Page 50 of The Boyfriend Effect (Frisky Business 1)
I move the toy to her clit with one hand and grasp her hip with the other. She’s so wet, so ready, so deliciously turned on, and I can’t wait any longer. I hold the toy against her as I move so I’m spooning her from behind. She’s so wet now that I easily work my swollen cock into her heat. Maren gasps at the invasion and clutches my ass.
We rock into a rhythm until she’s wild and sweating, her body squirming under my touch. Her body clenches around me, and she pulls the toy from my hand and takes control of her own pleasure, riding me and the toy in equal measure. She’s so sexy like this, all confidence and taking charge, and I can feel my balls tightening.
“Dove, I’m close.”
She grinds harder into me, and another wave crashes through her. Pleasure rips a cry from her throat, and I feel her contract around me. Fuck, that feels good. She tosses the toy onto the bed next to her as I finish, gripping her hips tightly as I come.
We collapse onto the bed, beads of sweat lining my forehead and chest. Maren slips my shirt around her shoulders and goes to the bathroom to clean up, and when she returns, she cuddles warmly into my side.
“That was incredible,” she whispers. “Thank you. For everything.”
“No, thank you, dove. Thank you.”“No, really, Hayes, how’d you fucking do it?” Connor squints at me with disbelief.
It’s the next day, and instead of spending it in bed with Maren, I’m at work, surrounded by a bunch of assholes with the maturity of twelve-year-olds. But what did I expect? We started a sex-toy company together. Talking about our sex lives is literally part of each other’s business.
Except when you’re fucking your business partner’s little sister, that is.
“Don’t worry about it, all right? I got it done. That’s all you need to know.” I hardly look up from my laptop while I reply, but Connor and Caleb aren’t buying it. They scoff and look at each other in disbelief, just in time for Wolfie to join us in the back office.
Great. Just what I fucking needed.
“What are you two idiots giggling about?” Wolfie asks, his voice slightly less gruff than usual.
“Hayes did some product testing over the weekend,” Connor says.
“So?”
“So,” Caleb says, “he’s sworn off women. So, how is he testing the product?”
Wolfie drops the box he’s been carrying onto a shelf with a loud thud. “Well, some of our toys are optimized for solo use.”
“Unless Hayes is suddenly very into anal,” Connor says, his eyebrows shifting, and I cut him off.
“Fuck you, man.”
Wolfie chuckles. “Whatever floats his boat.”
I heave out a sigh. “The product is solid. Since when do we grill each other for details?”
Caleb raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms. “Dude, the only woman in your life is your grandmother, so unless you want me to puke up my protein shake, please explain yourself.”
Connor and Wolfie laugh, but I just shake my head and keep crunching numbers.
“Fuck all you guys,” I mumble. But at this point, between that option and the truth, I’m honestly not sure which one is worse.18* * *MARENIn preparation for our evening out on the town, Rosie and I spend the afternoon shopping at my favorite consignment store. Summer in Chicago is unforgiving, so the dress we select for her is a lightweight navy-blue number with a collared neckline, short sleeves, and a bold pattern of yellow flowers.
Meanwhile, I’m on the hunt for a little special something. When I see it, I know without a doubt that it’s exactly what I need to keep Hayes nice and occupied. Summery and fun, the ruby-red romper showcases my long legs in a way that’ll definitely have him reeling. Add a pair of strappy black sandals and a flirty ponytail . . . and he’ll be a goner. I can hardly wait.
“You’re gonna give my poor grandson a heart condition.” Rosie chuckles to herself as we check out.
The smile on my lips refuses to fade as we finish up at the store.
Back at the apartment, Rosie bashfully asks if I’ll help her get ready. The invitation warms my heart, so I dutifully follow her down the hall to her bedroom.
The zipper slides easily up the middle of her slightly hunched back, a clasp securing it at the base of her neck. The ankle-length pleated skirt brushes against the pantyhose she insists on wearing, the entire ensemble pulled together by a pair of matte-blue Mary Janes from her closet.
I peek over her shoulder, looking in the full-length mirror to confirm what I already know. She looks lovely.
“My goodness.” Rosie giggles, pulling at the fabric restlessly. “You sure this isn’t too modern for an old fuddy-duddy like me?”
I grin at her use of the term fuddy-duddy. Can’t say I’ve heard that one in a long while.
