I lift my eyes and make contact with his. And that’s all it takes to finish him off. “I’m about to come. You need to stop now if you don’t want me to do it in your mouth.”

  Shit. I don’t know if I want him to do it my mouth. I haven’t done this before, so I’ve not thought that far in advance.

  I can’t do it. At least not this time. I need more experience before I try that.

  I stop sucking, and Porter grunts/moans/groans as cum shoots out on my chin and neck and chest. “Ohhh… fuck, Frankie.” He says that a lot.

  He releases his hold on my head, and I sit back on my heels, my upper body covered in his semen. Porter looks at it, I think admiring his work, before stretching across the bed to grab his T-shirt. “Come here. I got you good, baby.”

  He wipes me clean and then I lie down beside him. He takes my hand in his and weaves our fingers together. I love when he does that. Makes me feel special. “That was fantastic.”

  “You aren’t disappointed that I didn’t swallow?”

  “You gave amazing head and let me come on you. How in the world could I be disappointed?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m not experienced like the other women you’ve been with.”

  “I like that your only experience has been with me. I want to keep it that way.”

  He says he doesn’t want anyone else to have me. I might have an idea about what that means if I weren’t leaving in ten weeks. But I am leaving.

  This is about sex. Hot sex. Not falling in love. Neither of us can afford to forget that.

  11

  Porter Beckman

  Frankie and I stayed up until three in the morning. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. Not when she was wearing that sexy-as-fuck lingerie.

  I’ve never seen anyone wear anything like that. Sure, I’ve watched porn and seen it on those women but never on a real-life woman. And never one in my bed.

  Frankie is like my very own porno princess.

  I gave her six orgasms last night—one an hour. I’ve never done that before. Not that I don’t have the ability. I’ve just never been inclined to.

  “Frankie.”

  She doesn't stir. Not even a little. I shake her shoulder this time. “Frankie. Wake up, baby. I have to go.”

  She rolls to her back and slowly opens her eyes. “Someone fucked me into next week. You'll have to check back with me when it comes around to see if I can wake up.”

  “You don't have to get up, but I do have to go.”

  “No. Don't go. Staaaay.”

  She has no idea how badly I want to.

  At some point during the night, Frankie washed off her makeup, and I’m seeing her for the first time without cosmetics. It’s confirmed. She’s a natural beauty and doesn’t need that garbage on her face.

  “I wish I could stay in this bed with you all day, but I promised Oliver I'd help him move his stuff to his new house today. I was supposed to be there already, but I couldn’t bear to leave when you looked so beautiful in my bed.”

  I already know he’s going to give me shit for being late.

  “Wait a minute… before you go.”

  Frankie dashes to the bathroom, still wearing her porno princess attire from last night. That is one convenient getup. I hope she has more of those.

  She returns from the bathroom with her hair twisted into a topknot. I don’t know what it is that makes that so damn sexy.

  She wraps her arms around my shoulders and lowers herself to straddle me on the bed. “Kiss me before you go.”

  Her mouth is minty. And hungry, based on the way she devours my mouth and neck. “Is this your plan for tempting me to stay?”

  Her hands are working to undo the button and zipper on my jeans. “No. This is.”

  I lift both of us from the bed and push my jeans down my thighs. “One more time, porno princess, and that’s it. I have to go.”

  I grab a condom from the drawer and roll it on. “All set.”

  She sinks down hard and groans when I’m balls deep inside her. She holds my shoulders and rides me, sliding her pussy up and down my cock. I’d love to feel her come around my cock one more time.

  “Roll your pelvis forward when you come down.” I grasp her hips and guide her movements. “That’s it. Just like that.”

  Once she has the hang of it, I move my hand between her legs and rub her clit.

  “You are so good at that.”

  She squeezes my shoulders and presses her forehead to mine. “Ohhh… yes, yes, yes.”

  Her entire body quivers, and her pussy tightens around my cock. And it’s my undoing. “Fuck, yes.”

  I buck, slamming my pelvis into Frankie’s, and her hold on me tightens. We are getting good at this coming together thing.

  I grab her face and kiss her hard. “You have sucked me dry. I don’t think I have one sperm left in my body. Every single one of them is swimming in a latex balloon in the trash.”

  “You’re tapping out?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “Such an old man.”

  I palm her breast and pinch her nipple. “Do you have more of these getups?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I could only afford one.”

  “I’m going to leave you a credit card on the bar. Order more of these. All kinds. Buy enough of them to surprise me in a different one every day for the next two weeks. And order anything else you think we might need to try.”

  “I’ll need to ship it here. I don’t want my parents intercepting any of it.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Scott would kill me if he found out Frankie was wearing porno panties for me.

  I smack her bare ass. “Up. I gotta go, baby.”

  She rises and slides off my dick. “I’m going to be away for two days. Don’t forget our agreement. No other women.”

  Frankie forgets that I’ve been playing the field for a long time. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’ve never found a woman half as desirable as her. “I don’t want anyone else as long as I have you.”

