Page 84 of How to Blow It with a Billionaire
“You are so ridiculously hot,” I told him.
And, of course, he blushed—a pinkish tinge spreading across his cheekbones and down his chest. Which made him look, if possible, even better. It gave life to that perfect physique of his. A whisper of the imperfect to make him real. And touchable. And mine.
He was only half hard. Not exactly a ringing endorsement of what was happening so far but I wasn’t going to take it personally. Clearly he felt exposed and not everyone got off on that the way I did. Though I was hoping I could show him he didn’t have to be vulnerable. That control and distance weren’t always the same thing. And even if he was uncertain of himself, he never had to be of me. I would yield whenever he needed it.
I got settled by his side. Since I intended to be a while, it made sense to get comfy. “Can you grab some lube from the drawer?”
“Is that necessary?”
Sheesh. You’d have thought I was pulling his teeth, not his dick. “No, but it’s nicer.”
His knees shifted very slightly.
“I’m not going to cross the neutral zone, Caspian. That’s how you start a war with the Romulans.”
At last: a faint smile.
I grinned back at him. “Get me the damn lube, will you.”
He turned onto his side, pulled open the bedside drawer, and froze. “Good God. What’s all this?”
“Just your standard, everyday, perfectly average collection of sex toys.”
“I wouldn’t call this average, Arden. I would call it expansive. I mean—”
I glanced at what he was brandishing and shrugged. “Everyone needs a Fleshlight.”
“And a vibrating cock ring?”
“Hell yes.”
“What about…actually, I have no idea what this is.”
“It’s a guybrator. And that’s a prostate massager. And that’s a subtly but significantly different prostate massager. That one’s a very basic dildo.”
“And this?”
“A dildo in the shape of a tentacle. Obviously.”
He covered his eyes with a hand. “I don’t know what to say.”
“How about: I respect your commitment to self-pleasure.”
“This is quite the commitment.”
Oh bless. He’d gone all pink again. So adorable. “Well, like the lady says: If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?” Except now he had his I have no idea what you’re talking about look. I held out my hand and wiggled my fingers impatiently. “Lube, please.”
“Which lube? You own a lot.”
“Hmm.” I considered the matter. “The Boy Butter.”
“Boy Butter? Really.”
“It’s lovely, I promise. Can you”—a sigh I couldn’t quite stifle—“trust me. A little bit. Please.”
He passed me the tub without further comment.
I flipped off the lid, gathered up a generous dollop of soft creamy goodness on my finger, and set about getting my hands, and his cock, all warm and slick. Then I noticed Caspian was frowning. “What’s wrong?”
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