Shark Key - 3. Adorable and Slutty

The music was intense. It flooded around me like hot water as I tried to peel a third pair of pantyhose over Getya’s thick thighs. I was already out of breath and sweating.

“Stop acting like it’s so hard! You’re treating me like a rhinoceros!”

She huffed as she shaded her bottom lip. It was a trip watching a man become a woman. That’s why they always do it in private. At some point, there’s a weird moment when their face is half-painted, their hair is netted but wigless and their body has shifted to half man, half beast.

I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll remind you that I didn’t even want to be here.”

“What!?” she yelled as the bass suddenly swelled.

It was rattling the small dressing room like a cage.

“I said I didn’t even want to be here!”

Unfortunately, the music stopped right as I yelled in her ear. She winced and jerked away from me.

“Damn, Aaron, stop yelling! You’re always so dramatic. God forbid I drag you out of the house for one night.”

“Against my will!”

She glared at me. It was the look of an angry bull, waiting to charge and eviscerate anyone in its path. I ignored her and finished painting her pantyhose onto her thighs. I may have been tipsy but I wasn’t stupid. Anymore arguing and I’d end up with a size thirteen pump against my head.

“How are you going to meet anyone if all you do is stay home and watch TV?”

“I meet people,” I mumbled, but it was half-hearted.

Neither one of us were convinced.

She sighed, slipping her wig onto her head and carefully matting down the wig line until it was seamless. The hair was an impossible feat of architecture, towering over her and making her at least two feet taller. One time, for funsies, I tried one of her wigs on and it nearly snapped my neck. Whoever thought drag queens were sissies obviously didn’t know about the duct tape, glue and heavy lifting their body endured every night. Which is why Getya was terrifying and I always avoided crossing her.

Luckily, she ignored the fact that I was arguing and continued her monologue.

“Honestly, you won’t even try a dating app. No personals. You don’t even go to a book club. What about a cooking class? Anything, Aaron. I know you’re lonely and I worry about you.”

She looked at me pointedly in the mirror as she finished contouring her cheeks and temples. She was rarely serious, but when she was, she had the ability to stop time and command silence in the middle of chaos. I blinked and looked away, zipping up the back of her dress.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m fine,” I said, shrugging.

The music stopped and the MC’s loud voice bellowed through the club, whipping the drunken crowd into a frenzy and screaming Getya’s name. Her public was waiting and they were going wild.

“We’ll continue this later. I’m not finished raking you over the coals,” she said.

“I’ll wait with bated breath,” I mumbled.

“You better.”

She kissed me on the cheek, purposely leaving a giant pink imprint on my skin as she stomped out of the dressing room, half clomping elephant, half graceful royalty.

I quickly gathered the stray clothes and drag queen droppings she’d scattered around the room and folded them next to her bag. She wouldn’t need me after the show. I had watched her peel Getya off and pack her away in less than ten minutes, especially if there was food or a hook-up waiting.

The music swelled louder as I stepped out of the room, trying to brace myself as I maneuvered through the crowd and made my way to the bar. A tall man with a gray goatee and inflated pecs was serving drinks with various strengths and he smiled at me. We all jokingly called him Smitty. I wasn’t even sure what his real name was.

A little twunk wearing white trunks and a smile paid him for a cocktail and bumbled away, barely staying upright as he made his way back to the dance floor. I gave Smitty a look and he winked at me.

Drinks with various strengths.

Weak ones for the newcomers, unless they were pretty. Strong ones for anything with toned muscles, smooth skin and a barely legal ID. The older barflies never complained. It usually helped get them laid.

“Well, looks like Cinderella finally made it to the ball,” Smitty said, smirking at me. “Gin and tonic?”

I nodded. He filled a glass half-full of gin and added a spritz of tonic and a lime. I cocked an eyebrow at him and he smiled innocently.

“We all know you’ll have one drink and turn into a pumpkin. Might as well make it a good one,” he said, winking.