  “Good answer.” She kisses my mouth one last time. “I’m going to shower before I go. Do I need to do anything special about locking up?”

  “Don’t worry about the alarm. I’ll show you another time how to arm and disarm it.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll see you Monday then.”

  I hate leaving her. I wish we could have the rest of the weekend together. But I also hate leaving things as they are without any kind of discussion concerning communication for the rest of the weekend.

  The shower is already running when I go back into the bedroom. “Want to text me later?”

  “Yeah. I can do that.”

  “Okay. Drive carefully. And you remember our agreement too. No other guys.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  I take out one of my credit cards and leave it beside her purse on the bar. I go to the drawer where I keep spare keys and grab one of the extras for the condo.

  I scribble out a note for Frankie.

  Porno Princess,

  I had a wonderful time last night. And again this morning.

  I’m already anxious for more. I’m eager to see what other kinds of surprises you choose for us.

  I’m also leaving you a key to the condo. I think you’ll be needing it over the next several weeks.

  Yours,

  Magic Mouth

  I find Oliver in the dining room of his new house. “Well, I’m here, motherfucker. What do you need me to do?”

  “I just love how you show up after I’ve already unloaded everything from the truck.”

  I guess I am sort of a dick for showing up two hours late, but it was hard as fuck leaving Frankie. Harder than it should have been. “I was doing shit.”

  “I know what kind of shit you’re doing—just not who you’re doing it with.”

  Frankie and I must not be doing an awful job at keeping our relationship a secret if my own best friend hasn’t figured it out. “You don’t know anything.”

  “Why so secretive? Is she fugly?”

  No. That is one thing she is not.

  I left a beautiful woman wearing porn-star panties to come over here and help his ass. Frankie and I could have spent all day in bed together. This better not be in vain. “What do you need me to do?”

  “I need help getting my furniture out of my apartment.”

  I can’t envision Oliver’s bachelor pad furniture in this nice house. “Lawry’s letting you bring that junk over here?”

  “My old stuff is going to her workshop so she can refinish it. Wants to give it life again.”

  I suspected as much. Lawry wants to repurpose everything. Damn hippie. “How could I forget? Turn crappy into happy.”

  I run my hand over a box labeled Brewster. Our first beer brewer. “Wow. I haven’t seen this in a long time.”

  “Me either. Been boxed away for years.”

  Brings back a ton of memories. A good kick-in-the-ass reminder about how far we’ve come and what we can accomplish together. “You should put it on display. Maybe down at the brewery if Lawry won’t let you do it here.”

  “Not a bad idea. Like a where-it-all-began plaque.”

  I move to the large window and pull back the curtain to see the surrounding neighbors. “This is very you.”

  “The floral shit will be the first thing to go.”

  The house will be cool when Oliver and Lawry finish with it, but right now it does looks like a grandma lives here. “I meant the house and quiet neighborhood. The privacy. Your own driveway. Garage. Workshop.”

  I’d kill for a garage like his. I hate putting my Porsche in a rented storage building across town. Such a pain in the ass to have to work on it away from home. But that’s condo life.

  “I’m hoping I can pick up my woodwork projects again.”

  Woodwork projects. That sounds like something a husband does. Not a single guy who’s looking for a different girl to fuck every night. “The only thing you’re lacking now is the wife and kids to complete the full package.”

  “I think I’ll just take the house for now.”

  “Do you ever think about it? The full package?” I know he did once. He was going to ask that cheating bitch to marry him before he caught her in bed with another guy.

  “I haven’t for a few years.”

  “Right.” I guess you don’t think about that kind of stuff when you don’t have a woman that you’d consider sharing that kind of life with. I know I haven’t.

  “There’s a house for sale two streets over if you’re considering giving up condo life.”

  I wouldn’t mind leaving it behind and having a place like this. Maybe it’s something I’ll consider.

  A pretty redhead coming toward Oliver’s house catches my attention. “Well, that all depends.”

  “Depends on what?”

  “If all the women in this neighborhood look like the one walking up your driveway right now. If that’s the case, house sold.” Oliver suspects I’m sneaking around with someone. Maybe even in a secret relationship. I need to show him I’m still game, still noticing beautiful women.

  “No idea. Haven’t met any of the neighbors.”

  He moves to the window to see what I’m talking about. I can tell that he likes what he sees. “Looks like I have a visitor to receive.”

  Oliver moves toward the door but stops and looks at me when I don’t follow. “You comin’?”

  I shake my head. “Nah. You go on. I’ll wait in the truck.”

  “Wait in the truck?”

  I admit it. I always try to beat Oliver to the girl. But not this time.

  “Who is she?”

  I try my damnedest to keep a straight face, but it’s impossible. “Already told you, dude. Nobody.”

  “Damn liar.”

  I chuckle because it’s killing him to know I have a secret fling happening. “That redhead’s your type. Go meet her. I’ll be in the truck when you’re done.”

  “This conversation isn’t over.”

  This conversation is over. “Whatever.”

  “Gimme five.”

