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“Damn straight I do.” Pressing one last kiss to her pussy, I climb to my feet. I carefully untie the lasso, frowning when I see the marks it left on her nipples and breasts. I run my thumb over the red lines. “Aw, Sunshine, this don’t look good.”

“It’s fine. It felt—Wyatt, it felt amazing. The friction of the rope, the little hit of pain…it was a lot, but it was also really, really good.”

I lean down and kiss her breasts, paying extra attention to her nipples. She moans when I take one, then the other, between my lips, stroking them with my tongue.

“Better?” I murmur against her skin.

She nods. “Yes. Much. Thank you.”

Straightening, I take her face in my hands and kiss her. It’s a soft kiss, a deep kiss, the kind she couldn’t seem to get enough of last night.

Was that really only yesterday?

How did so much happen in such a short amount of time?

How does it feel like we’ve been at this forever?

Because this kiss—it’s already comfortable, broken in. I tilt my head right and she tilts left, our lips moving effortlessly in an unhurried game of tug and release.

No awkwardness. No rush.

Just a really fucking great kiss.

The heavy feeling in my balls becomes unbearable. If I don’t make a move soon, I really am gonna come in my pants.

I’d much rather come in her mouth. Yeah, she’ll see the tattoo. But I can always play it off as an ode to our friendship.

Or you could tell her the truth.

Breaking our kiss, I reach for my zipper. “Ready for your next lesson?”

Her eyes flash. “Yes.”

“Good. On your knees, Sunshine.”

CHAPTER 16

Wyatt

TANGLED UP

But Sally,being Sally, decides to do her own thing.

Digging her teeth into her bottom lip, Sally reaches between us. I’ve already got my fly unzipped, so she slips a finger into the waistband of my briefs and slides that finger back and forth. Back and forth.

My dick leaps. I feel myself leaking everywhere.

“I knew you wore briefs,” she says. “Could’ve sworn I felt them when I accidentally touched you there on ladies’ night.”

“Wanna fondle me now?”

She grins. “I do.”

My heart lurches when she tugs my briefs and jeans down to my knees. My cock bobs heavily between us, but the silence that suddenly permeates the room is even heavier.

Sally is looking down. For a second, I wonder if she’s too busy ogling my dick to see my tattoo. But then she’s falling to her knees, falling back on her haunches so she can get a better look at my left thigh. Specifically the place where it meets with my groin.

Reaching up, she runs her thumb over the tattoo there, high enough up that it can only be seen when I’m naked.Smaller than my other tattoos, it’s a simple black outline of a vintage Coca-Cola bottle with the wordsNo. 7written underneath it in old-timey Western font. It’s a reference to the Jack Daniel’s Old No. 7 whiskey we’d put in our Coke bottles as teenagers.