The Lightning-Struck Heart (Tales From Verania 1)

“Gary! What do I need to do with my mouth!”

“His penis,” Gary offered.

“His penis,” I said, brain melting. “Like. What. And just. Whoa.”

“Sam? Sam. Oh for the love of the gods, did I break you?”

“No,” I said. “I’m just. Just.”

“Thinking about Ryan Foxheart’s penis,” he said helpfully.

“What if he’s huge?” I asked.

“What if he’s tiny?” Gary asked with wide eyes.

“I would love him anyway,” I decided.

“Aww,” Gary said. “I only threw up a little bit at that.”

“You’re not helping!” I said, soaping up my hair. “If you’re going to be sassy, get the hell out. Wait. Why are you even here?”

“I came to make sure you weren’t nervous,” Gary said. “It’s not every day that your flower gets eaten.”

“I’m not nervous,” I said nervously.

He rolled his eyes. “Of course not. You only got everything you’ve wished for over the years and now you’re about to find out just what a prostate does. Of course you’re not nervous.”

“Best friends are mostly awesome,” I said. “This is not one of those times. And stop calling it my fucking flower. I am not some fair maiden being wooed. I am a fucking wizard’s apprentice about to have hardcore gay sex. I am a motherfucking man.”

Gary grinned at me. “Yeah, you’ll be fine. Remember two things.”

I nodded, because I just knew he was going to impart words of impeccable wisdom upon me that I would treasure for the rest of my life.

“First,” he said. “You don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to do. If you are uncomfortable, if something hurts, you tell him to stop and he will. If he doesn’t, you curse his fucking ass, find me, and I will murder him. Are we clear?”

“My loved ones are extraordinarily violent,” I said. “Deal. What’s the second thing?”

“When you’re finished,” Gary said, “you have to tell me every single detail. I want to know everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” he said. “You’re about to get porked and I want to know what kind of sex face he has.”

I grimaced. “Nothing about that sentence was even remotely sexy.”

“Wash your taint, kitten.”

And so I did.

When I felt I couldn’t be any cleaner, Gary handed me a towel and I wrapped it around my waist. The mirror was foggy, and I wiped a hand across it. My reflection was wide-eyed and looked slightly manic. “Crap. I have crazy face.”

“Only a little bit,” Gary said.

“That wasn’t as helpful as you thought it was,” I said.

“You got this, okay?”

“That was a little better.”