Another vagina gets stabbed.
“Just so you know, I had zero interest in Emitt,” I decide to point out.
Another vagina gets acquainted with the merciless needle point.
She gives me a bland look over her shoulder. “I don’t do this for every hint of competition, Sicily. Really,” she goes on, acting as though I’m an idiot for not already knowing that, while she absently stabs another vagina. “There’d be a lot more dolls if that were the case. These are just the rivals for men I saw a future with.”
Annnnnd…another vagina meets its doom.
She pauses and stares at that one. “That guy always had butt plug breath, but she still stole him before I could dismiss him. Only right to prick her vagina from time to time, even if she does have to kiss ass daily as punishment.”
“Perfectly normal,” I mutter under my breath while I quickly unpack.
Bobby Jo is the one person crazy enough to make me and my accidental pornographic ways feel normal.
“Your sexy drink of man juice just walked in, by the way,” Bobby Jo says, causing my hands to freeze mid-air with the shirt I’m holding.
“Anderson?” I ask, aiming for casual and aloof, but sounding high-pitched and ridiculous.
She rolls her eyes like I’m so transparent. “Go see him and let him shove that meat thermometer in you so I can get some details about size and such. Been curious. And do it now, because I have an issue with dropping the kids off at the pool when someone else is too close by.” She gestures to the open door of our connected bathroom. “And the turtle head is playing peek-a-boo through the shell curtains back there right now, if you know what I mean.”
I just blink at her as she stares at me with total seriousness, when suddenly, what she’s saying clicks in my brain.
Ewwwwwww!
Well, that totally gross visual gets my head away from sex. Far away.
I start to leave, unsure what the hell someone says to a comment like that, when she adds, “He’s only three rooms down! Found that out for you.”
She gives me a conspiratorial wink, then her eyes bug, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh! The turtle’s not going back in the hole!” She darts into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her, and I shudder in disgust.
Taking a deep breath, I walk out, then realize there are doors on both sides of the hall. I’m not sure which door Bobby Jo was saying was his. Deciding she meant the same side as us, I summon up my laughable amount of courage and knock, ready to find out how we’re going to handle this weekend.
Maybe we can just work and pretend nothing else is—
The door swings open. Kasha’s dad, Roger, stands in front of me, his shirt on backward and his hair a mess. Per the usual, since he’s a lab-rat who rarely ever leaves his work.
But why is he here? This place belongs to Kasha’s mother and stepfather.
“Sorry,” I blurt too loudly when he continues to stare expectantly at me. “I was looking for someone else—”
He shuts the door on me, confusing me a little. Then I remember his social skills are on par with mine.
Just as I take a step back, I hear the sound of a door opening. Before I can turn to see who it is, two strong hands grab my waist and haul me back while a small squeal bubbles through my lips.
The scene blurs past me as I’m jerked inside, and a door shuts, seconds before a set of very familiar, sexy, perfect lips land on mine. And…I forget everything else.
Well, I forget everything else for a very consuming few minutes of tongue, hands, and lips.
I can feel Anderson’s grin against my lips as I shove at his chest. He pulls back, his eyes sparkling with amusement, when I try to glare at him.
“Looking for me, Sicily?” he muses. “Does that mean I’m forgiven for being an ass?”
He brushes a piece of errant hair away from my face, his fingertips brushing my cheek accidentally, but still causing a slight tremor. Why do I turn into a puddle around him now?
I give up the ruse of being annoyed, since my traitorous body is leaning toward his more and more.
“Your inadvertent Bieber Fever confession sort of cooled me off,” I tell him with a small grin that I can’t stop.
His smile instantly grows, and he presses closer, invading the small amount of space there was between us. As he thumbs my bottom lip, his gaze flicks to mine, holding me there.
“Is that why you were looking for me?” he asks, his hand sliding down to gently cup my neck from behind. His other hand slides down to my hip as he continues to keep his eyes locked with mine.
I have no idea why I actually went looking for him. Now that I’m standing before him and his hands are on me, I’m struggling to think about anything else.