I swear I hear her breath hitch. Wishful thinking, maybe. I’m not exactly breathing steadily right now. Not with the memory of her sweet mouth and just how fucking good it felt against mine playing through my head like a song.

“Fine…two…”

“Three days, Bren. Take it or leave it.”

She sputters at that. “Are you seriously throwing down an ultimatum already?”

Yeah, I’m taking a risk. But some things you fight for. “It won’t work the way you want it to if we only see each other two days out of the week.”

“Gah. Fine. Fine!”

I grin wide. “Good. Oh, but if we want to fuck around on an off day, we can.”

“Rye.”

“Bren.”

God, I love teasing her. Always have.

“Ass,” she grumbles. All cute and flustered. “Agreed. But don’t hold your breath.”

Relieved, I sink back into the curve of the couch. “I won’t remind you of that little proclamation later, sweetheart.”

“How magnanimous of you,” she says dryly.

“I thought so too.” Swallowing a laugh as she growls, I glance out of the booth. Danny, Whip, and Mike are now devouring a pizza together. I guess their spat is over. My stomach rumbles, but I ignore it in favor of Bren. “Now that that’s settled, tell me something.”

“What?” She sounds wary.

My voice lowers, heat running down my belly and under my balls. “How do you like to be fucked? Soft and slow? Hard and deep? Both?”

Her breath definitely hitches this time. “You just went right there, huh?”

I shift in my seat, itching to touch her. “Stop stalling. Tell me something you’ve wanted that no one has given you.”

“Isn’t it your job to figure it out?” she asks in a voice gone soft and breathy.

“Believe me, Berry. I’m going to find all your sweet spots.” Hell, I’m sweating. Actually sweating. My foot is tapping out an agitated rhythm. “I’m thinking more along the lines of a fantasy you want acted out.”

“Rye…”

“Come on,” I whisper. “This is part of the fun.”

“Fun is peeling back all my layers for your inspection?”

“Well, yeah.” I bite my lower lip, imagining said inspection. “I’ll tell you one of mine if you tell me one of yours.”

“You first.”

I laugh softly. “As if I thought you’d go first.”

“So…” she prompts. “What is it? Orgy? Public sex? Another guy?”

“You offering those things?” I ask lightly, knowing she’s messing with me.

“I can only be a part of some of those. I don’t have the equipment for that last one. But, no, none of those are on the table. Except for maybe the other guy thing. I’d totally watch that.”

“I bet you would.” I run my hand down my tense thighs. God, she’s got me worked up. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m a rock star. All of that stuff is old news for me.”

“Is it?” She practically squeaks the question.

“Bren, I feel like I’ve seen and done everything at this point. It’s boring now. Empty.”

A sigh gusts. “Yeah, I know. So what’s left? What’s your fantasy?”

“You.”

There’s a pause.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I knew you were leading me on…”

“I am completely serious. My fantasy is you.” I close my eyes, and somehow that makes it easier to confess. “It doesn’t even have to be straight-up sex. I have this one scenario…”

“Tell me.” The husky demand cannot be denied.

I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “We’re on the tour bus. All of us sitting around that side table where we have to cram in close.” Jesus, just saying that much has me panting, and it isn’t even anything dirty. I adjust my grip on the phone, my hand damp with sweat. “You’re pushed up next to me in that tight spot by the corner.”

“Yeah.” She says it like she’s picturing the bus, the way the banquette curves, and how, even surrounded by our friends, we’d be half-hidden there.

“Everyone would be talking. Laughing and drinking. And while you did too, my hand would slide under the table, find your lap.”

I bite my lip and hold back a groan. “You’d have to hold steady, Berry, pretend you didn’t feel me gliding up between your thighs.” My breath hitches. “You’d part them for me, wouldn’t you, Bren? Part those sleek thighs so my hand could squeeze into that tight, hot spot.”

Brenna makes a small noise, and I know she would do it for me. She’d let me in.

I shift in my seat, adjusting my throbbing dick. “From the waist up, you’d be all smiles and jokes. But down below, I’d be running my finger over your damp panties, rubbing that swollen little clit.”

I’m a dirty fucking bastard because I love the idea of doing that where anyone could catch us.

“Shit,” she whispers, as though she loves the idea too.

I close my eyes, swallowing hard. “I’d get that sweet button all plump and needy. And when you started to squirm…” A grunt breaks free. “That would be bad, Bren. I’d have to give your naughty clit a pinch.”

Tags: Kristen Callihan VIP Romance
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