Page 23 of Skotos
He thumped a ball.
“Ow. Fuck!”
“What’s your name?”
“Will. My name is Will. Are you—?”
He flicked again. “Your name?”
Oh, right, my new cover name.
“Will Barker.”
He took my cock in his mouth again.
The ache of my balls ebbed as pleasure crashed like a wave in my chest.
“Where are you from?” he asked, again looking up from his task.
“Ohio . . . somewhere small . . . somewhere where men don’t stop in the middle of—”
His hand smacked my ass hard enough to leave a print.
“This is a test. If you can’t remember your cover while I do fun things, how will you remember it under the pressure of a rifle?”
I laughed.
Yes, with a man cupping my balls and slurping saliva from a blow job dribbling down his chin, I actually laughed.
“What?” He cocked his head, clearly missing the double entendre of the gesture.
“Fear is one thing. I’m used to that. Having someone try to suck the life out of me while drilling me on my cover is completely different. Do you honestly expect the Greeks to sex-torture us for information?”
“The Greeks have always been creative in that way.” His merciless hand squeezed my balls. “Besides, it could be fun. Maybe we should ask for ‘diplomatic cover,’ if you get my meaning.”
The eyebrow waggle did it.
I was toast.
Laughter tumbled out of me so hard that I fell over sideways onto the couch. Any semblance of a sexy scene flitted away as though an invisible hand had flicked a dandelion and sent our passion fluttering on the wind.
Thomas dove, his evil digits targeting my exposed ribs.
Before I knew what was happening, my vile, repugnant, irreverent husband was tickling the ever-loving shit out of me, and tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t remember ever clenching that hard, but even the tiniest relaxation would’ve had me spewing pee all over our living room.
“Thomas, stop!” I cried through gasps.
He straddled my naked body, his half-clothed weight pinning me down as he dug even deeper.
I sprang a leak.
It was tiny, only a drop or two.
Until it wasn’t.
Then Old Faithful erupted, and Thomas’s chest was coated in acrid yellow liquid.
“Oh, fuck, Will! You could warn a guy.”
