Streams and Schemes

by Rebecca Kinkade

This book is dedicated to anyone who fucks as a coping mechanism. You do you. Keep coping your brains out.

In fact, I’ve never seen a pair reach more impressive heights in my life. They’re practically stratospheric. Honestly, I’m shocked they’re not gathering ice crystals at that altitude.

So really, if anyone’s to blame for my mistake, it’s Starbucks and the motherfucker who invented the PSL, not me.

“Hey,” Lander interrupts, speaking over my shoulder. “Don’t touch her. If you put your hands on her one more time, I’ll rip them off and then sue you for getting blood on my suit. Am I fucking clear?”

I muted myself. Those are the first and only three words Lander has ever said to me.

Never date a lawyer, even if he makes every part of your

I’m not even sure I should be touching it because this ass feels priceless. It should be insured and guarded by 24/7 security. But I’m touching it. Gripping it. Fully kneading it. And fine, I volunteer: I’ll be the one to guard it. I’m selfless like that.

knew you were a camgirl. I knew, I watched, and I’m willing to bet I’m your best customer.”

“I only got to have you for fifteen minutes, but fuck, woman, I know you keep the best shit to yourself.”

Women bleed every month and literally grow babies in our bodies. There’s no reason we can’t fight like Kodiak bears and fuck like Valkyries.

“So I’m allowed to come inside of you, but I can’t come in your condo?”

My best friend Dalton was born exactly thirty-nine weeks after Bill Clinton was re-elected. That’s how we figured out who his parents voted for.”

The cursor blinks…or was it—was that a wink? Does this contract want me to close my laptop and enjoy myself on a Saturday night for once?

“Stalking is also a loose term for what I’m doing,”

“Did you know you always lick your lips before you come? It’s the signal for me to let myself go. I love it when we come together. You’ll learn to love it too. It can be our thing, baby.”

There’s something about a woman five years younger than me calling me a good boy that has me torn between finding enough rope to wrangle the moon for her or using that same rope to bind her and prove I’m neither good nor a boy.

“I have no doubt in my mind that I’m going to fall madly in love with you.”

He blinks. “Are you sure you want to know? I’m…” He trails off and stoops low before he whispers, “…still a fucking lawyer.”

“Are we good? Because I really don’t want to motorboat your boobs if we’re fighting.”

“You’re going to have to work so hard to stop me from keeping you, Lander Dawson.”

Tonight, it’s not Aurora Amada onscreen. It’s Valeria Fuentes. And I am so gone for her.

“Never—” Thrust. “Ever—” Thrust. “Ask me to lie about you again, Valeria.” THRUST.

That’s all it takes to be a great lawyer: decent reading comprehension and the ability to be scary as fuck.

“Then play I Spy with me.” “Dalton, we’re twenty-seven.” “I spy with my little eye…someone with a huge stick up his ass,”

There’s a lot of Spanish being spoken. All that Duolingo? Not helping.

“Morning. I was just telling Lander he sounds like a cat in heat when he comes,” Everett mentions while passing me an empty coffee mug. “A slutty cat,” Dalton chimes in. “A shameless one.” “He does,” I agree with a nod, which makes Lander release a betrayed scoff.

“Fuck, that’s a good line,” Dalton murmurs. “Sniper. Right to the soul,” Everett agrees.

Correction: our kink.

“Lander, we loved you the minute you bought Valeria a dildo,”

“This is childish.” “Yeah, well, I don’t have parents. Maybe I’m emotionally stunted.”