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“What?” he coaxed. “I won’t judge you.”

For a long moment she just stared out the window at the storefront. “Oral,” she finally blurted. “And I don’t even know how to do it right.” She fiddled with her hair, braiding a small section, then unbraiding it again, avoiding his gaze.

“That just takes practice and paying attention to your partner.” Drawing together every gentlemanly instinct he could muster, he managed not to offer to teach her.

“Thank you for not laughing. I know it sounds stupid. Especially in this day and age.”

“It’s not stupid. Everyone starts somewhere, if they start at all. And not everyone likes oral.”

She shrugged. “My parents were strict. By the time I was allowed to start dating, everyone else already knew how to . . .” She gestured vaguely. “When my last ex dumped me, he told a bunch of our friends that I was boring in bed.” It had wounded her, he could tell, and no wonder. One of her dainty hands came up to rub her forehead, then she glared at him. “Why am I telling you this?”

“Car trips,” he murmured, reaching out a hand to brush some hair away from her face. The strands were as silky as they looked. “They’re like therapy. I won’t tell anyone what you tell me.”

Before he pulled back his hand, she leaned into the caress, as though unable to help herself. Was she starved for affection, or did she like him? When she realized what she’d done, she drew away, dropping her gaze submissively. It was like a punch in the gut to a man who liked his women submissive in bed.

“Come on,” he said, wanting to touch her again, but restraining himself. He thought of all the handsy men his sister, Macy, had complained about before she’d met Jamie. Ophelia had pulled back, so he’d give her space. “Let’s get some retail therapy in too, while we’re at it.”

Chapter 5

The lighting in the store was bright and harsh. Why would anyone need to see beef jerky in high def? And why were they selling beef jerky in with the clothes and next to the fishing rods and pretzels? Maybe it was normal for everything to be mixed together like this. She’d never been inside a sporting-goods store.

Men, women, and children wandered around the place alone or in small groups. Most had carts, as though the place was a grocery store. Ophelia hadn’t been to many grocery stores in her life, but carts had always held a fascination. She’d never even pushed one, although they looked like fun. Even now as an adult.

“Maybe we should have taken a cart,” she said casually as he walked along a row of sleeping bags.

“Hmm. Yeah. I’ll go grab one.”

“No, no,” she said quickly. “I’ll get it.” She hoped he didn’t see her stupid grin before she turned away. When she got to the place where the carts were stacked together, she hesitated, not sure how to take one from the row when it was stuck to the one in front of it. A man walked past her and yanked one free, then offered it to her when he saw her watching him.

“Thanks,” she said. He nodded pleasantly and turned back to pull another one out for himself. Friendly bunch.

Feeling like a kid, she wheeled it back to where she’d left Luke.

“So are we camping or renting a hotel room? This is your last chance to chicken out.”

Chicken? She arched a brow at him. “I’m not scared,” she lied.

“Mm-hmm.” He threw two sleeping bags into the cart and led her farther down the aisle. When they reached the tent section, he picked a tent that said it was for six people. “Do you want your own tent, or are we sharing?”

“We can share,” she said, not meeting his eyes. She wasn’t about to be a baby about it. There was no point in wasting money. Friends camped together all the time, right? No big deal. It didn’t mean anything.

Besides, he’d been a gentleman the night before. He’d made a point of saying he insisted on consent. All the talk about kink had her hot and bothered, though. But how far did she want things to go? “But why do we need one for six people if there are only two of us?”

He chuckled. “The labeling is misleading. Let’s put it this way—the six people would have to be very small, and very, very friendly with each other.”

How friendly would he be with her in this tent?

A minute later he put one air mattress in the cart too. Were they sharing it? Did he think she was going to sleep with him?

She glanced at him sidelong, taking i

n the delicious build, the handsome face. He was easily the hottest guy she’d ever hung out with, making the other guys she knew seem like overgrown choir boys by comparison. But even better, he made her laugh, and it felt like he was interested in what she had to say, rather than just waiting for her to shut up so he could talk about himself. Jason never seemed to care about anything other than having her on his arm, and maybe having a captive audience while he rambled about his various music demos. He’d never once asked her what kind of music she liked. It was the first thing Luke had asked when he’d turned on the radio.

But she’d just met Luke. Did she really want to sleep with him? Already?

A few aisles down from the air mattresses, Luke chose a cast-iron frying pan and a kettle and put them in the cart. The play of muscle in his tattooed arms as he reached for things was very distracting. She was glad he was doing all the work and she wasn’t expected to think because she suddenly couldn’t put two words together. Damn, the man had sexy arms. The thought of him wrapping them around her, or those big hands holding her down while he . . .

Oh my.


Tags: Sparrow Beckett Masters of Adrenaline Erotic