Free The Toy Boy by April Vine Page A

say died on her lips as the velvet curtains hanging from a rail behind the cashier parted. Her overworked heart ground to a dead-halt and manic nerves singed her skin. Her brain spun out of control, drowning her in disbelief. She resisted the urge to rub her eyes in case her vision felt prone to play cheap tricks on her now of all times. But no, he , the totally hot and completely off limits reason she found herself parading in a sex shop in broad daylight, was real, gorgeous, and instantly he recognized her.
    His sexy thick-lashed gaze skimmed over the package dangling in midair from the cashier’s hand en route to the bag and then landed back to her. Scorching hot blood rose into her cheeks. He folded his arms and then rubbed the edge of his jaw with one of his hands as his sensuous lips curved into a killer smile. Sparkling, straight white teeth mocked her. She couldn’t look away, not when his overpowering height demanded she see nothing but him.
    Amusement lined the gray of his irises as he relaxed against a tall cabinet next to him, enjoying her discomfort, and making no secret of it. This couldn’t be happening to her. Embarrassment of the kind she never experienced before dictated her next move. Flee, leaving behind her purchase in the cashier’s hands. Without a backward glance, she scurried out of the shop. She refused to question her juvenile antics as she dove into her car and started the ignition. The only sound louder than her resuscitated heart thudding inside her chest was the wheels of her car screeching in protest as she fled what she now called the crime scene.
    Really? Of all the people in the world she could have met at a sex shop, did it have to be him? The core reason for her cranky mood, which sprouted from a lack of good old-fashioned fucking, revived by the mere sight of him. Eyeballing him from her window as he mowed the lawn was one thing, running into him at a sex shop and being caught red-handed soliciting artificial sexual favors quite another.
    But when she’d woken up that morning from a night of dreaming about him, her wet and unsatisfied pussy dictated all her impulsive actions. She couldn’t bear another night feeling so sexually deprived. She wanted instant gratification, so got into her car, drove into town, and found a sex shop. Now she wished she had practiced a little more patience, bought the darn thing online, and waited however long it was for them to deliver it. Patience though was never the quality she held in high merit. Besides, if she wanted something done, she always did it herself.
    The way things were going her way, her online purchased dildo would probably arrive at her doorstep in a van with a cock painted on the side, sirens wailing, and a police escort, and everyone in the neighborhood would know. She groaned. Dammit, she knew his aunt. And what was he doing in a shop like that anyway?
    She ducked her head as she pulled into her driveway, hoping to never set eyes on either the aunt or the nephew ever again. Thoughts of relocating flitted through her brain. She slipped into her house, locked the door, drew the curtains, and paced the floor as she bit her nails. What a mess. How had everything gone so hopelessly wrong so utterly quickly?
    She still remembered meeting him six years ago when he concluded his greeting by calling her Ms. Daniels and matching it with a cocky smile. She had smiled back at him then, amused by his misguided youth, and the seed of underdeveloped arrogance hovering beneath the surface. Now … now six years later at the age of twenty-four, he came in a different package altogether. One she had no business gawking at as he worked up a hot sweat down his long and lithe back.
    There was nothing amusing about him anymore. He’d grown into his own quickly and solidly. His taunting grin sealed fast into her memory, reducing her to four instead of thirty-four. But oh, did it have to be Declan Meyer, he who she deliberately stripped from her thoughts