Emphasis on rabid.
“No, he did not kick me out. And the sex wasphenomenal.” She bit her lip, remembering the porch last night and the way her legs turned to overcooked spaghetti as he damn near kissed her very soul—a preview of all the pleasure that was to come.
“Okay.” Barbie stretched out the word like taffy. “So. Why did you leave, Wrenbird?”
Good question.
Wren had been busy all week but she’d still had to force herself not to go to Riversong. She didn’t want to run into Elias the Paramedic for a too-brief minute before he was back out the door and on to another emergency. She wanted Elias on his downtime when he was relaxed and they had a chance to actually talk. But as the days passed and her imagination ran away with her, Wren decided she wanted more than just talk.
She’d felt confident getting dressed for Cocks and Strippers. She practiced her walk—no, herswagger—in front of her full-length mirror. She was totally prepared to go home with Elias—or take him to her place. She felt great walking into the bar, her confidence only boosted when she saw the look on his face as soon as he spotted her. Then their dance, the way every touch sparked fireworks in her chest—fireworks she knew had to be going off in his chest too by the way he looked at her, lips parted, pupils dilated. His shaking hands as he tried to open his front door.
Dear Lord, that kiss on the porch. Best of her life.
Don’t even get me started.
And that kiss didn’t even touch everything that came after.
So why did my swagger abandon me and send me running before breakfast?
There were no red flags. His place was totally normal.Hewas totally normal. Incredibly hot, but totally just a dude. And as for Penny and Chuck, she’d never seen a more adorable pair of puppers.
I’ve lost my mind. Only explanation.She glanced at the passenger seat. At what she’d impulsively stolen—yes, stolen, what the heck was wrong with her?—on her way out Elias’ door.
Because he was too good. Because if I didn’t leave now, I’d blow off work and stay all weekend.
Instead, Wren told Barbie, “I have work today.”
“At the crack of dawn? Really?”
“Really. It’s good light for photography.”
Barbie huffed again. “I think you’re lying to me, but I don’t know enough about photography to argue with you and not sound stupid.”
“You never sound stupid.”
“And that’s why I love you. Because you are kind and say nice things to me, even when they’re lies. But I still think you’re lying to me right now about this situation too.”
“I’m…not.”
“Yeah, you are. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! Can’t a girl have a little no-strings-attached fun?”
“Of course she can. But that’s notyourstyle.”
“It’s not?”
“No. Your style is to carefully observe. And then observe some more. Preferably through a telescopic lens. And then as soon as someone comes in for a closeup, you pack away your camera and go home.”
“Sister, are we talking photography right now? Or did you just refer to my cootchie as a camera?”
“Told you, I don’t know squat about photography.” Barbie sounded smug.
“So youarecomparing my cootchie to a camera.”
“Wrenbird. I can’t believe you went home with a guy and now you’re leaving before breakfast when the sex was, as you saidphenomenal.” She exaggerated the word to the breaking point.
“Yeah. I kind of can’t believe it, either.”