I handed him my card but he waved it away.

“On the house. Thanks for keeping Getya outta my hair.”

“Thanks, Smitty,” I mumbled, stuffing a few bills into his tip jar and heading for the dance floor.

Smitty wasn’t wrong; he knew me well. I never stayed long. I’d watch Getya lip-sync a ballad and then pulse her way across the dance floor to a heavy beat. She’d pull some innocent bystander out of the crowd, whoever was the cutest and tipsiest, and convince him to get half naked for tips. It was her usual set.

I took a sip and winced as the gin sizzled against my throat.

“Damn, Smitty,” I mumbled, shaking my head.

It was basically straight gin.

The twunk in white trunks was on the dance floor now, sloshing his drink around as he smiled and swam with the music. He was a cutie, I’d give him that, though not one that really qualified as one of my models. Don’t get me wrong, everyone deserves a portrait; I really believed that. But my models always had some imperfection that made them beautifully unique.

Oliver, for instance, had a tiny gap in one of his eyebrows that he burned off as a child and it never grew back properly. It brought attention to his eyes, almost like an eyebrow ring and gave a hint of trouble to his otherwise cherub-like face.

The twunk on the dance floor was too perfect. Brown hair, perfectly cropped; smooth build, like a high school wrestler and big brown eyes that smiled with abandon. I could read him like a book as he bobbed around, taking in the bar like it was a theme park.

Innocent.

Probably from the university. Probably came down to the islands with friends, who either got too drunk or too occupied to keep an eye on him.

I took another sip and shook my head.

Not your problem, Aaron. Don’t get invested.

I focused on Getya. She was halfway through a dance number, one leg hoisted onto a dance bar as she gyrated her hips. Everyone was waving around bills, screaming wildly as she tossed her hair back and performed a feat of acrobatics, kicking up into a spin and landing in the splits right as the bass dropped.

She really was good, there was no arguing that. I didn’t know any other forty-year-old that could still dance like they were in their twenties. You’d never guess she was a geriatric gay… especially under all that makeup.

I glanced at Twunk again and found him finishing his drink, swaying slightly. He looked around, eyes glazed and unfocused as he looked for a place to set the cup down. At least he was more polite than the other tourists. Most of them just tossed their trash onto the ground like they were at the fairgrounds.

A tall man with salt and pepper hair, broad shoulders and a beer belly walked up behind him, holding out another drink and offering to take his cup. Twunk smiled and eyed the drink in the man’s hand.

It was Dave.

I’d known him almost my whole life, though he was about ten years older. He took over the hardware store after his dad retired, so all the locals knew him. He was friendly and had a big bleeding heart. He fixed Ms. Manning’s roof; he replaced Mr. Heath’s windows. He even rewired the Brown’s entire house when the insurance company threw a fit and they couldn’t afford to update it. All for free. He was a good guy.

I even went to dinner with him once, but it never went anywhere. The issue with Dave was simple: he was a slut with crows feet that could peel the panties off of anyone he smiled at.

And he smiled a lot.

Like now, for instance.

The boy took the drink, a big bar no-no, but whether he knew and was disregarding it or was just young and dumb, I wasn’t sure. I thought everyone knew you never took drinks from strangers. Kid was lucky. Dave may have been a slut, but he did it honestly and wasn’t the type to spike drinks.

That didn’t make him a saint, however. As the boy sipped on the cocktail, Dave was leaning in and whispering, making him laugh. His fingers were lightly brushing the boy’s side as they both started to bob and sway with the music. He apparently didn’t care that the young man was three sheets to the wind, but such is life at the gay bar.

Drunk or not, the boy didn’t seem one bit bothered by Dave’s increasingly exploratory hand. First down to his waist as they shifted back and forth, smiling and laughing. Then a slip down to the boy’s backside. A quick pull away and apology like it was an accident, and a grin from Twunk as he took another long drink and kept dancing.

I couldn’t hear anything, but I could practically write the script.

