Page 46 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

“None.”

I scoff. “Well, that’s not fair.”

He laughs. “It’s true!”

“So, I could whip out a dildo and shove it up your ass, and you’d be fine with that?”

Bronson thinks it over, but only for a second. “Yeah.”

“Bullshit!”

“Hey, you bring the lube. I’ll bring the booze. We’ll have a good time. Easy.”

I chuckle, shaking my head.

He looks at me, amused. “What boundaries do you have, Jordan?” he asks.

I pause, exhaling hard. “Hell, what boundariesdon’tI have?” I say, only half-joking.

“Start small. Can I kiss you?”

My chest quivers. “Can you kiss me?”

“I know a girl that’s strictly below the waist,” he says. “No kissing.”

“But you have sex?” I ask.

“Yup. We just don’t kiss.”

I try to picture that, but it seems so strange. “I like the kissing part.”

“Me, too.”

“I can’t even imagine having sex withoutkissing.”

“It’s doable. Not nearly as fun, in my opinion, but doable.”

“You can kiss me,” I decide.

Bronson nods. “Noted. What else?”

“You’re really gonna make me list it all out?” I ask, my cheeks burning.

“How about…” he says playfully. “We kiss. We have the most vanilla of stress-killing sex. We figure out the rest as we go. Does that sound okay?”

I look him over, my gaze falling on his cock once again. His shaft is even harder now, as if this entire conversation is foreplay all by itself.

“Okay,” I answer. “But we’re still just friends.”

“Just friends,” he repeats with a nod.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re great, Bronson! But I don’t think we should…”

“Date?”

“God, no!”

He exhales, relieved. “Neither do I.”

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