“You mean…” I stuck my tongue between the V of my outstretched index and middle finger. “This?”
“You guessed it.”
“Solo effort, huh?”
She nodded. “All will be forgiven.”
“What else?”
“Every chance you get, walk around the house shirtless. It stimulates our sexual senses.”
“That’s an easy one,” I said. “Keep ’em coming.”
“No matter how cool you think it would be or how much you might think she’d like it, never ask for a three-way. It’s the kiss of death to any relationship.”
“I’d never ask anyone to—”
“Just making sure.”
“What else?”
“No matter what the food we cook tastes like, tell us you love it. Rave about it. Compare it to a recent fine-dining experience. It’s a surefire way to get post-meal sex.”
“Anything else?”
She smirked. “I think that’s it for now.”
“What?” I asked. “There’s something you don’t want to tell me.”
“Well…” She gave me a quick once-over. “No. Forget it.”
I scowled. “Say what you were going to say.”
Seeming reluctant to continue, she turned away. “Just go with what I gave you.”
“Bullshit,” I spat. “Tell me what you were going to say.”
“Fine.” She faced me and let out a sigh. “At that instant our vaginal walls tighten up, just before an orgasm, we love having a finger poked up our butt.”
“No shit?”
“I’m dead serious. It’s a well-guarded secret. Make sure your nails are trimmed. And be sure to lick it first if there’s no lube available. But do it in secrecy. Don’t advertise that you’re doing it. It’s the surprise that excites us.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I extended my hand and clenched my fist. “Appreciate it.”
“No problem, bro.” She pounded her fist against mine. “Just keep it a secret.”
I pinched my fingers together and zipped my lips closed.
She turned toward her office. “Have fun this weekend.”
“What’s going on this weekend?”
She disappeared into the office’s abyss, leaving me to wonder what Teddi’s plans were for the weekend.
Some secrets, I guessed, were meant to be kept.
Chapter Twenty
Teddi
Devin took a sip of his wine and set the glass aside. He reached for his fork. “This is crazy.”
The only thing that was crazy was that he was eating dinner without his shirt. It was hard for me to stay focused on my meal, and I feared that I might be caught inadvertently drooling.
“What’s crazy?” I asked, assuming he wasn’t talking about his bare torso.
“This lasagna,” he replied. “It’s better than what Herb and I ate that night we met Vinnie at that fancy Italian joint.”
I shifted my eyes from my food to him. “You like it?”
“It’s awesome,” he said. “The salad, too. The dressing is fantastic.”
The muscles in his chest swelled with each breath he took, and he took them often. I felt like I did in ninth grade when Karen Valentine and I peered through the crack in the wall and into the boys’ locker room. I wanted to stare but felt guilty for doing so.
I shifted my attention to my plate. “It’s just oil and vinegar.”
“Well, whatever it is, it’s fucking tasty.”
Despite my intentions to stay focused on the meal, I glanced in his direction. He raised a forkful of lasagna to his mouth. Whether intentional or not, his pectoral muscle flexed. Then it flexed again.
I nearly wet myself.
“Thank you,” I murmured, looking away. “I appreciate it.”
“So, what movie are we going to see?”
“Ford versus Ferrari,” I replied. “There’s not a good rom-com playing, so I thought we’d do a guy show.” I made the mistake of looking up. “They say it’s really good.”
“Sounds good to me.” He nodded toward the island. “Can I have some more before we go?”
“Salad?”
“Everything,” he said. “Salad. Lasagna. The bread. I can’t get enough.”
We were eating later than I’d hoped and were pressed for time, but I beamed with pride at the thought of him enjoying the meal. “Absolutely.” I stood and reached over the table. “Hand me your plate.”
He lifted his plate and extended his arm over the table. The muscles on the back of his bicep flared to twice their normal size. His shirtless antics had me so horny, I was lightheaded. Itching to get my plan underway, I took his plate and filled it with food. After a moment of admiring him from my out-of-view vantage point, I returned to the table.
I handed him the plate. “I just noticed you’re half naked. What’s going on with that?”
“I didn’t want to wrinkle that new shirt you bought me,” he said. “I thought it’d be nice to wear it out.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I said. “If we’re not taking the motorcycle, I’ll wear a dress.”
If I drove, it would make succeeding that much easier. I finished my meal and excused myself from the table while my shirtless boyfriend continued to shovel food into his gullet like a starving man.
“I’m going to get dressed really quickly,” I said, glancing at my watch as I stood. “We need to leave in thirty minutes or so.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Okay.”
I changed into my evening’s attire of a comfortable dress, two-inch heels, and my favorite accessories. After primping my hair to perfection, I returned to the kitchen. Although the dinner mess was cleaned up, Devin remained shirtless and was pacing the floor.
“Are you about ready?” I asked.
He paused. “Just about.”
He kissed me—passionately. As he broke our embrace, he lifted me from my feet.
Lightheaded from the kiss, I mentally fumbled to figure out what was happening. “What are you doing?”
He lowered my butt onto the edge of the island. “Sorry I was late.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “We’ve still got time.”
He glanced at his watch. “About five more minutes?”
I looked at the clock on the microwave. “Give or take. Why?”
He pushed my dress to mid-thigh. “Get this thing out of my way.”
Confused, I gave him a look. “What are we doing?”
“I’m going to lick your pussy for five minutes,” he replied. “Until we’ve got to go.”
Licking my pussy trumped a movie about men racing cars. We could be an hour late for all I cared. As luck would have it, I was sans panties. Eager to let him get to work, I hiked my dress to my waist and spread my legs so wide, I feared I might dislocate a hip.
“How’s that?” I asked.
He wedged his shoulders between my thighs and lowered his head into my lap. “Perfect.”