Page 16 of Slay Ride

He looks past my shoulder, and his face lights up. “What’s all this about?”

My stomach climbs out of my throat as he heads straight for the nightstand. I shoved the toy into the drawer, but I forgot to unplug it first. The cord still dangles from the drawer to the wall. By that gleam in his eyes, I know he knows exactly what waits inside.

I can’t stop him. I’m forced to stand here and watch in slow motion as his fingers wrap around the golden knob. The panicand disbelief freeze me so fully that I can’t even utter a cohesive argument when the drawer begins to slide open.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I didn’t know masturbation could be considered a hobby,” he says. “Do you claim this shit on your taxes? There must be at least a grand worth of toys in here. At least tell me your collection is insured.”

He plucks a rope of anal beads from the drawer and holds them up to the light. I want to die.

“You must have a tight little asshole if that’s the biggest you can fit in there,” he says with a laugh. “All that ass and can’t do a damn thing with it. What a shame.”

My senses return, and I snatch the beads from his hand and shove them into the drawer. “My room isn’t part of the tour, and the size of my asshole isn’t any of your concern. Please keep your STD magnets away from things I put in my body.”

I push the drawer closed and point to the door, but he just laughs and shakes his stupid head.

“Get out of my room,” I say, hoping a verbal rendition of the order will get him moving.

He leans closer. “Make me.”

I place my hands on his chest and push, but he’s like a brick wall. Completely immovable. I push harder, but that just makes him laugh.

“Harder, kitten. You’re turning me on.”

An idea strikes me. If I want to win this game, maybe I need to play by his rules.

“Actually, you can stay right there,” I say. “Make yourself comfortable if you like, but I have a dinner to get ready for.”

I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it off, leaving me in nothing more than a bra and a lacy set of underwear. I’m turning up the pressure, just like he did to me in the natatorium.

He seems completely unfazed, however. He takes my suggestion and sits on the edge of my bed as if I’m not nearly naked here.

That’s fine. I can keep going.

I reach behind me and unfasten my bra, then toss it to the floor to join my shirt, but this doesn’t seem to affect him either. If stripping until the 0ther person gets uncomfortable were a sport, I’d be losing. I need to take this up a notch and make him so miserable that he has no choice but to admit defeat and leave.

“Scoot over. That’s my side of the bed.” I motion for him to move, and he does. Shit.

He’s already seen the sex-toy collection, so I rip open the drawer and pull out the Magic Wand again. It’s still plugged in and ready to go. I place it between my legs, rubbing the silent head right on top of my panties.

This does nothing for me, and I’m not even remotely turned on, but I let out a soft moan and pretend it feels amazing. I even throw in a subtle roll of my hips.

To my horror, Bennett rubs the swelling crotch of his pants and releases a low growl deep in his chest. Surely he doesn’t plan to compete?

I spread my legs and turn the device to its lower setting. “Mmm, Maverick, that feels so good.”

Bennett follows suit, lowering his pants and stroking a mass that leaves me blushing. I’ve seen it soft, and it was impressive, but holy shit. Do big dicks just run in the family? Kindra regaled me with tales of Ezra’s cock, and I always thought she was exaggerating. I’m sorry for ever doubting her.

My gaze snags on the vertical bolt of silver piercing his cock, just below the head. I shouldn’t stare, but then I see his balls. Two more piercings run horizontally through his sack. I’ve never seen anything like it in real life. Only in porn.

But it isn’t Bennett’s cock I should be thinking about, so I force myself to look away. I count to ten so that he doesn’t think I’m feeling some kind of way about him, and then I let out a louder moan.

The bed begins to shake as Bennett speeds up his strokes. He makes sounds to match mine, but they’re much more masculine. Groans, growls, and grunts rush from his parted lips instead of moans and whimpers.

If he’s trying to match everything I do, I’ll just have to up the volume. Nothing is more ridiculous than a man screeching like a woman, so he’ll be forced to reach my heights or admit defeat, and I get a laugh either way.

“Oh, god!” I yell. “I’m going to come! I’m so fucking close! Don’t stop, baby!”

“Yeah, you little slut!” Bennett yells, matching my volume. “I’m gonna come too! I’m gonna fill that little pussy!”

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