The Engagement Gift An After Dark Standalone Romance - Lauren Blakely Page 0,1
I grinned as I shimmied out of my dress, sighing contentedly. “Those are the best kind, aren’t they?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re the worst. You were almost making me feel sorry for you, asking me to tell you what it was like as if you’d never had one. But you’re just toying with me.”
“I couldn’t resist.” I laughed. “I love how serious you get about finding just the right description. Your brow furrows and everything. It’s adorable.”
“And since you’re having nightly bang fests and getting your own G-spot Os, now I’m going to have to find a way to taunt you with something.”
“Nightly and every morning,” I corrected as I handed her the dress.
“Evil. You’re pure evil.”
I glanced around the store. The shopkeeper was working in the front, helping another patron. “Also, how are you going to taunt me?” I asked, since the cat in me was downright curious.
Kate tapped her chin. “Hmm. Thinking . . . thinking . . . wait! I’ve got it.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Do you realize that the deepest, most powerful G-spot Os come from one thing in particular?”
“And what is this one thing, Great Scientist of Os?”
“Just a little thing you’ve always wanted,” she said airily.
“Tell me!” Now my curiosity was piqued sky-high.
She lifted a brow. Raised her chin. Put on her best I’ve got something you’re going to want tone. “A ménage. You know, the kind with . . .” She let her voice trail off, and I filled in the dots. The kind with two men servicing me at the same time.
A frisson of pleasure rushed down my chest, pulsing between my legs at the mere thought.
The daring, dangerous thought.
I swallowed, almost like I’d been caught doing something naughty. Wanting something I haven’t had. Wanting my deepest, most private fantasy.
“How do you know I want that?” I asked.
She stared sharply at me. “You confessed a few years ago over two truths and a lie that a threesome with two guys was your ultimate fantasy.”
“You remember that?”
She rolled her hazel eyes. “As if I’d forget.”
“That was just a drinking game.”
She arched a brow. “Ah, Lily, my sweet Lily, you only look innocent. You’ve wanted to be the filling in a man sandwich for years.”
A flush crept across my cheeks. A tingle raced down my spine as I imagined my favorite videos, my regular go-tos. Kate wasn’t wrong, but those fantasies, those wild, dirty desires had been tabled. And with good reason—you didn’t just order up a side dish of a second hot guy to go along with the smart, devoted, and sexy-as-sin guy you were marrying in a few months.
“But I’m engaged now,” I said, pointing out the obvious.
Kate folded the dress once more then winked at me. “This dress is on me if Finn doesn’t say yes when you ask him for one.”
I gasped. Literally gasped. Because how the hell could I ask for such a thing? “I’m not asking him for one.”
“What’s the worst he can say? No?”
I pulled on my jeans and grabbed my blouse. “Um, how about ‘the wedding is off?’”
She waved her hand in the air, like a celebutante dismissing a passé pair of yoga pants. “You never know unless you try.”
“But I don’t want to take that chance.”
As I buttoned my blouse, I tried to imagine my fiancé’s response. Sure, Finn and I role-played. True, we were adventuresome, and yes, we engaged in public quickies now and again.
Okay, more than now and again. A lot.
We did not have a boring love life whatsoever.
But one with that particular kind of kink? It was hard to picture because Finn was so completely focused on me. That type of fantasy role-play—a third party—had never entered our nightly repertoire.
Kate drew a deep breath, moved closer, and whispered, “But do you truly think he’d say no?”
“It doesn’t matter because it won’t happen.”
Kate dropped her voice, taunting me. “But you’re thinking about it.”
That was what was so crazy.
I thought about it all afternoon at work.
I imagined it as I wrote an outline for my next story.
I pictured it as I scheduled an interview with a baseball manager who had a fantastic roster of talent.
What would it be like with two men focused on me, and only me? Would it be as wild and wicked as it was in my imagination?
And then as I drove home, I squirmed at every red light.
But the closer I came to my house, the more I had to banish those thoughts.
They were far too