Page 21 of Some Like It Hott

We board his boat—a decent-sized fishing boat that Brody tells us is a “thirty-five foot Scout”—and sets us up in the large open bow on cushioned benches. It’s really nice. Rachel sits down with us, a small crate at her side, while Brody heads into the cockpit.

He cruises us out a short way onto the lake, which is—beautiful. It’s surrounded by mountains, a few of which still boast snow coverage on their highest peaks. The sun is low enough in the sky to barely kiss the tops of the trees at the lake’s edge, and a breeze blows its woodsy scent out to us. I breathe deeply. I can definitely see HSE’s guests loving this.

“Basically,” Rachel says, “we can host just about anything on board the boat. We regularly do book clubs, product parties, wine tastings, bachelorette parties, craft nights, a whole variety of other girls’ nights out. And we’d be happy to do any-slash-all of those things for Hott Springs Eternal.” She spreads her hands. “But I also thought it would be great for us to do something branded specifically for HSE. That’s what I’ve prepared for you. I’m tentatively calling it the Wedding Launch.” She looks from Preston to me and back again, opens her mouth, closes it again, and shrugs. “Apologies in advance if this is”—she looks directly at Preston—“not what you were expecting when you showed up tonight.”

She reaches into her crate and pulls out a bottle of champagne, which she adeptly pours into two flutes and offers to Preston and me. Next she hands us each a small plate on which she arranges a few extremely classy appetizers. And a small cocktail napkin.

She doesn’t take any for herself.

Uh, I see. We’re the newlyweds.

Preston doesn’t look at me. I don’t look at him. I sip my champagne.

“Obviously we’d aim to do it a bit later at night. Under the stars. And we’d go out further on the lake, where the mountains are more visible. It’s basically a honeymoon kick-starter.”

“‘Honeymoon Kick-Starter’ would be a cute name, too,” I say, sipping my champagne and trying as hard as possible to act like I knew I’d be pretending to be Preston’s new wife when we boarded this boat.

“Once the couple is settled in with food, I’d offer a just-for-two version of my classic one-hour presentation.” She leans down again and pulls some items out of the crate. “I start with candles and oils and lotions, and then if people are open to it, we talk about reciprocity and intimacy and…”

Without breaking stride, Rachel takes our champagne glasses and plates and sets them in clever holders clearly optimized for on-board dining, then hands us some of the contents of the crate.

I look down to discover I’m holding a vivid red two-headed vibrator and a set of bright pink Kegel balls.

I check the contents of Preston’s hands.

Yup.

Fleshlight in one, warming gel in the other.

He has a loose, almost panicked grip on his items, like he’s holding two hot potatoes. Like they’re burning his skin.

My eyes rise to his face. A blush darkens his already naturally dusky-tan cheeks. I can’t tug my gaze away from it or the way it spreads down to his neck. I want to trace the line of red with my fingertip and ask him what’s got him so hot and bothered.

But only to annoy him.

He’s given me a hard time since the first moment we crossed paths, and I want to push back.

That’s theonlyreason I hold up the clit-and-G-spot vibrator and say, “Oh, I have one like this back at the lodge!”

And then turn it on and press the vibrations against my fingertips.

10

Preston

My face is hot, which is remarkable only because I’m pretty sure all the blood in my entire body is in my cock.

Natalie owns something like that—with the shaft on one side and the small, forked tip on the other side—that she uses…

I have to make myself stop because I absolutely cannot finish that sentence and survive.

I carefully set down the Fleshlight and the warming gel and pick up my champagne and small plate, because as awkward as it felt to role-play being newlyweds with Natalie, it was way, way better than holding sex toys while she buzzes the tips of her fingers in a way that feels downright…pornographic.

“What about you, Preston?” Natalie asks, innocently. “Do you have one of those at home?” She gestures—with the still buzzing vibrator—at the Fleshlight.

No one is playful with me. My marriage was never playful. I don’t think that for most of it, Kali liked me enough to want to play.

Even my brothers know better than to mess with me. They might rib me here and there, but they treat me with the wariness you reserve for someone who finds it hard to laugh at himself.

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