My face burns ten times hotter than the heat emanating from the sweaty center of the room. “That’s nice of you to say, but I’m taking it slow, looking for someone who I’m not even sure exists. The Unicorn Man.” I give a hard wink. “But, since I’m pretty good at mythology math, it might be a while, thus my trusty sidekick”—I hold up my purse a moment—“a gift from my sister, by the way, unused—so you can rein in your naughty imagination for the night.” Not that I want him to. His eyes remain settled over mine with a thick sexed-up gaze, and this, right here, is what I envision being Caila is like. Men flock to her perfection. Her level of confidence commands this caliber of attention—from this caliber of a god.
“The female version isn’t quite as high-tech, so I’m forced to opt for the real thing.” He winces as if embarrassed to have gone there. “Not that I’ve gone that route. I guess guys just need the real deal because you’re too hard to replicate.”
“Nice save. And you’re right. That must be why you men whore around so darn much.” I cock my head to the side, unleashing my inner Caila for a moment. Who am I kidding? Caila would have hauled him off to the back and had him twice by now.
He gives a wistful look around the bar. “I’d like to whore around a whole lot less. If I keep up my current pace, my parts are in danger of falling off, if you know what I mean.”
“That’s why you should whore around with just one person—you know, to keep things safe and sane. I’d hate to see you saying goodbye to any of your boy parts. It’s always nice for a girl to have a complete trio to play with.” Gah! Did I just really go there? With Piper’s brother no less? If Piper ever finds out I’m speaking to her big bro with such nauseating intent, she might be prone to render me speechless by way of a pillow over my face in the night.
“Good point.” He tips his beer my way. “And my trio demands to stay together.” He looks pained at the thought of anything contradictory happening.
“I hear ya. Too bad there’s not a way to have a little fun on the side while separating the sheep from the goats.” I give a wistful look myself to the crowd. “You know, like a service that provided something just this side of platonic that doesn’t get too complicated—a steady Eddie that’s simply there to rev the engine once in a while.” Back in high school, my boyfriend thought it would be a great idea to have a little fun on the side without telling me. Just the memory enrages me. “No cheating, though!” I shout up over the music. “You know.” I down the rest of my frozen concoction in three long drags and feel the icy burn all the way to my stomach.
“I get it.” He leans in with that smoldering look in his eyes, and my bones melt with lust for this boy. “Someone to warm your bed while the hunt ensues.”
“Exactly! A glorified bed warmer!” I hack it out over the pulsating rhythm that’s beginning to make my head swim. Mini Caila has suddenly dawned pompoms and is kicking me in the side of the head with her rabid enthusiasm. And much like mini Caila, I’m liking where this bed warming train is headed.
“Bed warmer.” He belts out a laugh that gets drowned out by the hysteria of the mob that’s taken over this place. “Where do I sign up?” There’s a spark in him that suggests he’s teasing, but that sharp gaze of his is saying game on.
I pull my purse forward, clutching the leather satchel housing my new boyfriend as if I were declaring my loyalty. Then in an outward act of defiance that makes mini Caila toss a confetti parade of condoms in my honor, I fling my purse with my newfound electronic boy toy to the side.
“Sign-ups are right here, baby. The first bed warming session begins tonight.”
Cade
Cassidy Clayton is a walking wet dream. Perhaps not the most delicate analogy of a woman that my hyper-sexualized brain has come up with, but by far the most accurate. She’s beautiful and witty, and that accent of hers is enough to make me want to rip my beating heart out of my chest and hand it to her on a platter. I’ve done that before, to a girl from Tennessee to be exact, and in no way am I willing to reenact that painful scenario. I push Sammy to the back of my mind. This is Cassidy. Beautiful, stunningly beautiful Cassidy. And she’s just presented an offer too damn tempting to ever pass up.
“No,” I flatline before my dick starts in on negotiations. There’s a hard pinch in my boxers as my balls offer up a swift protest.
“No?” She scoots back in her seat, incensed by my refusal—and she should be. There’s not a man alive who should ever say no to Cassidy.
“That’s right, no.” I’m pretty sure I’ve met my quota on that word for the night—perhaps for the rest of my life where this girl is concerned. My gut wrenches as I take in her creamy blonde hair, that perfect pout on her lips that my own mouth begs to cover.