Page 42 of Engaging Opal

A man on a mission, I don’t wait for my eyes to adjust to the dark before I’m moving. I walk briskly toward her, itching to get my hands on her.

Suddenly, I walk smack into something solid, knocking my head back as if it punched me. The room vibrates like a metallic gong. A galaxy of stars dances in my vision.

“The fuuuck,” I slur, falling back on my ass.

“Oh, my goodness!” Opal cuts the music, rushing to my side.

I swear I can’t see straight. She’s only wearing something that looks like a sports bra that barely contains her voluptuous tits and some booty shorts that don’t even cover her round peach.

She seems taller too. Is she wearing heels?

“Are you okay? What happened?”

I shake my head, trying to clear it. “Goddamn support post jumped out and bit me on the head.”

“You poor thing. Let me check.” Opal probes gently around the target zone on my forehead.

It hurts like a bitch, but having her delicate hands flutter across my skin feels like heaven after going without her touch for so long—the balm I’ve needed all my life. My eyes finally adjust to the low light, where I can clearly see her lovely face. I smile lazily at her as she nurses my aches.

“Good news,” she sighs, relieved. “You didn’t split the skin, but you’re going to have one heck of a goose egg. Let me grab some ice to get the swelling down.”

Before she retreats, I grab her by the hips, yanking her into my lap. She straddles my waist, the heat of her core pressed against my semi-hard cock.

“Don’t need ice. All I need is you and those plump lips of yours on me. Show your man how much you missed him.”

Giggling, Opal wraps her arms around my neck before leaning in and kissing me. Pleased, a groan emits from my throat, absorbing all the affection she gives.

Opal rears back. “Am I hurting you? Are you in pain? Maybe Flay should examine you.”

“Baby, no. Come back here. You’re the only medicine I need.” I fist my hand in her hair in the back of her head to hold her in place so I can kiss her properly. My lips claim hers and don’t stop ‘till the room spins.

When we break for air, Opal continues to track warm, wet kisses down my neck. I lean back, giving her more access to my skin. It now makes sense why Atlas prefers to be clean-shaven—more skin to be pampered by soft lips. I may need to make an appointment at Lloyd’s barbershop.

With my head lolled to the side, I stare down the offensive object that picked a fight and handed me my ass. My head may be foggy, but I don’t recall a chrome post smack dab in the center of the basement. The thing has got to be new. What’s its purpose?

Opal notices I’m distracted and pulls back to look at me. “Gauge? Are you okay?”

With my brows knitted together, I point at the post. “Is that…is that a stripper pole?”

“Um, yeah, it is.”

About a million questions collect in my head. I look her over again. My girl was alone in the basement in itty-bitty workout gear, moody music, and a stripper pole. “Have you been dancing?”

It may be dark, but I bet my Navy pension my innocent woman is blushing tomato red.

“I told the girls I used to dance, and they asked me to teach them. I may have been terrified of performing in front of horny men, but remove that aspect, and it’s a lot of fun. Great workout for your core.”

“In the dark?”

She looks sheepish. “I’m sorry you hit your head. It’s my fault. I removed the light bulb. The darkness makes me feel less exposed if someone were to come downstairs. Plus, there’s enough light from the basement windows.”

“Huh.” Makes sense. I’m not surprised the bunnies would be all over her, wanting to learn anything to up their game. Opal is a sweetheart for showing them the ropes and how to work a pole…

SAY WHAT THE FUCK?!

“Gauge, baby? You’re shaking?”

Seeing red, I’m about ten seconds away from going nuclear on my brothers who stayed behind. “Did they watch you?”

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