“Sorry…” Dave would mumble sheepishly.

“No problem,” Twunk would gurgle.

“You from the Uni?”

“Yeah, here with friends. How did you guess?” Twunk would say, his voice like bubbles.

“Just dumb luck. Took a shot in the dark… I think you’ve lost your friends.”

“They’re around here somewhere. Can you help me find them? Maybe we could look inside my underwear…”

I took a sip of my drink as I imagined it. Dave was a shark and that boy was a stuck pig floating at sea. It was a disgusting display of indecency and I had every intention of watching as long as I could.

The music swelled and the boy smiled, dancing again as Dave lifted one of his arms, starting to twirl him around. Except, before Twunk could do a full three-sixty, Dave pulled him in, grinding against his back. Twunk smiled, taking a drink again and watching as Getya gyrated around the floor, gathering her tips.

I wasn’t sure if the boy even realized it or if he didn’t care, but Dave’s hands were now firmly latched onto his hips, fingers digging into the sides of his trunks as they bobbed around. Occasionally, he’d brush up the boy’s abs and then back down, casually lingering over the boy’s bulge as he moved back to his hips. Twunk didn’t seem to mind.

I finished my gin with a drop of tonic and turned back to the bar, sighing.

I changed my mind.

I didn’t need to stick around to know how the Dave and Twunk episode would end. I had never seen Dave fail a mission and he already had his hooks in the boy. It was only a matter of time. The whole thing just made me feel bitter and there’s nothing uglier than a bitter gay. Really, I was only appalled because no one was dancing with me.

I dropped the glass off at the bar and waved at Smitty, who rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Told ya’!” he yelled over the music.

I shrugged. Predictability wasn’t always a negative trait, even though everyone always insisted that it was. Sometimes, it’s perfectly acceptable to have your own pattern that you follow without fail. Some would call that consistency.

The only problem with patterns is that life doesn’t always oblige. Sometimes it rips those patterns right out from under your feet and leaves you standing on your head.

Just as I turned to leave, I found myself standing face to face with the dad from the store. Only this time, he didn’t have a group of small boys on his heels. Thank goodness. That would be awkward in a bar.

“Oh,” he said.

“Oh,” I said.

We sat there staring at each other in stunned silence for what seemed like far longer than socially acceptable. I finally cleared my throat.

“Small world!” I yelled.

God, I hated having to talk over club music. He nodded, still looking at me like I was a common criminal or something.

“Sorry about earlier!”

“What!?” he asked, as the music got louder.

“I said sorry about earlier!” I bellowed.

“Oh! For what!?” he asked.

He obviously knew for what but was just being nice. Which was… polite… of him. And I really liked polite; I found it sexy.

“I was a little tipsy and shopping for dinner. You caught me in one of my rants!”

He chuckled finally, shoulders relaxing as he nodded.

“All good! You have boys as well!?”

I shook my head, confused why he would ask me that and he suddenly seemed weird again. It took a minute before I finally realized why. He’d caught me in the boy’s underwear section and what the hell else would I have been doing there?

I laughed, trying to brush it off.

“Oh! I was just shopping for my friend. He’s never tried briefs, so…”

I shrugged, still feeling seedy. He didn’t need to know he was a nude model that I barely knew.

Ease him in. Hook him on the line before he finds out you’re crazy.

“Oh!” the dad laughed and nodded. “Well, glad you’re fighting the good fight! They are the superior underwear!”

My heart skipped.

I loved him.

We would get married and have a honeymoon in Hawaii where I would sip on little drinks with umbrellas and try over and over again to get pregnant. Somehow, I’d manage and I’d give birth to two more children, who would all look just as handsome as him. We’d live out our years together and retire… maybe to a nice, quiet mini-farm with a goat and three chickens. That was as much livestock as I could handle, even in my daydreams.

