Page 31 of Hot Shot

“Right.”

Beck squeezes me and lets me go.

“My legs feel like rubber.” Hayden stands and rubs her thighs. “I might not be able to walk tomorrow.”

“If you can’t, it won’t be from this,” Beck says with a leer, bending down to smooch her lips and bump his hips into hers.

Great. They’re going to go home and do the sex thing, while I’m going to go home and do the hand thing with Mr. Big while thinking about Carrie’s sweetly bouncing breasts.

“Hmm,” Hayden says. “Feeling vigorous tonight, are you?”

“You know it.”

We pile into Beck’s Jag, Carrie and I crowded together in the backseat. In the dark as we drive to the restaurant, I’m hyper aware of her, the air around us humming. I have to stop myself from reaching out to lay a hand on her thigh or leaning over to inhale her scent. Luckily, the Cowboy Kitchen isn’t far and we’re soon seated in a booth in the restaurant. Of course Carrie and I have to sit beside each other, and Beck and Hayden slide onto the bench on the other side.

I checkout the rustic décor, with wood walls that look like we’re in a log cabin and big wrought-iron chandeliers. The scent of charbroiled meat fills the air and makes my mouth water. Damn that smells good. At least it takes my attention off how good Carrie smells.

“Do they have any nonmeat dishes?” Hayden asks, studying the menu.

“They do,” Carrie answers. “Check out the roasted carrots.”

“Roasted carrots?” I ask in a horrified tone. “That’s a meal?”

Carrie grins. “It comes with buckwheat and some other veggies.”

“Good fuck,” I mutter. I, too, inspect the menu. “Okay, I’m having a steak.”

“Me too,” Beck says.

We all order various beers from the extensive menu of craft beer selections. Carrie ends up going with the sea bass, which I admit does sound really good. I love fish and seafood. And yes, Hayden orders roasted carrots. At the last minute, I impulsively order a couple of appetizers to share—roasted mushrooms and steamed mussels in a chardonnay broth.

Once we’ve been served our beers, I ask, “So, Hayden, what’s your favorite sexual position?”

Hayden blinks, Beck frowns, and Carrie turns wide eyes on me.

“What?” I sip my beer, trying to message Carrie with my eyes that I’m gathering information for the games we’re going to play at the engagement party, but she doesn’t seem to get it.

“Why the hell do you want to know that?” Beck growls.

“Just making conversation.”

Hayden laughs. “Um, wow. Okay. I, uh, like the one where he lays half on the bed with his head on the floor and I’m straddling him.”

My mouth falls open and I stare at her. “What?”

Carrie falls against the wall, her body shaking with mirth. “What are you talking about, Hayden?”

“Yeah, whatareyou talking about?” Beck grins. “My head on the floor? Jesus. That sounds painful.”

Hayden grins. “Okay, I’m not sure what the name of it is. And maybe we haven’t actually tried it.”

“I’m not picturing it. But I’m definitely up for trying it.”

“Apparently your favorite sexual position says a lot about you,” Carrie says. “Like if you only enjoy missionary, you’re kind of boring.”

“Don’t knock missionary,” Hayden says. “Actually, it’s better if he moves up a little higher and kind of rocks against you instead of thrusting.”

I scrub a hand over my face, heat rising from beneath the collar of my T-shirt. “Christ.”

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