Page 38 of Stolen Kisses
“Oh, um…” She scanned the selection. “I guess the handcuffs look nice?” It was more of a question than a response.
Noah nodded and reached for a pair. “What else?”
Krista shook her head, pulling her lower lip into her mouth.
“May I suggest one of these?” The woman pulled down a large pink feather. “The sensation is amazing,” she told Krista. “You wouldn’t believe how arousing this can be in your lover’s hands.”
Krista took the feather and ran her finger over the side of the feather. “Yeah, it is pretty soft.”
“It’s not for rubbing against your fingers, sweetheart,” Noah said, winking at her.
Krista felt her face grow hot. “I know that,” she snapped, although now she was blocking visuals of a lover—Noah—tracing this feather in places it had no business tracing.
“What else do you have?” Noah asked the woman.
Thirty minutes later, they left Sugar and Spicy with handcuffs, a blindfold, a large feather (not for rubbing against fingers), massage oils, and a box of ribbed, glow in the dark condoms “for her pleasure.”
Krista was relieved to get back in the passenger seat of Noah’s Jeep and head to the mountains.
“Do you think you got what Grace had in mind?”
“I’m not sure what Grace had in mind, but if this isn’t right, I’ll give her the address to come here with Jack.”
“The clerk there is more than happy to help clueless couples.”
Krista giggled. “I can’t believe she thought we were a couple.”
“Well, why not? We’d make a nice couple, don’t you think?” He glanced over. “If you weren’t my best friend.”
“And if you were the couple sort.”
“There’s that.” Noah reached for the radio dial and turned on some soft rock from the eighties.
“You’re not going to make me listen to that for the rest of the drive up,” Krista complained.
“I’m driving and I just took you to a sex toy shop. I think I’m owed some Chicago. Or we could do Sting. Were you hoping for Taylor Swift?” He glanced over as Krista rolled her eyes, but she was still giggling.
“Fine. But on the way home, I’m picking the music.”
—
A little while later, Noah pulled into the driveway of the Sawyer cabin and blew out a breath. He’d loved coming here as a kid. The cabin was like one big tree house to him and his brothers. All of the walls were wood paneled. The floors were wood. In place of a ceiling were wood rafters. The brothers’ room was equipped with bunk beds. It was a kid’s dream.
Noah glanced over at Krista who stared at the cabin for the first time. “I’ve heard you guys talk about this place, but your description never did it justice. This place is a tiny mansion.”
“With a mountain backdrop.”
“And you’re on a lake.” Krista pushed her Jeep door open and stepped out, stretching her arms overhead.
Noah looked at the ground to keep from noticing her curves, which were all too noticeable in the fitted jeans and T-shirt she had on. “It’s great for fishing.”
Krista frowned and placed her hands on her hips. “Fishing? Is that all you Sawyer boys ever think about?”
“Pretty much,” he said. Until recently. Now, all he seemed to think about was her and that kiss they’d shared. “Let’s go inside. I can’t wait to show you the place.” He hoisted her bag off her shoulder and onto his, then led the way up the stone walkway to the hardwood front door.
Krista looked to her right and gave a little squeal. “There’s a porch swing, too! I love this place already!”
Noah pushed the front door open and gestured her inside.