It made no difference that he was probably straight. At least… I thought he was. How else do you have kids? And I knew he didn’t adopt because they all looked too much like him. Tiny little mini… Dads… God, I needed to learn his name.

“Rocking my dad panties as we speak!” he added, grinning at me.

He pulled his shirt up, revealing a soft hairy torso and then tugged at the waistband of his underwear, revealing them over the top of his jeans. White with blue print scrolled across the elastic. They were cheap. They were my favorite.

I would have ripped my clothes off for him right then and there if he asked. Why were the tighty-whitey knights always straight?

“My favorite!” I said, smiling.

He blushed and nodded, taking another sip of his drink.

“Sorry, a little tipsy myself!” he yelled.

“That’s okay, now we can understand each other!”

He smiled wide and laughed. My cheeks blushed furiously.

“Exactly! We can drunk-speak now!”

I laughed and nodded. I casually glanced at his left hand. No ring…

“So, you’re not married?”

“What!?”

“You’re not married!?”

How was the music getting louder?? The Gay Gods hated me, obviously.

He shook his head, somberly.

“Divorced.”

“You got the kids?”

“What!?”

I glared at the DJ, convinced he was doing it on purpose, dropping the bass at just the right time to ruin my poor attempt at flirting. He wasn’t even looking at me. His eyes were on the little twunk as Dave snacked on his ear.

“You got the kids!?” I finally repeated.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned, finding Smitty smiling at me and holding out another drink. He eyed the beautiful man in front of me and then winked. I took the drink and rolled my eyes. He was ridiculous.

“You wanna go to the patio!?” Dad yelled.

I nodded. Yes please, get me the hell outta here. I followed him across the dance floor to the other side of the bar, noting that now only one of Dave’s hands was visible. The other was hiding somewhere in the depths of Twunk. Good ol’ Dave. It seemed the shark already had his teeth in the pig.

We stepped outside into the balmy air. It was still noisy and all the tables were taken, but we could at least hear each other.

“So you got the kids?” I asked again.

He nodded.

“She didn’t want them. Hit forty and decided she was twenty again. Met some guy and just left me a note.”

I grimaced.

“Damn, I’m sorry. That’s rough.”

“Not really,” he said, shaking his head. “We barely got along, so really, she did me a favor and I always wanted to be a dad. Just a little hard with three boys and one parent.”

“Hard to get out and play, I bet.”

He nodded.

“They’re with grandma tonight. We’re moving down here and she came along to help while I scout for a house.”

“Nice! Well, welcome to the Keys.”

So…

Handsome? Check. Single? Check, check. And local? Check, check, check. I still wasn’t drunk enough to overlook the final problem, however: most gay men aren’t divorced with three kids. This was also one of the few bars open late on a weeknight. Maybe he just needed to let his hair down.

“Thanks,” he said, nodding as he took another drink. “So you live here?”

“Yep. All my life,” I said, sounding prouder than I meant to.

It was a good community, though. Good people and you couldn’t beat the beaches. But I needed to get the conversation back to a place that would be helpful… and in my drunken state I thought I could handle that with masterful subtlety.

Think again, Aaron.

“I like your underwear!” I blurted. He chuckled and blushed again. So did I. That was way too blunt, but too late to take it back now. I had to commit. “Good choice,” I added.

“Sorry, don’t usually flash those around. Drank a little more than I thought,” he said, laughing.

I grinned and nodded.

“I’m not complaining,” I said. “They look good on you!”

Reel it in, Aaron. He’s gonna think you’re a stalker.

“Thanks!” Dad was blushing harder now, nervously sipping on his drink and not making eye contact.

I cleared my throat, desperate to keep the conversation going.

“And I still say the original logo was a cornucopia.”

“I’m sorry?” he asked, eyes going wide.

“The logo. They say it’s always just been fruit… but it’s a conspiracy. Totally had a cornucopia when I was younger.”

He laughed then. A full-bellied laugh that made his chest shake and his eyes shine. I felt so proud.

“Well, Toby would love you.”

