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“We should move this along then. I’m sure you’re curious what position you’re interviewing for.” Missionary, doggy, whatever, I’m down.
“Think you’re funny, don’t you?” Grinning, I roll my window down. “I’m very amused by me.”
“I suck at games. I die a few times then get pissed off.” Wyatt chuckles. ‘I’d like to see that. I’ll bet you’re adorable when you rage quit.” “Of course. I’m always adorable.”
“You have a lake house?” “Yeah, I’m not a big fan of living in the city. Would you like to go? We can swim and go fishing or just lie around and relax. In between marathon sex sessions of course. If you’d rather stay here—” “You had me at marathon sex,” I interrupt, holding up my hand.
I swear I can practically hear his asshole pucker shut. “No way. Noooo. Not happening.” “What happened to being open minded?” “My mind is open. My ass is closed. Padlocked shut with a giant exit only sign.”
“Did you dot the I with a buttplug?” “That was Wyatt. He really seems to be into the butt toys. You should probably get a strap on.” My grin is devious when I turn to Wyatt and he shakes his head as I announce, “Oh, we already have one.” “That she has never used!” he insists. “My ass is padlocked, remember?” Wrapping my arms around his waist, I lay my cheek on his chest. “You have the key to my heart. I have the key to your ass. It’s fate.” “Not exactly a Hallmark card poem,” Martha quips. “He proposed with sex toys. You’re in the wrong place if you’re looking for classy,” Noble snorts.
