Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
“Against your…what?” I leaned in, lowering my voice for his ears only in a deeper than usual timbre. “Your cheek, your lips, your thighs…your ass?”
“My…my…” he sputtered. “Really?”
“Sure.” I rubbed my bearded chin and nodded. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”
Cody shook his head vehemently. “Definitely not.”
I chuckled. “How about licking your ass?”
He stared at me for a long moment. I expected him to tell me I was out of line…and I was. Disgusting? Also possible. What I didn’t expect was for him to say, “Are you referring to the cheek or the actual anus?”
I busted up laughing. Seriously, busted up. I hooted as I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. I noted a few curious glances aimed our way. Cody did too, but he didn’t back down or try to retract his inquiry. He awaited clarification…like a true scientist.
“The latter,” I said. “If you’ve never tried it, I highly suggest adding it to your sexy-time repertoire. You won’t be sorry.”
“Hmm. There are a lot of nerve endings in that area. I suppose it makes sense.”
“Yep. The pudendal nerve branches to the dorsal nerve in the male and female anatomy. For a man, the close proximity of the prostate to the anus makes it especially…enjoyable.” I shot a mischievous smile his way before tipping back the last of my beer.
“Whoa. You either memorized this passage on WebMD or you’ve done intensive study regarding—”
“I’m a med school dropout,” I admitted, shifting on my barstool to pull my wallet from my pocket.
“Really?”
“Yep. I’m the human equivalent of a guide dog who didn’t quite make the cut. Written exams were a breeze for me, but I struggled with the big stuff. And I internalize too much.” I tapped my temple and handed my card to the bartender when I realized I’d blown all my cash on a tip earlier. “A good doctor has to compartmentalize. I suck at that.”
“I see. But why are you afraid to get medical assistance now? Knowledge is power.”
“True. I guess it’s a personal flaw. I learned the hard way that it’s best to emphasize the positive, follow your passions, and live the hell out of your life,” I replied, nodding my thanks to the bartender, then scribbling my name on the receipt.
“Good advice, but it helps if you can see what you’re doing. You put the tip in the wrong place.”
“I never put the tip in the wrong place,” I rasped with a wink.
“Oh, I get it. Sexual innuendo. However, you did write the numerical tip incorrectly.” He pointed at the line above my signature meaningfully.
I scowled. “I meant to do that.”
“Mmmhmm.”
I gave him serious side-eye as I pushed the receipt away. “You’re humming. What does that mean?”
“Nothing. It’s just that…you’re not what I thought.”
“How so?”
“You’re smart.”
“You thought I was dumb?”
“No, not at all. But I assumed you were more…how should I put this? Worldly rather than book smart.” He smiled tentatively, then added, “Maybe you’re both.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Or maybe I’m like a lot of folks out there with a headful of shit they can’t use while trying to make sense of whatever’s left.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Hey, we’re getting dangerously close to intellectual overload. I thought you wanted pointers on how to flirt like a pro.”
“That was your idea,” he huffed. “I’m the observer, remember?”
“I remember. But here’s something you might be able to use for your ‘research’ in one reliable acronym…CBS. Confidence, bravery, and sincerity. If you’re confident, brave, and sincere, you can’t go wrong.”
“I could probably go wrong.”
“No way. Confidence gives an impression of self-possession and sometimes makes people think you’re more courageous than you’re feeling at any given moment. And sincerity is the magical ingredient that plenty of folks simply can’t wrap their brains around. If you confidently and bravely walk up to a hot dude and feed them some bullshit line, you’ll come across as a creep or a player. If you mean what you say, you’re golden. Should come naturally to you. You’re not a creep, and you don’t seem like a player.” I narrowed my gaze. “Are you?”
“A player? Me? I know how to play the piano and the recorder. Does that count?”
I chuckled. “In this case, no. If you falter on C, B, or S, you’ll probably still do okay. Two, or worse—all three…you’re toast.”
Cody nodded as he pulled out his cell and typed a few notes. “Got it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Give me one shot before I go.” I motioned for him to start talking.
“A flirting shot. Okay.” He licked his lips nervously, then shook his head. “I can’t. Everything I’m thinking is…rude.”
I barked a quick laugh. “You have my complete and undivided attention. Bring it on.”
“Um…your jeans look tight. I can’t wait for you to stand up so I can see your ass. But I’d love to see your ass out of them too.”