“Toby?”

“My youngest. He’s a tiny evil genius.” He took another sip of his drink and shrugged. “He’s convinced the New World Order is strategically altering time lines and toying with our memory. Or something like that.”

I laughed and nodded.

“I’m pretty sure he already thinks I’m in the Illuminati.”

“Maybe you are,” he whispered, cocking an eyebrow.

“Maybe I am.” I agreed. “I am mysterious.”

“I like a little mystery,” he said, winking at me.

My cheeks burned as I realized he was flirting with me. Actually flirting with me. Forty-year-old washed-up eccentric artist and he was what?… Interested? Oh dear Gay Gods, please forgive me for doubting your power and direction in my life.

“I’m Peter Williams, by the way,” he said, holding his hand out.

“Aaron Tillman.”

It was a firm shake with a warm grip, and it lingered longer than necessary. I’m not sure how he did it, but my underwear suddenly felt three sizes too small. I was pretty sure I was going to jack off to that handshake for the rest of my life.

“Well, Aaron, it was nice to meet you,” he said, finally checking his phone and grimacing. “But Dad Duty calls, unfortunately. You come out here often?”

I nodded. It was a complete lie, of course. Lately, I hadn’t been going out anywhere, but if Daddy Peter was going to be out here, then I’d make the sacrifice. Maybe I’d get another handshake.

“Great. Then I’ll be seeing you around,” he said, winking again.

He was really good at that. It was just a natural movement, practiced and perfect yet never looking like a seedy perv. I watched him walk away and tried to decide what song would play as I walked down the aisle. Maybe Fleetwood Mac’s Say You Love Me?

No. Getya would say that’s too corny. Over the top, she’d say, all while wearing twelve inch pumps with three wigs glued together.

Maybe You Make Loving Fun…

I tried to snap out of it and dropped off my glass with Smitty. He smiled wide and waggled his eyebrows, silently asking the most important question of the evening. It had a disappointing answer, so I rolled my eyes and waved goodbye without giving him a response.

I glanced around the dance floor as I left, but Dave and Twunk were nowhere to be found. Either Dave had conquered him or the boy had ended up head first in the toilet. Now I’d never know and that was surprisingly disappointing.

I walked down the gravel drive to the parking lot, a term I use loosely. It was a small barren lot wedged between two buildings that everyone used for parking. It wasn’t pathed, however, and it was hell to navigate in the rain. Luckily, everything was dry as a bone.

The night was clear. It was one of those balmy spring nights on the island, with just enough breeze from the sea to keep everything cool. The beach was barely a block away and I could hear the waves breaking as the palms rattled in the breeze.

I stumbled slightly in the grass as I made my way to the car and paused, checking my phone. Stumbling didn’t seem like a good sign. The Shark Key neighborhood was only a few blocks away, but if I got killed in a car accident while drunk, Getya would resurrect me just to murder me all over again.

“Uber it is,” I mumbled.

Just as I was about to open the app, however, something cut through the quiet. Someone moaned from somewhere in the parking lot and I glanced around. I sighed as my eyes zeroed in on the culprit. Dave’s truck was parked in the far corner, a vintage something or other– Maybe a Bronco? I didn’t know, I didn’t really do cars–and it was swaying.

It was rocking back and forth, the shocks squeaking quietly as someone moaned again. It was a deep, crackly baritone and it didn’t sound like Dave at all. I knew that firsthand. I’d heard Dave moan right in my ear and it was a sound that stuck with me. Mostly because I was moaning too.

I swallowed and looked around. The lot was dark and empty. No one would know if I peeked…

I carefully walked closer, trying my best not to stumble, and summoning whatever graceful coordination I had left. The moans got louder and I held my breath as I realized the window was cracked.

Gay Gods win again.

I carefully peeked inside. Dave had his jeans shoved around his knees. He was leaning forward, with Twunk underneath him. Twunk was whimpering and moaning, his legs spread wide and bouncing around like limp noodles. His trunks were dangling around one ankle like a white flag; like he was under siege and surrendering.

