It was hard to stare at perfect abs and feel creative, each glance bombarding me with flashbacks of Luke in next to nothing.
Of course, the latest cover didn’t make things easier with a naked man dripping in honey, a best-selling wholesome romance author taking a stab at erotica under the cheeky pen name, Beau Nerr. Not one to take the dip lightly, she cannonballed into the sticky side, wanting a cover that made loins quiver.
I was delivering on the sexy, but my loins had too many questions to quiver.
Was honey safe for your bits and pieces?
Wouldn’t the poor guy’s balls get sticky?
How do you wash off that much honey?
Questions aside, I sent it off, sure her and her readers would love it, especially with the bad boy ink of the cover model, reminding me of a certain jackass. Paired with honey, I was ready to lick him.
I set my laptop on the side table and leaned back, staring up at the sparkling night sky. I’d work more in the morning, two chick-lits and a thriller needing different creative wavelengths.
There was also a familiar flutter below that made concentrating impossible, fueled by thoughts of Luke dripping in honey, that rigid body soaked in sticky. He might have been a rotten son of a bitch, but it didn’t cancel out how delicious he was, every inch carved for fantasy.
I wondered how things would have gone if I sat on someone’s dock, fucking the lying bastard just once. He owed me a good fuck, especially with the hell he put me through.
Those massive hands would feel amazing, holding my hips while I took what I deserved, his rock hard body a mass of muscle and ink plucked from my wildest dreams. My nipples puckered at the thought, and I bit my lip, fevered at the memory of him inside me, Luke Barrett a lover as gifted as he was packing.
Guilt nipped at me, knowing he had a girlfriend, the mystery Tally now lapping up what I’d once cherished. At the same time, I couldn’t resist the urge to rub my breasts, body humming. I’d give anything for my hands to be his, to feel them on me again after so long.
Issues aside, I wanted him, even more after seeing him at the opening dominating every room.
My fingers had a mind of their own, ignoring the burning in my stomach for the tingling below. My breasts ached with need, my hands not giving them what they longed for, so I skimmed one below, dipping to the waistband of my pants.
The drawstring did nothing to stop me, touching myself through the thin cotton, ready to get the show on the road.
I pictured his rough beard between my thighs, leaving me screaming with a few flicks of his tongue, that mouth as skilled as it was filthy.
I stifled a moan, circling myself, imagining my fingers as his, his hands sliding across my most tender place. I’d give anything to feel them, to ride that wave one last time.
A rustling in the grass made my eyes pop wide, my hand flying from my pants. I scanned the moonlit yard and saw nothing, but I could still hear shuffling, the crunch of dry grass.
There was a slight breeze, the soaring fir trees behind the cottage fluttering in the wind, but the sway of branches didn’t match up with the sounds I was hearing, crisp crackling of twigs, the scraping of pine needles. A sniffing sound joined the chorus, confusing me all the more.
What the hell sniffed like that?
Heavy steps snapped through the underbrush, barreling over the forest floor, the beast’s nose snorting rapidly.
Bear.
Holy shit.
There was a bear.
I flew to my feet, scrambling to grab my laptop, only to scream loud enough my neighbors in California could hear. A dog appeared out of nowhere and let out a bark as surprised as my scream.
A big ass dog.
Great. I was going to get mauled, all because I was frisky in the moonlight. I could see the headlines now, disappointing Dad even in death.
LOCAL WOMAN DIES IN FREAK SELF-PLEASURING ATTACK
DAUGHTER OF RETIRED POLITICIAN MAULED WHILE MASTURBATING
“Good dog!” I cooed. “Good dog!” I hadn’t had one since I was a kid, but all dogs liked to be told they were good, right?
It sat, the thump of its tail loud against the wood, tongue hanging out of its mouth while it panted.
“Where did you come from?” I asked, not sure if it was Luke’s dog or a stray in the dark. I eased over to my laptop and flipped it open, its screen illuminating the dog, and sure enough, it was Luke’s.
I couldn’t even masturbate without him ruining it for fuck’s sake.
“Where’s your human?” It wasn’t like it was going to reply, but if it made it less likely to eat me, I’d sweet-talk it all night long. She hadn’t sampled my flesh during our last encounter, but I wasn’t taking any chances. “Didn’t he tell you it’s naughty to run off?”
Her tail continued to wag, an ear cocked high while one flopped.
“Yeah, I know. I’m not one to talk, but your human is a dickhead.”
Instead of running off, she laid down, seeming to enjoy my rant, perhaps agreeing. God knows she had front row seats to the Luke Barrett shitshow.
“He’s a liar, you know? He told people I was the asshole. Me! I definitely wasn’t the asshole.” I lifted my glass, taking a sip. “I get the last laugh, though, because now he’s a big, hairy asshole.”
A big, hairy, sexy asshole, but still an asshole.
“Are you talking to my dog?”
I turned to see Luke walking across the side yard toward the porch drenched in moonlight, still in his get up from earlier with a few buttons undone to reveal ink.
“We were discussing life,” I explained. “You should watch your dog. This is the second time she’s wandered
