He's Not My Type (The Vancouver Agitators, #4)

by Meghan Quinn

“Halsey Holmes has the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” When I look up, I watch a slow smile creep over Penny’s lips. She whispers back, “How big?” I wet my lips and say, “I stopped breathing for a second when he started . . . slipping it in. Took a good minute or so for him to, you know, fully get in there.” She leans back in her chair and stares up at the ceiling. “Wow, that’s great. Good for you.” “No, not good for me.” Her smile disappears as she brings her gaze back to me. “What do you mean not good for you? Did he hurt you? Is that why you walked in here weird?” “He didn’t hurt me, but yes, I’m walking weird because I sat on a light post several times last night.” She chuckles. “Penny, this isn’t funny.” “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand the panic. It seems like you had a good night last night.” “It wasn’t just good, Penny,” I whisper again. “It was life-altering.” “Explain to me how that’s bad.” I lean back in my chair and say, “I don’t know how to explain this other than . . . I feel like the world lied to me.” “What do you mean?” “Penny, I had no idea sex could be like that. That I could experience that much pleasure in a matter of like . . . seven hours. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced and not just because of his penis.” Penny smirks. “He was . . . God, it was like he knew everything about my body that I didn’t even know. He knew exactly what I needed before I could even consider where I wanted him or what I wanted him to do. And then . . .” I bite on ...