This was a temporary solution to a long-term sexual rut. That’s it. End of story.
“Even with these ground rules, friends-with-benefits is a recipe for disaster, unless you added a key ingredient. In my case, it’s the fact Everland isn’t my forever. That means we can keep this fun.”
“All right then, lil’ buddy. Have it your way. I won’t pay a single compliment about you or your perfect breasts.” His tone was light, but that probing stare was dangerous.
No more talk. Time to put thefuckinfuck buddy.
She nodded to the board game. “How about a rousing round of strip Scrabble?”
“Strip Scrabble?” He gave her a bemused smile.
“Yes. I just invented it.” She rubbed her hands. “Here’s how to play. Every thirty points, the loser loses an article of clothing.” She waggled her brows. “And if you spell a body part, the other person has to kiss it.”
“Careful, Trouble.” He leveled a crooked smile. “I aim to play dirty.”
She jumped off the counter, walked to the table, and opened the lid. A shiver of anticipation coursed through her as she removed the board. “I’d have it no other way.”
Who knew Scrabble could be sexy?
Five minutes later, Rhett placed anHin front of the wordeat.
“Well, sir, looks as if you have got some of this.” Pepper set anStile next to the wordkill.
“Some guys are breast men—and like I said, you’d make me a convert—but I prefer…” He bracketed the wordhighwith aTand anSand gave a rakish smile. “What were the rules again? That I have to kiss you there?”
“I do like to follow the letter of the law-ahhhhh,” she moaned as he parted her legs, head dropping low. “That’s not my thigh.”
“Oops,” he glanced up with a rakish smile. “Aimed too high.” He didn’t purposely try to sound seductive, but with that molasses-rich accent, he could make reading the instructions for a toaster oven sound hotter than a Southern night.
“Darn,” she pouted, both at her letters and the fact he stopped that thing he was doing with his tongue. “I’m like Old McDonald. So muchE-I-E-I-O.”
“You’d make a good farmer.”
“Is this a reference to my fertile hips?”
He gave said hips an approving squeeze. “No, I meant you love corn.”
“Guilty as charged. Still, there’s something else I love even more.” She dropped anSontoex.
“Never let me be the one who stood between you and what you wanted,” he said, before he showed her not only what he could do with his tongue, but also his fingers, and a few other clever body parts.
Afterward, she curled up, sated, lazy, and happy as she could remember in his lap. “I feel something,” she whispered.
“Me too.” He nuzzled her hair.
“I meant on my butt.” She reached and plucked off aZtile. “Guess we earned ten points.”
“That’s it.” His low chuckle sent heat through her belly. “Now you’re in trouble.”
But, as Pepper realized somewhere between “God, oh God” and “yes, there, yes” that the trouble with trouble is sometimes you want more of it.
***
The next day at the dog park, Rhett sent her an invitation for online Scrabble and they played a secret fast and furious game. During her walk back to Mrs. Johnson’s house, with Ziggy the seven-year-old St. Bernard on the leash, her phone buzzed.
Rhett: Good game
Pepper: I killed your butt—holla!
