Page 43 of Proposal Play

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QUICK-DRAW MAEVE

Asher

Not gonna lie—I feel like a king.

But a very confused king since I’m sitting here on the couch, brow scrunched, dick deflating, wondering what the hell just happened. Besides the obvious—Maeve used my hard-on as a fast-acting sex toy, and that was outrageously awesome.

But…what’s next?

I glance around the room, searching for answers in our open suitcases, or maybe in the empty champagne bottle from earlier. I peer out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the lights streaking by below, the city still buzzing at—what time is it? I check my watch. Holy shit. It’s three. A yawn hits me, along with the reminder that I’ve got a game on Sunday night back home. I need to head to San Francisco in several hours, then gear up to crush our opponents a day later. Which means it’s time for someshut-eye, but my brain’s too busy cycling through shouldn’ts.

I shouldn’t have kissed her.

I shouldn’t have played roulette.

I shouldn’t have…married her.

But strangely, I don’t feel regret for any of those. I don’t feel as frustrated as I did when we left the chapel. I feel good.

Of course you do, asshole. You gave the woman a screaming orgasm in world record time.

Well, great nights often end with orgasms.

Trouble is now I’m left sorting through the mess of my emotions. Part of me feels like I’ve won something, some secret, fleeting victory. But there’s also that nagging voice reminding me I’ve crossed a line I swore I wouldn’t.

But what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? She wanted to kiss, and we did. Now it’s time to move on.

I push up from the couch as the sound of the shower patters in the background. I tug off my Henley, strip out of my jeans, and run a hand through my hair. I plug my phone into the nightstand and drop onto the bed. A yawn threatens to pull me under, but I resist. I need to be awake when she comes out. We need to talk, clear the air, and maybe, just maybe, figure out where to go from here.

Hey Maeve, you cool with coming like a teenager on my denim-clad dick?

Because I was. And…do you want to ride my dick like a wild cowgirl again?

“Fuck,” I mutter, because I don’t know what the hell to do next. But the water shuts off, so I’ll have to figure it out, stat.

A few minutes later, Maeve emerges from the bathroom, looking flustered and undeniably sexy in a camiand sleep shorts, her makeup scrubbed off, her skin dewy, and her hair tugged back in a pink fluffy headband.

She winces. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

Well, that probably won’t happen anytime soon. I shove my messy emotions aside as I sit up in bed. “Why did you want me to be asleep?”

She blinks, then waves a hand at my boxer briefs. They’re white and covered in pink birds. “You’re just in your flamingo underwear,” she says, her voice breathy.

“Do my flamingos tempt you?” I ask jokingly, when what I really want to ask isdo I tempt you,even though the evidence seems clear—see ExhibitO. But it’s such a foreign thought that she might feel the same way I do, especially when I’ve been wrestling with my own temptations on and off for the last two years.

She holds out her hands in surrender. “Clearly.”

“Would you like me to get a paper bag and wear that instead?”

“No. It’s just I feel…awkward,” she admits, coming over to the bed and flopping down. “This never happens,” she mumbles.

“Sharing a bed?”

“Yes, no, maybe. But also…” she groans, dragging a hand down her face, before muttering, “Coming quickly.”

Oh.Oh.Once again, I am king, and may I reign over the land of Maeve’s pleasure. “Why is that a problem?” I ask, fighting off a smug smile.

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