“Neither of my parents was originally from New York, so maybe that’s why? Dad’s from Ohio. Mom grew up in California. I talk like them, I guess. Anyway, of course I’ve been to Manhattan—do you think I spent my days hiding under the Brooklyn Bridge like a troll?”
I snicker. “Ever spend any time on the Upper East Side?”
“Sure. I had a friend who lived—” Her eyes widen. “Holy shit. Heyward Plaza. I just put that together.”
The awe on her face makes me grin.
“You own the Heyward Plaza Hotel?” Allie exclaims.
“Me, personally? No. But I suppose I might inherit it one day. My mom’s side of the family, the Heywards, owns real estate all over the globe. Hotels mostly, but we’ve got this cool condominium in Abu Dhabi that’s basically made entirely of glass. It’s—”
“Okay, you need to stop talking now because you’re making me want to punch you. I honestly didn’t realize you were this rich. I’m not sure if it’s a turn-on or a ladyboner-killer.”
“Turn-on,” I say instantly. “Everything about me turns you on, remember?”
She snorts. “Uh-huh. If you say so.”
I flash a cocky grin and start pointing at various parts of my body. “My face? Turn-on. Chest? Turn-on. I’d roll over and show you my ass, but we both know the answer will be ‘turn-on’ so I’ll skip that one. Dick? Turn the fuck on. And then we get to the non-physical awesomeness that is Dean.”
“Speaking in the third person? Not a turn-on.”
I ignore the jab. “I’m adorable, first off. My sense of humor is stellar—obvs.”
“Obvs,” she echoes dryly.
“I’m extraordinarily skilled in the art of conversation.”
She nods. “When it’s about yourself, of course.”
“Of course.” I pretend to think it over some more. “Oh, and I’m a mind reader. No lie. I always know what the other person is thinking.”
“Yeah? What am I thinking right now?” Allie challenges.
“That you want me to shut up and fuck you again.”
She shakes her head in dismay. “Goddamn it. That’s actually what I was thinking.”
I smirk at her and tap my forehead. “Told ya. Mind reader.”
“Congratulations.” She sighs. “How many condoms did you bring?”
“One.”
“Underachiever. Stick your hand in that drawer. Should be a few in there.”
I open the nightstand drawer, which—well, lookee here—contains more than just rubbers. My hand emerges with a seven-inch silicone vibrator in a comical shade of pink.
“Aw, who’s this little fella?” I wave the dildo up and down, and it’s flexible enough that it flops around like a real dick.
Allie snatches it from my hand. “Little? You better take that back or else you’ll give Winston a complex.”
“Winston? Are you kidding me?”
“Oh come on, you’re telling me he doesn’t look like a Winston?”
I study the pink sex toy. For something that’s shaped like a cock, it’s actually ridiculously girly. And Winston is a girly name if I’ve ever heard one. “Huh. I guess he does.”
She nods earnestly. “I have a talent for picking suitable dick names.”
I promptly scowl at her. “Don’t get any ideas about naming mine, you hear me?”
“Why? Are you scared I’ll come up with something better than what you’ve already got?” Her tone is pure sweetness.
“Who says I named my dick?”
Allie slants her head in challenge. “Are you saying you didn’t?”
I shrug in response.
“Ha! I knew it! What’s his name?”
My scowl deepens.
“Come on, tell me,” she begs. “I promise I won’t make fun of you.”
After a five-second internal debate, I capitulate. “It’s Little Dean.”
That makes her howl in laughter. “Oh my God. Of course it is. You are such a dork.”
I pinch her thigh in retaliation, but she only laughs harder, so I shut her up by rolling her over and slamming my mouth down on hers. She immediately parts her lips to grant my tongue access, and soon we’re making out and rubbing up against each other like cats in heat.
I ease my mouth away and rasp, “Feel like tying me up again?”
“Nope. I’ve got something else in mind.”
“Damn, but I was really excited about it.”