  Oliver is full of shit if he thinks he’s only going to give this woman five minutes of his time. “Got a Benjamin in my wallet that says I don’t see you for at least fifteen.”

  “Sure. I’ll take that bet. I can always use an extra hundred bucks.”

  Oliver can never resist one of my bets. I hold up my phone. “I’ll even give you a whole minute to get out there and initiate the conversation before I start the timer.”

  “You’re on, fucker. Get ready to pay up.”

  It’s blazing hot in Oliver’s truck, so I start the engine and air conditioning. I decide to pass the time by looking at Frankie’s pictures on Instagram, but her account is private. For shits and giggles, I send a request to follow. But mostly I want to see what kinds of pictures she posts.

  Twenty minutes later, Oliver finally comes to the truck. He opens his wallet and tosses a hundred-dollar bill at me. “She’s a hot-as-fuck, unmarried redhead and she bakes.”

  “Sounds like you just found your dream woman.”

  “I don’t know. Getting involved with a neighbor seems questionable. What happens if things go south?”

  “I happen to love it when things go south.” I especially loved it last night.

  “Think about how many times you’ve fucked a woman and then a few days later, she shows up at the brewery because she doesn’t know where you live.”

  That has happened more than I care to admit. It’s gotten downright ugly a few times. I never asked either of them to do it, but Scott and Molly have spared me some shit by putting a stop to anyone getting beyond the office and warehouse entry door. I know they’ve done the same for Oliver.

  And now I’m fucking Scott’s daughter. What a way to repay the guy.

  “I can see your point. May be best to leave that one alone.”

  I know my best friend: he’s thinking it over, wondering if this one is worth the risk.

  Sometimes it is.

  12

  Frankie Dawson

  Brooke is standing at the apartment door waiting for me when I arrive. “Why are you so late getting here?”

  Do I tell Brooke and Dillyn I’m late because I didn’t crawl out of Porter’s bed until almost noon? “I have a good reason.”

  “It’s only a good reason if it involves that fine-ass boss of yours.”

  “It does.”

  “Get your ass in here and tell us all about it.”

  “Can I put my bag down first?”

  Dillyn takes my bag from me and tosses it on the floor. “Bag is down. Now tell us everything about last night.”

  I smile and the two of them burst into giggles.

  “Look at her, Dillyn. She’s blushing.”

  I’m sure I am. I feel the heat in my cheeks.

  “That means it was good.”

  I’ve been hearing about Brooke’s and Dillyn’s sexcapades for three years. It feels strange to be the center of attention. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Duhhh… the beginning. We want to hear everything.” Dillyn is a details person. She wants to hear about every little thing.

  “The first thing he did was take me to a tattoo studio. You aren’t going to believe this. He found my sketchbook and saw a drawing I had done of one of his tattoos. I had added some new design work to go with it and he had the tattoo artist do it. He put my design on his arm. A piece of me. On him. Permanently.”

  “That’s some significant shit.” Brooke means business when she uses the triple-S term.

  “You really think so? I don’t want to make more of it than it really is.” That would be so embarrassing.

  “Hell yeah, that’s significant. And special. He’s wearing you for the rest of his life. He’ll never be able to look at his arm and not think of you.”

  “That’s exactly what he said.”

  “See? He knows that putting your design on his body is a symbol of something important.”

  But our relationship is so new. Why would he do that?

  “What happened after the tattoo?”

  “He took me to dinner… and then he took me to bed.”

  Brooke squeals. “How was it?”

  “Well, what I didn’t tell you was that last night wasn’t the first time. We did it earlier this week.”

  Dillyn’s mouth is gaping. “Whaaat? The last we heard was that he drove you home after the concert and kissed you. I can’t believe that you withheld this information from us all week.”

  “I didn’t want to talk about my first sexual experience and what I thought about Porter’s dick on speakerphone.”

  “Tell us everything.”

  “You know I don’t have anything to compare it to, but oh my God… Porter is…” I struggle to come up with the right words. “…spectacular in bed.”

  “Did he make you… you know? Happy?” Happy is Dillyn’s word for orgasm.

  “He made me happy six times last night. And then again this morning.”

  “I’m so fucking jealous. Do you know how many times I’ve had to reach down there and do it myself because the guy just couldn’t get it right?”

  “I’ve been with guys who couldn’t make me happy if their life depended on it. I tried with one guy at least six times. He just didn’t have the talent for it.”

  “I assure you that Porter has the talent. His mouth… it’s magic.”

  “He doesn’t mind going down?”

  “He loves it.” I grin when I recall all the things Porter has said to me about my lady bits.

  “What’s that smile about?”

  “He says he loves everything about my… P.” I can’t say pussy to my friends. I can barely say it to Mr. Filthy-mouth.

  “You lucky bitch. You know all guys aren’t like that, right? They’re takers, not givers. They want to put their dicks in it until they’ve had their fill and that’s it.”

  “I don’t have to worry about that with Porter. He is all about making me happy.”

  “Gah, I wish I had a guy who was all about making me happy.”