Page 63 of Love and Other Risky Business

Mina’s nose wrinkles. “Cute that you think I’m bored when you’re not around.”

I laugh, but walk to the other side of my walk-in and grab a box off a shelf, handing it to her. “For when you miss me.”

“It’s a poker game, not summer camp,” she says, looking at the box. She holds it up. “Why do you have so many sex toys? Do you give them out at Halloween?”

I can hear the real question under her quip—does my ex with the sex toy company send me products? Or a.k.a. is that door really closed?

“My sister sends them. I got her the job with my ex and if great-aunt Glenda gets toys, I do too.”

Something catches her eye, and she fumbles the box. “This one is four hundred dollars!”

“It’s a limited edition, and that particular model is the Ferrari of clitoral stimulators.” I motion to the boxes on the shelf. “Anything in a sealed box is brand new and all yours. Anything in this drawer is mine. If you’re curious. You can snoop.”

Her cheeks go pink.

I let out a low whistle. “Mina Andrei. You’ve already snooped. While I was in the hospital.”

She doesn’t confirm or deny, but the pink deepens on her face. “The orgasms from these things are supposed to suck your soul out of your body,” she says, redirecting the conversation. I don’t care that she snooped—I only want to know if she liked what she discovered.

I pull her into my arms. “No baby, only I can do that.” I kiss down her jaw to her neck. “Want me to give you a hand with this Ferrari of a sex toy? I’m a professional driver, and this is a closed course.”

She moans a little and her body melts into mine. For a moment, I think I’m going to get away with it. But Mina’s control is too damn good. She breaks away from me. “Go play with your friends, and if you don’t disgrace yourself, after, you can play with me.”

I scoff because I’m not going to disgrace myself. I’m pretty good at poker. “I’ll take enough of Nic’s money alone tonight to buy you another Mioe dress, so think about what you want.”

This isn’t true, we keep it low stakes and the most I’ve ever won in a night is one hundred dollars, but I can’t help it. Mina smiles at me because she knows I’m full of shit and I kiss her until she makes me stop.

I’d still rather spend the evening with her, but at least I know she’ll be in my room, giving herself knockout orgasms with that toy. Grabbing my wallet, I head down to the basement.

The room goes silent when I walk in. I can feel Nic’s eyes burning into me and I have to pretend Dex doesn’t exist, but I survive.

“Can I join you?” I ask.

“How’s your sister?” Danny asks, and I can’t tell from his voice if he knows that was an excuse or if he thinks I was talking to her, but I do catch the dirty look Nic gives him.

I grin. “She’s good. Still in Italy, sampling the locals.”

Nic’s eyes turn to me and he is unamused. I grin back. “Take a seat,” he says, the tone in his voice telling me he doesn’t want to hear about Jessie.

I grab a chair and push in between Nic and Curtis so I can talk all night about my sister. Not that I need to play dirty—Nic can’t act, which means he has more tells than anyone, as long as he doesn’t settle into his resting dick face. Those tells are more subtle. Not for me, but for everyone else at the table.

It hurts when they talk about work and I’m reminded of everything I’m missing, but there’s more to the conversation than the job. Danny’s stories about his five-year-old daughter Freya get laughs, and Curtis talks at great length about his teenage brother’s antics.

Dex is still mostly quiet, but Mina loves me and he was nothing more than a brief bit of fun for her, so I can deal with it. I’m not ready to apologize for my part in the accident—the loss of my job is still too raw—but I can put him at ease by treating him like everyone else.

As the hands go by, I start to feel more at home. More myself. My friends still accept me, and it might be hard, but it’s going to be okay.

Chapter twenty-one

Mina

Icomedownstairsaftermy shower one morning to find Timothy doing yoga in the living room, P!nk blaring over the house’s sound system. He’s wearing navy blue boxer briefs and nothing else, his firm ass pointing to the sky as he does Downward Dog. A light sheen of sweat coats him, and he smiles up at me when I stop at the edge of his yoga mat.

“You better not be doing this too hard,” I say over the music.

Timothy’s smile widens. “Just hard enough.”

“I’m talking about your head, not your cock,” I say, heading for the coffee.

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