Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
I’m also sure the top-tier glare he’s flashing has melted many a man, but I’m made of sturdier stuff than most, so I narrow my eyes and glare right back. “And whatever that cult meeting was, I’m not interested. Especially given the whole ‘virgin sacrificial vibe’ you were putting off.”
His lips twitch as though he’s fighting a smile. “Doubt you’d qualify, given your bag of goodies and the ‘party plans’ your friend mentioned.”
“Interested? We’re known for our toys for females, but we have a male-focused line with cock rings, butt plugs, pocket pussies, and prostate massagers.”
I’m well aware that I’m taunting him, and it feels like a dangerous thing to do, but the way the muscle in his jaw jumps when I say cock rings is too entertaining to step back from. “I’d be happy to get you a catalog and go over options with you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he grits out from between clenched teeth. I’m pretty sure that he’s speaking so quietly because he doesn’t want anyone to hear me, though.
“I’m a Bedroom Heaven consultant, specializing in intimate toys, erotic novelties, and adult products,” I explain. “No judgment here, just want to help people have fulfilling, healthy, satisfying sex lives.” I add a saleswoman smile to the proclamation, enjoying watching him play catch up.
“You sell . . . sex toys? Like the ones in your bag that spilled all over the stage?” he clarifies, sounding slightly less scandalized now that I’m not throwing around words like ‘cock’ and ‘pussy’ where someone else in the bar might hear.
“Yep, those and lots more. Today was our quarterly party, which was one door away from your thing.” I wave a hand in his general direction, still not sure what I walked into earlier. “You can blame the receptionist for that debacle if you’re still mad. But what the hell was that?”
Before he can answer, Jaxx stomps up to the table. “Hell no, Mr. President of the Young Dickster’s Guild. Leave my girl alone.”
I can’t help but smile at her automatic defense of me. Jaxx is the type who has your back, no matter what.
“It’s okay. I was just offering Mr. . . .?” I pause, realizing I didn’t get the Sex God in a Suit’s name.
“Chance. Just Chance.”
I lift a brow and smirk a bit at his reticence to even share his name. Fine, two can play that game. “Sam. Just Sam,” I reply to him before telling Jaxx, “I was offering ‘just Chance’ here a little lookie-loo at our catalog. I think the Naughty Neighbor is about his speed.”
My suggested product is a realistic fleshlight that’s as Plain Jane as they come, no nibs or ribbing inside, small labia that look porn-star-esque perfect, and no vibration. It’s barely one tiny step up from using your palm.
Jaxx’s black lips spread, flashing her white teeth, as she taps her sharply pointed nail to her chin and gives Chance an appraising look, which includes leaning back to check him out head to toe under the table.
“Naughty Neighbor? Bo-ring. But yeah, he looks too stiff for anything really fun. Can you imagine him with an Ass-Gasm or Black Hole Explorer?”
Not caring about any bar audience, she tenses up her whole body, like she’s trying to get away from Mr. Invisible butt-fucking her, and makes a weird dolphin-sounding noise. “Eee, eee, eee!”
“Hey!” Chance blurts out, seeming offended at her impression of him, but when Jaxx and I both glance at him knowingly, he relents. “I don’t know what I’m arguing about. I don’t even know what those are. Nor do I think I want to,” he admits.
Jaxx licks her finger and draws a tally mark in the air. “Point for Chance who recognizes that he’s probably never taken one in his life,” she declares. Planting her palms on the table, she tells me, “I gotta run. Kara needs help getting the Diamond Dick in her car. Are you good here or you wanna come with?”
She jerks her head toward the door of the bar, offering me an out. I should go with her. I have no reason to sit here with Chance. Jaxx could probably use my help, and I really need to take these heels off. But I was enjoying the banter with Chance before Jaxx walked back up, and I still don’t know what that meeting was.
I’m curious, and though I know that’s exactly what killed the cat, I find myself saying, “I’m good. Think I’ll sip my margarita, eat a few toasts, and see if I can sell one more item today.” I offer Chance a flirty smile that he returns, along with a chuckle at my boldness.
“Misbehave, you two,” Jaxx instructs us, pointing a finger at me and then Chance. She grabs her whiskey, tosses it back in one swallow, sucks the orange, and slams the glass back to the table.