Page 80 of Sinners' Appetite
Ican’thelpit.
Ever since Malachi admitted to once being sexually attracted to a man, I keep picturing it. I don’t know why, but it’s actually making me extremely wet.
I can just imagine what that would be like. I bet he would be the dominant one. He didn’t go into much detail, so I’m not really sure if he acted on it or not.
I’ll definitely be asking him about that later.
“It’s my turn now, hey?” Dean asks, choosing a card from his hand. He looks up at me with a devious grin on his face.
“Have you ever thought about fucking your best friend?” he asks me.
Sammi snorts and bows her head.
“Um—” I pause. “Yes.”
“That’s not surprising.” Jeremy grins while Sammi shoots me a flirty wink.
“Have you?” Malachi asks, seemingly enthralled by the subject.
“It’s not your turn, sir,” I tease, reaching over to squeeze his thigh.
“Oh—come on, baby girl. Tell us.”
“Not yet…” I smirk.
“Well, if you do, I want front row seats.”
I laugh and pull another card from my hand, looking over at Sammi this time.
“Have you ever given or received a golden shower?” I ask, barely able to hold back my laughter.
“Fuck no.” She looks over at Jeremy. “And if you ever try that shit, I’ll bite your entire dick off.”
Jeremy holds his hands up in surrender. “I promise, you don’t have to worry about that,” he laughs.
Since Sammi answered no, I reach over and draw a card from the pile, reading it to myself and laughing out loud.
“I think it’s your turn again, Nikki,” Sammi says.
I look over at Malachi, holding the card I just picked in my hands. “This one’s for you, baby.”
“Should I be worried?” he chuckles.
I smile and continue. “Have you ever messed around with someone of the same sex?”
His face goes flush and he lets out a low groan before responding. “I feel like this game is picking on me.”
“Answer the question,” I demand, squeezing his thigh.
His lengthy hesitation tells me everything I need to know, but I still want to hear the words come out of his mouth.
Suddenly, Dean gets up and heads into the kitchen. Malachi’s eyes wander in that direction, lingering on Dean as he opens a cupboard door and grabs a bottle of what looks to be whiskey.
When he turns back around, he finally answers.
“I’m not so sure that you wanna know the answer…” he says with a worrisome look in his eyes.
“Oh, trust me…I do,” I say, shooting him a wink.
