Page 27 of Spark

“I didn’t go looking for your journal, by the way.

I opened that drawer looking for a place to .

. .” I trail off when I notice Kendrick staring with laser-focus at the hot-pink dildo on the mattress next to me.

“Oh. Kendrick, meet Bruno,” I quip. “Bruno, this is Kendrick. Finally, my two favorite men meet each other.”

Kendrick chuckles. “You were looking for a place to what? Put your massive, pink dildo?”

“Cover your ears, Bruno.” I waggle my finger at Kendrick and fake-whisper, “Don’t body shame him.

He’s sensitive about his size and color.

” As Kendrick chuckles, I pick up my dildo and say, “Bruno, don’t feel ashamed.

There’s nothing shameful about masturbation.

Or being big and pink. You do a valuable service, when you do me.

” I snicker. “Or, rather, as the famed lyricist Kendrick Cook calls it, when you spank my monkey.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“I am. There’s no denying it. But the fact that I happened upon your journal, by chance, when I was innocently looking for a place to put some things, feels like a sign from the universe that you should let me read it. Don’t you agree?”

“I do not.”

“Come on, KC. Surely, in my shoes, you would have done the same thing.”

“No, I would have respected the privacy of the person who’d said, explicitly, ‘Don’t look at this.’”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know it’s a moot point, anyway, because, unfortunately, I didn’t find ‘Spank’ before you barged in here and ruined my fun.

” I gasp. “Were you spying?” I look around.

“Is there a nanny-cam in here? I wouldn’t put it past you, with those handcuffs in your nightstand. What’s that about, hot stuff?”

“Exactly what you think. And no, I wasn’t spying on you. My earbuds died, so I came back for my other pair. Now, stop trying to make a good offense your best defense, and apologize.”

“I’m sorry. I had a moment of weakness. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Your promises mean nothing to me at this point.”

“Smart man. But I really do mean it this time.”

“You didn’t mean it last time?”

“No, I did. I just couldn’t resist.”

“I think that’s even worse.”

“Is it, though?”

He crosses his muscular arms over his bare chest and lets out a tsk. “You really are a monster, aren’t you?”

“I am. Who knew? My family, I suppose. But who else?” I pick up Bruno and wave it at him.

“Now that you’ve seen my dildo, and I’ve seen your kinky little handcuffs, I feel like we’ve entered a new stage of our friendship, babe.

One where it feels perfectly natural for you to let me read your kinky little?—”

“No.”

I toss my dildo onto the bed in a huff. “Why are you being so stubborn about this? So what, you like to smack an ass on occasion? What could possibly be so shocking that you won’t let me read your dirty fantasies?”

“It’s not shocking. It’s just . . . Personal. Really personal.” He shifts his weight. Licks his lips. “Honestly, it’s just so fucking hot, I can’t believe I wrote it. Since we’re only friends, it feels like it would cross a line for me to show it to you.”

I open my mouth to speak but close it again. What can I say to refute that, really? If it’s that dirty, he’s probably right. But do I want that to be right? No. In this moment, every cell in my body wants him to show me what he wrote, anyway. Our friendship be damned.

“Will I show it to the next woman I have sex with?” Kendrick continues. “Hell yeah. Because I’m sure it’ll make her super wet and horny.”

My eyebrows ride up.

“But, you know, as friends, I think we should draw some boundaries in terms of how graphically we talk about sex and our hottest fantasies. As friends, should we really be talking about the stuff that turns us on the most? I don’t think so.

You’ve already found out more about me than I would have told you.

” He jerks his chin toward his nightstand, presumably referring to those kinky handcuffs, and I swear to God, my clit pulses in reply.

“Um, yeah,” I say slowly. “I get what you’re saying, in concept. But don’t you sometimes talk to your guy friends about sex?”

“Sometimes.” He smirks. “But not in graphic detail. And you’re not a guy.”

“So what? I’m still your friend.”

He stares at me, immovable.

“So, does that mean your lyrics are in graphic detail?”

“Very much so. They’re as graphic as it gets. Whatever you’re imagining, it’s that and more. Much more.”

My eyes widen. “Really? Jesus, Kendrick. What the fuck is in that thing?” I swear, the more he tells me about it while refusing to tell me about it, the more intrigued and turned on I get.

Kendrick drags his teeth over his lower lip. “Tell the truth. You want to read ‘Spank’ while using Bruno, don’t you?”

I haven’t thought about doing that. But now that he’s mentioned it, I’m instantly obsessed with the idea. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to doing that. Especially if it’ll make you give it to me. ”

Kendrick’s chest heaves. “I might have said yes to helping you out, if you’d been a good girl and respected my boundaries. But as it stands, I can’t give it to you, or else you’ll never learn your lesson.”

