Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
“That’s how I like them too,” Lala says, gently bumping Bonnie aside to grab a muffin of her own. Bonnie shoulder checks Lala.
I lift my gaze to the ceiling. Can’t a man eat a muffin in peace?
“Ladies, there is more than enough of me to go around,” I warn them, hoping that if I identify the elephant in the room, it will deflate it. “But I’m not looking for company today.”
Behind me someone snorts. “Since when?”
Lala giggles but Bonnie glares at me. I sneer at her and she hurries with Lala back into the kitchen.
Still laughing, Dex grabs a cup and fills it with coffee. “You eat too many pot brownies last night?”
“Not a single one.”
I cast a quick glance around the still mostly empty dining room. That could change any minute, though. After church, Dex will probably head into Crystal Ball and I won’t be able to get him alone. “Can I ask you something?”
Caught mid-sip, Dex raises his eyebrows at me.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” I warn. “I’d ask Rooster, but I already know the answer and it won’t be helpful.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” Dex answers in a dry tone. “Now I’m dying to know.”
Fuck. Am I really doing this? I roll my eyes and jam my hands into my pockets. I can’t believe I started this conversation. It’s not like Google isn’t free.
Tucking my juice bottle under my arm and holding my muffin, I grab his elbow with my free hand and move us into the far corner of the dining room.
Dex stares at where I’m holding onto him. “Can I at least get a muffin before you inflict whatever insanity’s going on in your head today?”
“Here.” I thrust my remaining half at him.
He stares at it like I tried to force a dead fish down his throat. “Thanks, I’m good.” Irritation’s clear in his voice.
Just ask and get this over with.
“When’s the last time you were with a virgin?” I end up whispering the last word like I’m eleven years old again, waiting for my father to pop out of the shadows and crack his whip across my back.
A line forms between Dex’s eyes, like he’s trying to decide if I’m serious or clowning him. He sucks in a breath like he’s preparing to rattle off a long, scolding speech.
“I’m serious.” Hopefully that helps skip the lecture and get to the advice part.
He blows out a breath and runs his hand over the back of his neck. “What kind of question is that?” His eyes narrow. “What poor, unfortunate virgin are you planning to bed?”
I don’t need him putting two and two together and calculating it’s Margot. I realize she’s not a virgin but she’s definitely inexperienced, so this seemed like the simplest way to phrase it without sharing too many personal details. “No one you know.”
He opens his mouth and I hold up my hand to stop the question I know is about to come out. “Yes, she’s legal and then some. Come on. You’re always preaching all that sex positivity shit. Help your brother out. Have you ever been with a virgin?”
He stares at me for a few more seconds. “Uh, my wife when we were in high school.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “What exactly is your question?”
What the fuck is my question? Or am I looking for Papa Dex to talk some sense into me?
“How’d you make it good for her…and how’d you help her, I don’t know, gain confidence that she was doing things right?”
He tilts his head and shifts his gaze to the window for a second. Not like he’s judging me, more like he’s pondering the question. I knew once Dex got over his initial shock, he’d come through for me.
“Fuck, I don’t know if I thought about it quite that way. We were both virgins, so it was a lot of awkward fumbling around together until things felt good.”
An almost fond smile tilts the corners of his mouth, not the sad frown he usually gets when he mentions his wife—which is almost never.
“But, unless you’ve been lying all those times you’ve bragged about your…conquests,” he rolls his eyes, “you know what you’re doing.”
My lips curve into a cocky smirk. “So I’ve been told. Many, many times. By an infinite variety of—”
“Good Christ.” He cuts me off. “Whoever she is, let the poor girl find someone else.”
I open my mouth to say something snarky but stop. Should I tell Margot to find someone else? Someone she actually has stuff in common with?
No, she’s not looking for a relationship.
And she specifically asked for my help.
“She doesn’t want anyone else,” I say.
He heaves out a heavy, annoyed sigh. “Does she masturbate?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, let her show you what she likes. Or help her figure out what she likes. Every woman’s a little different.” He casts a stink eye toward the kitchen. “Since I assume you’ve only been fucking bunnies for the last decade—”