Page 158 of Things We Left Behind
“I’ll go with the truth then. They’ll be horrified,” I joked.
His grip on my hair tightened. “Would you rather spend the afternoon being interrogated by your friends or letting me fuck you?”
Me:I’m having my septic tank pumped! The fumes are powerful! Anyone want to come over for game night?
25
I Will Not Apply a Chemical Peel to My Dick
Lucian
It was an exceptionally gray Monday. The invigorating February air was razor sharp as it hit my lungs. I felt awake, alive, ready to greet the day and destroy my enemies.
“Good morning, sir,” my driver greeted me.
“Morning, Hank,” I said, sliding into the back seat of the SUV. “How was your weekend?”
He blinked. “Um, fine, sir. Is everything all right?”
“Everything is excellent.”
“That’s…good.” He closed the door with a look of concern.
I pulled out my phone and typed a text to Sloane.
Me:Good morning.
I frowned at the words. They seemed flat and inconsequential considering the sexual acrobatics we’d performed all weekend long.
Me:Good morning, beautiful.
No. Definitely not. That one made me sound like a lovesick Morgan brother. I immediately deleted the text. What was the appropriate Monday morning greeting for the librarian who had fucked me into oblivion repeatedly?
Me:My cock is chafed.
Sloane:Good morning to you too. I think you sprained my vagina with too many orgasms.
Me:Is there some kind of balm or laser resurfacing treatment for this kind of situation?
Sloane:Repeat after me. “I will not apply a chemical peel to my dick.”
Me:I had two charley horses in my calves last night.
Sloane:Poor baby. Drink some pickle juice and then tell me how I’m supposed to not think about our rabid fucking every time I sit down today.
Me:If I have to be haunted by our poor choices so do you.
Sloane:Good thing we wised up and won’t be making the same mistake again. Our sex parts need time to heal.
Me:Glad we got it out of our systems. I haven’t even thought about you naked at all in the last four seconds.
Sloane:Hold please. I need to get through a staff meeting today without thinking about your “staff.”
She would think about me all day long, I decided with manly satisfaction as I pocketed my phone. Good. Not that I’d give her a second thought, of course.
“What happened?” Petula demanded the second I stepped off the elevator.
“With what?”
