Page 59 of A Real Goode Time

“Where ya goin’?” she drawled. “Taking care of things?”

I glanced at her over my shoulder. “No. The opposite.”

“What’s the opposite of jerking off?”

“Thinking about old nuns and dead puppies.”

“Oh.”

“Why, you wanna watch again?” I smirked.

She had just come out from under the covers again. “Nope.”

I hesitated in the doorway of the bathroom, and then turned to face her. “You gonna take care of issues yourself?”

She lowered the blanket a touch, and narrowed her eyes at me. “Nope.” Should I reveal my little secret? Her eyes met mine and they narrowed even further. Blush reddened her cheeks to flaming pink. “I saw you this morning. You’re a good dancer.” The blanket was still at her eyes. They twinkled, mischief sparkling in them.

“Am not. I just move my hips a little.”

“You wiggle your butt. It’s…I was gonna say cute but that’s not really the right word.”

“And what is the right word?”

“Sexy,” she whispered. “Like the rest of you.”

“Whisper at me like that while you’re half-dressed in the bed, and I’m already fighting this little issue, and we’re gonna have an issue.”

“What issue?”

“Where I do something I never do—break a promise.”

“What promise?” That whisper, low, sultry, seductive without trying.

“That I wouldn’t touch you unless you made it clear you wanted me to.”

“What’s wrong with the way I whisper?”

I swallowed hard. Clutched the doorpost until it creaked—she’d tugged the blanket down to her throat, and her smile was…hesitant yet bold, seductive yet shy. Complicated. Intriguing.

“Nothing wrong with it.” I let out a breath. “It’s just…one more thing to make it superhard for me to resist you.”

“Resist me?”

“Been down this conversation with you, Torie.” I had turn around, away from those eyes, those lips. That throat, the delicate butterfly rhythm of her pulse. “You know I want you like crazy. I know you don’t want to start nothin’. And I don’t have the ability to go partway with you.”

“It’s dumb to have this conversation from across the room,” she whispered. “Just come get in bed.”

Get in bed…with her?

God, that was a terrible idea…but a great idea.

I got in bed.

Stiffly—no pun intended. I lay down, arrow straight, arms at my sides, like a corpse. I stared at the ceiling.

Torie rolled to face me, on her side. She poked the side of my bicep. “Hey.”

I sighed and tugged the blanket up to hide my erection. I couldn’t see any of her but her face and throat and a hand. Yet, the erection remained, like I’d taken Viagra. The erection wouldn’t go away.