Page 32 of Hot Shot

“You’re the one who started this.” Carrie nudges me with her elbow. “Guys who like having sex standing up, against a wall, are apparently more adventurous, and turned on by the idea of being naughty.”

Beck grins. “I’d say that’s accurate.”

“I also like the pretzel,” Hayden says.

“Okay, this might have been a mistake.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“What’s the pretzel?” Carrie asks. “Hayden, you crazy woman, you.”

Hayden laughs. “It’s like doggy style, but face to face. You just kind of twist at the hips. It’s great.”

“Forget this,” I sat, desperation edging my voice. “Let’s talk about . . . about . . .” I flail around mentally and come up with nothing.

“I didn’t know you liked that so much.” Beck smiles warmly down at Hayden. “We can do that tonight too.”

“Oh, you reallyarefeeling vigorous.” She smiles back at him.

Damn. The sexual chemistry between them is scorching. I’m happy for them, I really am, but I can’t stop imagining Carrie twisted beneath me while I enter her, or on her hands and knees while I enter her, or . . . Jesus. I swipe my sweaty brow, my dick getting all excited.

Luckily I’m saved by the arrival of the appetizers I ordered.

“I have to gram these,” Carrie says, pulling out her phone.

I frown. “Seriously?”

“She has, like, a billion followers on Instagram,” Hayden says. “Because of all the beautiful pictures she posts.”

“They’re mushrooms,” I say, eyebrows lifted.

“Not abillionfollowers,” Carrie mutters, focusing on the dishes.

“Okay, a few million.”

Carrie swipes at her phone screen, taps, and then tucks it back into her purse. She picks up a mushroom and pops it into her mouth. “Oh wow, these are good.”

Unfortunately, she sounds like they’re orgasmically good, and my mind goes there, wondering how she sounds when she comes, whether she’d make a little moaning noise like she just did or whether it would be louder. My dick swells against my leg inside my jeans and I shift on the padded bench.

“So good,” Hayden agrees. “And the mussels are awesome too.”

“Eat more, honey,” Beck urges her.

She picks up another shell and poises her fork over it. “Why?”

“They’re an aphrodisiac.”

“I think that’s oysters, not mussels. And that’s a myth. People thought oysters were an aphrodisiac because they contain zinc, which is needed to produce testosterone, and also amino acids and serotonin. But there are no randomized control trials that confirm oysters have any effect on sexual desire.” She holds up the mussel. “If there’s an aphrodisiac effect, it’s because this looks like female genitals.”

I choke on my beer.

“Sheisa scientist,” Beck says seriously, but his eyes gleam. He turns back to Hayden. “It gets me all hot when you talk about randomized control trials.”

“Okay, how about those Padres?” I say in a last attempt to change the subject away from sex.

8

CARRIE

I wince a little at the soreness in my thighs and calves as I leave home to go to the gym the next afternoon. Maybe I don’t need to work out today, after all that jumping activity last night. Well, I’ll just do an upper-body workout today.

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