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“Yes. Sorry. I just—were you kidding around? I’m not good at gauging jokes.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. Hard. “Will it make you feel better to check the definition now?”

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded. “This will only take a second.”

I kneeled on the linoleum, studying him while he studied the Google entry for fleshlight. It was like watching the funniest silent movie ever made. Twenty expressions crossed his face in rapid succession. Surprise, embarrassment, fascination, interest…those were just a few. I’d never looked up the definition myself. I had to admit, I was a little curious.

“What does it say?”

“Um…it’s defined as a masturbatory aid, used by inserting one’s penis into the opening and—”

“And then what?”

Chet shoved his cell into his pocket and resumed his job as flashlight holder. “Masturbation commences and…I think you know the rest. Shall we continue?”

“Yes, sir.” I chuckled as I turned the knob and torched the ignitor. The ancient machine immediately hummed to life. “That should do it. Let’s check the thermostat and the vents.”

“That’s it?”

“I hope so. It used to happen every now and then when I lived here. If I’m wrong, the landlord will send someone out. He’s pretty cool.” I stood, wincing when I bumped my shoulder on the metal door. “Fuck.”

“Are you okay? Did you hit your bad shoulder?” he asked, resting his hand on my elbow.

“Mmhmm. Yeah.”

I closed my eyes briefly against a rogue wave of pain and sucked in a deep breath before opening them again. He was there. As in…right there. So close, I could see flecks of gold in his eyes and feel his breath on my cheek. I fought a very strong impulse to lean closer. That was a bad idea, though.

I’d returned his phone and fixed his heater. I had good karma in the bank. I wouldn’t do anything stupid.

No way.

“Does it hurt?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’re staring at me,” Chet whispered.

“You have something in your hair.” Bald-faced lie. So much for karma.

“Oh. Where? If it’s a spider or a spider web, please don’t tell me.”

I smiled. And it occurred to me that I’d smiled more in the past forty minutes than I had in a while. Unless Linc was around, of course. But that was different. Linc was a kid. He wasn’t jaded or cynical. His sense of wonder and possibility was fully intact.

So was Chet’s.

Generally speaking, I had to admit, I didn’t like other adults. They sucked. They were selfish, mean-spirited, entitled, and usually stupid too. Not this guy. He was…lovely.

And he was waiting for me to kill a spider or something.

I plucked an imaginary bug from his hair and pretended to eat it. “All better.”

Chet widened his eyes comically before snickering. “That’s almost, but not quite, funny.”

“Wait. I see another one.” This time I set my thumb under his chin, squinting till I could barely see to make him laugh.

He didn’t laugh, though. He went perfectly still.

Then he slammed his mouth over mine.

I was too shocked to do anything at first. I hadn’t kissed a man in over five years. I’d forgotten what it felt like. But I hadn’t forgotten how much I liked it.

The contrast of soft lips and end-of-day scruff was one of my favorite things, and Chet had that in spades. I molded my mouth against his and slipped my fingers through his hair, tilting my head to deepen the connection.

I licked the seam of his lips. And when he hummed in approval, I did it again, loving his needy moan when he opened for me.

Every twist and sweet, languid slide of his tongue sparked desire. It came at me in waves, one building on top of the other. I massaged his neck and bit his bottom lip before plunging in again and again. Chet set a tentative hand on my side, but as the fever grew, his inhibitions faded. He wrapped himself around me, pressing his chest to mine, sucking and licking hungrily. When he moved his hips, swaying with purpose against my crotch, he flipped a switch.

Talk about unexpected. I’d started my evening nursing a beer while watching a bad game by myself, wishing I were anywhere but home—until my cookie-wielding neighbor somehow turned my night upside down. I wasn’t clear about how we ended up here. However, I wasn’t about to question my good luck.

I didn’t want to push that luck either, but I couldn’t resist him. I grabbed his ass with one hand to hold him still and bit his bottom lip as I dragged my denim-clad cock over his. Once, twice…

He broke the kiss with a gasp and jumped backward, panting for air. “Oh, I’m—I don’t know how…”

I let him babble. I didn’t know how to get us out of this gracefully. A joke might have worked…if I could think of one. I came up blank. My head felt woozy, and my pulse was racing.


Tags: Lane Hayes The Script Club Romance