that shirt was made specifically for him. Lowering my gaze, my eyes widen as they take in the way his thick legs look hugged in his dark, form-fitting jeans.