Page 50 of Nacho Boyfriend

I scoff. “They look hotter than sausage casings.”

“No, the material is thin and stretchy. They’re really comfortable.”

“Wouldn’t a dress be more comfortable?”

“I don’t really like dresses. I like something between my legs.”

I swallow hard.

“I mean, I need fabric there,” she amends. “You know… for the chub rub?”

“Uh, forget I brought it up.”

“Here, touch it.”

“Absolutely not.” If there is one thing I definitely do not want to do, it’s touching Olive anywhere on her body she would associate with ‘chub rub’. I don’t know what chub rub means, but I do know I want nothing to do with it.

“Don’t be an ogre,” she says, tugging on my hand and slapping it smartly right above her knee. “See? The material is breathable.”

“I can feel that.”

I can’t stop feeling that.

Of its own volition, my palm traces in sweeping circles over the curves of her thigh. Somehow, her leg ends up on my lap and my fingers graze the back of her knee, trailing a course to her calf. I find myself leaning in, wanting another taste of her lips.

“I think we’re being watched,” I say.

Her eyes dip to my mouth. “Oh? Do you think we should… perform a little?”

“That might be a good idea.”

It’s not a good idea at all. It’s a terrible idea.

“Okay.”

I scoot my chair closer to hers and move to the edge of my seat. Seizing either side of her waist with both hands, I pull her to me, sliding her bottom across the surface of the chair until her hip presses against my leg.

“I’m thinking I’d really like to see my girlfriend in a dress,” I say, my lips hovering over hers. “I’d like that very much.”

“Oh, you may want it, but you’re not going to get it,” she says huskily.

I wrap a strand of hair around my finger and pull gently. “I tend to get what I want.”

“Oh yeah? Well, get used to disappointment because… You. Can’t. Have. It.”

“I think I can.”

“Nope. Sorry. There will be no dress wearing for you.”

“You’re not even going to let me see the pretty things I bought you? I don’t think that’s very nice.”

“Maybe I’m not nice at all. Maybe I’m a man-eater.”

Dayum. Where did this side of Olive come from?

I growl against her lips, lowering my voice an octave.

“Do you want to put me in a bad mood, Olive? Because I can get very annoyed when people aren’t being… nice to me.”