Free Dirty Distractions by Cari Quinn Page A

in!”
    The giggle spilled out of her as she leaned her face against the bars. He shuffled closer and pecked her forehead, his version of a birdy kiss.
    “Nope, no more coming of any kind today.” She’d sort of made a resolution in the wee hours of the night. It involved taking a couple days to reevaluate the abrupt change in her relationship with Brad over the past week—
    “Hey, gorgeous.”
    His voice dripped over her spine like melted caramel, hot and sweet. Her pussy actually tingled as if it missed him. No doubt there. Of course it missed him. When needy body parts made good friends with others that fit into them so enthusiastically, why wouldn’t they swell up and get all wet in anticipation of their next meeting?
    She swallowed and shut her eyes to give herself an extra moment to prepare. Maybe he’d look really bad this morning. Exhausted and bloodshot-eyed and rumpled. Not sexy at all. She’d view him in the unforgiving light of the day and tell him in her best professional voice that they should assess where they were now that they’d become intimate.
    “Come in, come in, ooh, uhh!”
    Brad’s laughter made her grin in spite of herself. “Sounds like the bird’s frisky.”
    “He’s a terrible mimic.”
    “I don’t know. Sounds pretty good to me.” Brad’s voice lowered. “Somebody gets noisy when they’re knocking on heaven’s door.”
    God help her, but she giggled again. Like a teenager. Or a woman in lo—lust. Strong, deep lust.
    Bracing herself, she glanced at the doorway. He leaned against the jamb, wearing pajama bottoms and a smile. His blond hair tousled instead of rumpled, his eyes bright and alert rather than bloodshot. He held a cup of coffee she assumed was his until he extended it to her, murmuring, “Here, kitty, kitty. Got something for you.”
    She arched a brow and ignored the fragrant steam rising from the mug. He could not lure her that easily. “Why don’t you come here?”
    Wrong word.
    “Come in, come in, hard!”
    “Jesus, Telly,” she muttered, covering her face with her hand.
    Brad laughed and crossed the room to her, pushing the cup into her hand. He brushed a kiss over the top of her head. “He’s not the only one feeling frisky this morning,” he said, his breath stirring both her bangs and her so-not-languishing sex drive.
    Before he could direct those damnably distracting lips at hers, she took a long sip of coffee that seared the roof of her mouth. Ouch. She choked and rubbed her eyes, praying she didn’t look as wretched as she felt. Or maybe that was a good thing. If she did her best impression of a weepy-eyed grouch, perhaps he’d give her some time to think. To make sense of all this insanity.
    “How’s Kim?” she gasped between coughing fits.
    “Bitching and eating corn flakes. She’s already complaining she won’t be able to wear her crazy heels with her dress at the benefit.”
    “Is she hurting a lot?”
    “Hard to tell. She’s grumbling too much to mention it.” Brad tipped up her chin and caressed her puffy lower lip. Yep, she’d burned that too. One stroke of his thumb and her clit pounded to get his attention. Damn her suddenly sociable body. “You gonna be weird now? Thought we’d moved past all that when you begged me to fuck you.”
    Indignation rose and smothered embarrassment. In the range of inappropriate emotions, indignation was always preferable. “I didn’t beg. Exactly. I strongly suggested it early this morning.” When she’d awakened to find his fingers in her pussy and his warm tongue on her breast.
    “Guess I’ll always have to gag you when we have company in the house.” She stiffened when he leaned closer and nudged her belly with his rigid cock. “Lucky for me I can think of things to put in your mouth.”
    She stepped back and swallowed more coffee. It didn’t do much to clear the desire haze now wrapping her brain in layers of Brad-scented cotton. “Thank you for the coffee. I’m