“I will, though. Right after you show it to me, I’ll learn a valuable lesson, I swear.”

Kendrick laughs. “About what?”

“Persistence.”

We both laugh.

“Sorry, I can’t do it, babe,” he says. “You’re a monster, and you need to learn.” He smirks. “Speaking of monsters . . .” He motions to Bruno on the bed. “Should we agree on a notification system for when you’re getting busy with Bruno? A sock on the doorknob, perhaps?”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll use him when you’re out.”

“I wouldn’t want to deprive you of a single orgasm, if you suddenly feel the urge to have one.”

What’s happening? I know his words didn’t say it, but it sure feels like Kendrick is tacitly offering to give me orgasms during my stay here. Am I crazy? Am I drunk on all the racy, imagined thoughts I’m having about what might be scribbled on the pages of “Spank?”

Kendrick lays his large palm on his bare abs again, drawing my attention to them, the same as before. “I normally jerk off in bed, but while you’re here, I’ll do it in the shower. Maybe that strategy would work for you, too. Is Bruno waterproof?”

The image of Kendrick jerking off in the shower flickers across my mind, sending tingles into my panties. “He’s waterproof, yes, but I wouldn’t be able to do my thing with him in there if I knew you could hear the telltale buzz from out here.”

He cocks his head with a smile. “Didn’t you just say there’s no shame in masturbation?”

“There isn’t. But that doesn’t mean I can relax enough to do it when I know someone can overhear me. I’m shy like that. Always have been.”

Kendrick jerks his chin at Bruno. “Is he the toy that gets you off better than any man?”

I forgot I told him about that. “Yeah. Not only Bruno, though. His forefathers, too.”

“Interesting. And too bad.” Based on the wicked smirk on his face, Kendrick clearly believes he could do better.

And you know what? Based on the way Kendrick was fucking Florence on that couch, and also based on what Tracy, our former tour manager, said about her time in the sack with this man, I think he might very well be right.

I’ve heard of unicorn men who are better than vibrators.

Well, damn, maybe Kendrick Cook is actually one of them.

“I tell you what,” I say. “If you let me read ‘Spank,’ I’ll use Bruno in the shower, while you’re still home. That way, you could invade my stated boundary, the way I’ve already invaded yours.”

“I’m going to need something far more alluring than that out of you. Like I said, it’s my hottest fantasies. I’m extremely vulnerable in those lyrics, Ruby.”

“Okay, well, maybe I could show you how I use Bruno?—”

“Let’s do it.”

“—on a guava or some . . . thing. Oh.”

“No. Yeah. I meant . . . Not on you. I knew what you meant. On a fruit. Yeah.”

We stare at each other for a long moment. Did he just say yes to watching me masturbate with Bruno? Did I imagine that?

His face red, Kendrick clears his throat and holds up the journal. “I’m gonna go hide this atomic bomb somewhere good. Somewhere you’ll never find it. And then, I’m gonna finish my workout and make a protein shake.”

“Cool.”

“You want one?”

“I’d rather poke my eye out. You know I hate those things.”

“Just thought I’d ask, out of politeness. You should try it sometime. Being polite, that is.”

“I’m polite. Monsters can be very polite.”

He laughs.

“Do you have any sandwich stuff? If not, I’d be happy to go to the store.”

“I already did, and, yep, I got all your favorite stuff. Stocked the fridge.”

“Aw, thanks. I’ll make you a sandwich to thank you, if you’d like. How’s that for polite?”

“Sounds great.”

“We can eat and watch a show.”

“Awesome. See you in a bit.” He pivots to leave but immediately turns back.

“I’ll be blaring Red Card Riot’s new album in my earbuds for the rest of my workout.

For about thirty minutes, I’d say, so I won’t be able to hear anything going on around me during that whole time, if you want to have a date with Bruno. ” With that, he winks and turns to go.

“What happened to those boundaries, dude?” I call out to his back.

“They’re overrated, anyway.”

“Then show me ‘Spank.’”

“Nope. Monsters must be punished.” It’s the last thing he says before he’s out the door. And a few minutes later, I hear the clanging of his weights in the next room once again.

When the sounds in Kendrick’s gym seem to be a constant thing, I tiptoe to the bedroom door, quietly close it, grab Bruno and his charging cord, and bring both into the walk-in closet.

After closing that door behind me, I find an outlet and plug Bruno in.

And then, I proceed to let Bruno have his way with me, while contemplating all the naughty, raunchy things Kendrick might have jotted down in that sexy, furious handwriting of his.