For fuck’s sake, stop grabbing shit from the box!What is wrong with me?
“You are not asking me that.” He scrubs a hand over his mouth before running his fingers through his hair.
“Yes, I am.” My lip twitches, and I’m realizing how much I’m enjoying making Ash squirm. Maybe that’s the real reason why I can’t seem to stop. Maybe it’s not curiosity. Maybe it’s…something else. A need to get under his skin the way he gets under mine every damn day.
Yeah, that’s it.
“Pretty sure that’s an inappropriate thing to ask your employee.”
“Pretty sure calling your employer ‘daddy’ is also inappropriate,” I counter. “This looks like a toy.”
His brows pinch. “Uh, yeah. It is a toy, obviously.”
“No. Like, a child’s toy.”
Ash snorts, biting down on his bottom lip, and I hate the way my eyes track the movement and my mouth waters at the sight. The urge that hits me to replace his teeth with mine has my heart hammering inside my chest. My blood heats as it feels like my body is awakening.
I don’t like it.
It’s only because there are sex toys on the counter. That has to be it.
“It’s not a child’s toy,” he finally muses, and it’s then I notice how flushed his cheeks are. In fact, the color goes down to his neck. I wonder where else he’s blushing.
Swallowing thickly, trying to bring some moisture back to myverydry mouth, I ask, “Then what is it?”
He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, we find ourselves in some sort of tension-filled staring contest, like we’re trying to see who cracks and looks away first. Except neither of us does. Finally, he drags his wet, pink tongue across his lips and stands a little taller, shoulders back, as he says, “It’s a dual-ended pocket bussy.”
Fucking hell.My dick perks up at that for whatever reason, but then I replay what he said. “Wait.” Holding up a hand, I ask, “Did you say‘bussy’?”
A smirk tugs on one corner of Ash’s mouth as he nods, almost like he’s goading me to ask the question he knows I’m about to. Like he can see the wheels turning. I grind down on my molars, contemplating not asking at all, but we’re already here, and apparently, I have no sense of self-control tonight when it comes to the contents of this box, so may as well.
“Don’t you mean a pussy?”
He shakes his head, biting back his growing grin. I should put a stop to this; he’s clearly finding amusement out of this, and I have no reason to be questioning him about his sex toys. But every time I tell myself I’m going to set it down and walk away, I don’t. Something is keeping me rooted in place in this kitchen.
Heaving a sigh, I finally say, “Okay, you got me. What the fuck is a ‘bussy’?”
Taking a step closer, putting him at the counter, Ash presses his palms down as he peers up at me. “Well, I’m gay, Finn.” My pulse kicks up hearing him say that. I kind of assumed that was the case, with the way he jokingly calls me daddy, but we’ve never outright had the conversation. Suddenly, I’m regrettingeverything. Making him squirm was fun, but now he’s somehow flipped it around on me, and now my body is reacting in a way that doesn’t make sense to me. Fuck. “So, pussies aren’t of much use to me.”
He gestures toward the device in my hand as if his explanation cleared everything up. And after another tense, silent moment, it clicks, and I’m embarrassed to admit the way arousal shoots through my veins. It shouldn’t.
My lips part as my heart races. “Ah.”
I need to get out of here. I should leave the kitchen. Go to bed.
Drop the fucking toy, Finn, and walk out of the kitchen.
Fuck, why can’t I seem to move?I’m frozen in place, and my ears ring with how fast my pulse is racing.
Ash huffs out a small chuckle as I try to ignore the way my dick is sitting at half-mast behind my pants. If it weren’t for the island bar separating us, he’d be able to tell.Why the hell am I getting hard?This has never happened before.
These areAsh’stoys.
And Ash is a man.
Why are his toys and how they’re used arousing me?
What. The. Fuck?
