Page 19 of The List
She turns back to me, and I pick up the rubber scraper and the spatula and pantomime a two-handed spanking using both tools in rapid succession. It looked a lot cooler in my mind, but in reality, I probably look like a dork playing air drums. Cassie giggles.
“I just need to know which tool is the right one,” she says. “The brownie batter keeps getting stuck to the side of the bowl. What should I use to get it off?”
Her sister prattles on for a helluva lot longer than it should take to answer that question. I catch snippets of the lecture, words like “silicone head” and “spreader,” which sound a whole lot dirtier than Missy probably means them to.
“Oh,” Cassie says. “So, that’s not a flipper or a turner or whatever?”
More words from Missy. Cassie seems like she’s only half listening now. Her gaze has dropped to the tool gripped in my right hand, and I can tell she’s imagining what it might feel like smacking hard against her soft flesh. I set down the flipper and draw back the rubber scraper. That seems to be the gadget that piques her interest the most. The one she mentioned first. Regardless of what it’s called, I suspect it’s what I’ll use to fulfill her fantasy.
I hold my left hand out flat and open my fingers. Cassie watches, mesmerized, while her sister drones on. I draw back the rubber scraper in my right hand, winding up like a batter. She licks her lips, gaze fixed on my open palm. I bring the scraper down hard, whacking the rubber head against the center of my palm.
Smack!
“Oh!” Cassie gasps. Her cheeks flush pink, and I hear her sister asking what just happened. “Nothing,” Cassie says. “I—uh—I’ve gotta go. Uh-huh. Love you, too.” She hangs up the phone before her sister can ask more questions.
Her eyes are still fixed on the tool in my hand, and I watch as she licks her lips again. “We can call it a spatula. Um, I could tell you all the etymology Missy just explained, and how?—”
“That won’t be necessary.”
She nods once. “Good.”
“This is the tool you wanted?” I ask. “What you imagined when you told them the story?”
She nods and watches me set it down on the counter. I swear she looks disappointed, but there’s something I need to get out of the way before I lay a hand on her. “Do you want to have a safe word?”
“A safe word?”
“Yeah. It’s a word we agree on beforehand that?—”
“I know what a safe word is. I’ve read Fifty Shades, remember?”
I don’t know why I’m happy to hear she’s not working from personal experience, but I am. “I think it would be a smart idea to have one. For both of us.”
“Okay.” She frowns. “How about Jory?”
“Jury? As in trial by?”
“No, Jory. As in Oregon’s state soil.”
“Oregon has a state soil?”
She sighs and picks up her wineglass, then takes a small sip before she sets it back down on the counter. “Fine. You come up with something.”
“Okay.” I think about it for a few beats. “How about a computer term? Something like gigabyte?”
“Gigabyte?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to remember to yell gigabyte if you smack my ass too hard.”
“All right.” I step a little closer, brushing against her on purpose as I grab a second spatula from the container. This one is bright orange with a bigger head than the first one she’d grabbed. She watches me turn it over in my hand, and I tap it softly against my palm. “Maybe we should choose a sexy safe word,” I suggest.
“Sexy. Yes, that’s good.”
“Lube?”
She shakes her head. “What if I’m actually asking for it?”
“You are kinda asking for it.” I grin, and Cassie rolls her eyes again. I love that she can be simultaneously turned on and playful. I set the spatula down and reach for her. I take my time sliding a hand down her side, memorizing the curve of her hip. She shivers under my palm, then shifts her weight to lean into my touch.
“How about salacious?” I suggest. “Arouse? Stimulate?”
