“Greg sometimes called me sweetheart, but never in that voice. I like your voice. It’s rough and growly and deep. Greg had a girly voice. And it got really high-pitched when he was excited. Like when he was about to come.”
He groaned. “That was too much information, babe.”
“He has a really small dick too. Do you have a small dick?”
“Babe, please,” he begged.
She risked a glance down. His boxers were plastered against his skin. “No, definitely not small. But then you’re my fantasy, so of course you don’t. I told him he was plenty big enough. That I wouldn’t want anything bigger. ‘Cause what does it really matter, right? Not like he did all that much with it. Few pumps and done.”
“Jesus, I will do anything. . .anything for you to stop talking about dicks.”
“Oh, I thought men liked to talk about their dicks. I don’t know that much about men.” She yawned. “I only ever slept with Greg. He seemed obsessed with his. But he was obsessed with most things. Hated almost everything I said and did. He really hated the next-door neighbor.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh, said he was bringing down house prices with his biker gang.”
“Not a gang, babe.”
She closed her eyes. “I think he was just jealous. Duke’s way better looking than him. Definitely got more friends. Has a fucking sexy-as-sin bike.”
“Don’t swear.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t sound right coming from you.”
That didn’t seem to make much sense. “What’ll you do if I keep swearing? Ooh, will you spank me? It’s been so long since I was spanked.”
She missed it. She tried to lean back to see him, nearly slipping over.
“Jesus, baby girl, will you stay still. You’re like a slippery eel.”
“Have you ever held an eel?” she asked suspiciously.
“I have,” he confirmed.
; “Bet Greg wished he had, his was more like a tadpole.”
There was a moment of silence then her dream man burst into laughter. “Babe, you’re fucking crazy, you know that?”
Her smile dropped and she hunched her shoulders. “Yeah. I know. Sorry.”
“Hey.” He tilted her chin so she was looking up into the prettiest pair of eyes she’d ever seen.
“Men don’t have pretty eyes, little rebel.”
“You do. Your eyelashes are all sooty and long. So pretty. You don’t put mascara on them, do you?”
“Fuck, no.” He looked horrified.
“That’s good. Greg—”
“Babe, please, no more Greg stories.”
She stiffened. What an idiot she was. No man wanted to hear about someone else’s ex. Even a dream man. Although it was kind of cathartic to talk about him. Wasn’t like she had anyone else to talk to.