Page 25 of Desiring an Angel

“Yesss,” she dragged the word out on a groan.

“Me too.”

“No way!”

“Have you read any of Annie Kelly’s books?”

“Sweet Joseph, Mary, and Jesus,” she murmured as though to herself before perking up with, “She’s my new favorite!”

“Mine too,” I agreed. “But back to that statement of yours about there not being any such thing as book boyfriends in real life—I beg to differ. You haven’t met Rhett. He’s the epitome of the most mouthwatering male protagonist in any romance novel ever.”

“Oh god. Is he hot?” she asked, and I laughed for the fiftieth time at least since first texting her.

“He’s beyond gorgeous. He’s six-two, so a couple inches taller than me. Eyes dark as chocolate and just as luscious-looking. I could go on and on.”

“Yes, please.”

I burst into laughter. “How blunt is too blunt?” I echoed her question, loving the flow of our conversation.

“There’s no such thing when it comes to the fact that my imaginary man might really exist,” she declared.

“He has broad shoulders I cling to whenever he’s on top of me—”

“Oh, God,” Skylar whispered.

“—pecs and abs worth exploring, thick thighs… Even his feet are beautiful to me. They’re big, same as his delicious dick.”

“Oh. My. God.” It sounded like Skylar choked.

“Too much?” I asked, my grin attempting to split my face in half.

“No—never,” she breathed. “Tell me more.”

“All the smutty details?” I couldn’t help but tease the obviously love and—I assumed—intimacy-starved woman.

“Yesss,” she hissed/groaned the word again before abruptly cutting off. “That is, I mean, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but no one…well, I’ve never talked like this with anyone about sex before. That’s weird. It is weird, isn’t it?”

Poor, poor girl. Skylar seemed like a coiled ball of excitement and sexual energy just waiting for someone to light her fuse. I imagined she’d be a firecracker between me and Rhett.

“I like that you haven’t, Skylar,” I told her, my voice leveling out and serious even though the thought of getting our hands on her spiked lust through my blood. “Can I ask about your experience?”

“I’m not a virgin, but—well, other than reading Annie’s books, I know nothing about threesomes. I’m a polyvirgin.” She giggled. “Is that even a word?”

“It is now,” I assured her, my smile fixed back in place. What a ray of sunshine she was.

“You were saying?” she prodded.

“Are you chewing your fingernail?” I had to ask what she’d mentioned doing earlier when nervous.

“Damnit.”

I chuckled. “There’s no need to be anxious. I only ever want honesty between us, so feel free to ask questions you want answered.”

“Are you versatile?” she blurted, and I laughed out loud. “Sorry—”

“Don’t be!” I hurried to reply. “I love how uninhibited you are—and yes, we’re vers even though I mostly bottom for Rhett.”

“Because he’s all alpha-growly and it’s what he wants?”

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