Page 48 of Weddings, Revenge & Fake Dating

“Check his left butt cheek,” he says, grinning.

I turn Bobo over and wade beneath the clothing. On his butt is Nathan’s logo, a wolf paw print. I squint to read the printed tagline.

“This Wolf will make your pussy roar.” I release a pop of a laugh.

When Nathan said he had merchandise, I thought he meant hats and T-shirts, not an anatomically correct . . .

Hold on.

I glance toward the blow-up doll’s pine-tree-patterned boxer briefs and roll my lips inward. Heat paints my face and rushes to the tips of my ears.

I think I need air.

“This is no ordinary blow-up doll.” Nathan takes it. “Do you know what this mouth is for?”

“Kissing?” I stare at the strange silicone-molded lips.

Nathan flips a switch somewhere on the body, activating what sounds like a mini vacuum.

“Is that . . . suction?” My brows pinch.

“This guy will suck your clit.”

Shocked, I drop my purse on the floor.

He laughs and looks around the room. “Where are the mouth attachments?”

Mouth what?

“I don’t even know where this doll came from.”

But that’s not true. I suspect it came from an online mega-store via two-hour delivery, along with all the other random items in the room.

After the fact, I found an email asking to verify a slew of purchases, which of course I had done at some point, presumably in an alcohol-induced haze. I still don’t remember anything from that night.

“You haven’t used them yet?” He looks suspicious.

“He’s my sleeping partner.”

I snatch Bobo back to cuddle like a teddy bear. Since Roman left, I haven’t slept well, but with Bobo warming the bed beside me these last few nights, things have changed.

“No judgment.” Grinning, Nathan holds up his palms and steps back.

As I’m trying to explain myself, he heads to the bathroom, still laughing because he doesn’t believe me. Thankfully, he shuts the door, ending my embarrassment.

When the shower turns on, I scramble to find the “mouth attachments.” It’s not long before I discover a wooden box, branded with a Wolf Savage logo. Inside are several, um, interesting items.

Is that a tongue?

I pick up the attachment and stare. It’s the exact shape of Nathan’s tongue molded in silicone. I recognize it from this evening’s ice-cream-cone-licking incident.

Dear God.

Next, I open a long velvet pouch and dump the contents into my hand. A fleshy dildo falls out, complete with balls. The shock of its realistic qualities makes me drop it on the tile floor. I jump back to save my toes from being crushed by its hefty size and weight.

The shower water shuts off, and my head snaps toward the bathroom door.

Instinctively, I kick the dildo across the room like a soccer ball, and it bounces and rolls underneath the bed. In panic mode, I slam the box closed, snatch the dick from the floor, and race around the room to find a hiding spot.