Dave had done it. He’d officially dropped the boy’s panties.

“Oh fuck,” twunk moaned, his voice cracking.

Dave started thrusting harder, clapping against the boy’s cheeks, wet and sloppy.

“Fuck your tight,” he whispered.

The boy whimpered again as Dave rolled his hips. I couldn’t help but smirk. Dave was good. He was a slut, and the furthest thing from boyfriend material, but I had to give props where props were due. Of course, you don’t get that good in bed without lots of practice and he had plenty of it. He went through all the boys on the island like we were used tissue paper, and now had to wait for tourists just to have a chance at fresh meat.

“Don’t normally bottom,” the boy murmured.

Dave slowed his rhythm, his hips gently rocking back and forth.

“You’re a top?”

“Mhmm…” the boy moaned, nodding.

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

Dave picked up his rhythm again as Twunk started to squeak like a puppy.

He sat up, throwing the boy’s legs over his shoulders and holding onto his waist as he started to drive into him. The boy cooed like a baby as I backed away slightly, trying to stay out of view but still not wanting to miss the show. My heart was racing and my pants were bulging.

I was too drunk to even consider how inappropriate it was to watch without being invited. Not that I wouldn’t have been tempted even if I was sober. But I was a visual artist, dammit; I had an excuse.

The boy’s toes curled suddenly and his fingers dug into the seat.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna… you’re gonna make me…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, nodding quickly.

“Cum for me, baby,” Dave mumbled breathlessly.

He started slamming into him like a jack hammer through wet concrete. The boy’s gurgles were punched out of him with each smack against his perky backside. His legs tensed up and his moans raised in pitch.

“I’m gonna…”

“Do it…”

“Don’t stop… don’t stop…”

The boy just kept repeating it, a little prayer getting higher and louder until finally his voice cracked. He let out a wailing moan, nearly a cry for mercy as his body lurched and Dave thrusted deep. He was growling and grunting as well, his ass vibrating and jerking as their bodies writhed together.

“Fuck…” Dave moaned.

The boy gasped, his hips moving with a mind of their own as he purred and cooed. Dave’s body shook and twitched as the boy continued to writhe like a cat in heat. His hands were clenched, his knuckles white and his moans had disappeared, replaced by whines and whimpers.

Dave collapsed forward, lying over the boy.

Twunk’s toes continued to twitch and curl. Dave’s hand was running up and down the boy’s thighs, cupping his smooth ass and massaging his cheeks as his own body twitched and jerked, the final waves of pleasure finally breaking through them.

And then they sat there frozen, panting and breathless. Dave finally leaned forward, kissing the boy on the neck as sweat dripped down his back.

“God that was hot,” Dave murmured. “Did I just pop your cherry?”

The boy shrugged.

“Maybe,” he mumbled, trying not to make eye contact.

“Can’t believe I just nailed a top,” Dave said. “You’re ass just sucked the load right outta me.”

Twunk chuckled quietly. It was a nervous sound and I knew it all too well. It was the same laugh I made when I questioned what the fuck I had just done. Actually, I think I laughed exactly like that when Dave ‘nailed’ me.

“Aaron?”

My eyes went wide. I had been so busy focusing on the boy’s beautiful body and lost in my thoughts that I had completely missed Dave getting up and turning around. I was caught.

I blushed and waved awkwardly.

“Hi, Dave… Nice to see you?”

Dave grinned, completely unashamed.

“You too.” He glanced down at the boy who had now realized they were caught and was trying to hide his face with his underwear. Dave patted him on the butt. “He had a friend hovering like a fruit fly… had to take a walk.”

“Straight to your truck, I see.”

I crossed my arms and tried to act morally superior. It was my only defense for getting caught flagrantly spying on them.

He shrugged and grinned.

“I notice you didn’t mind watching,” he said, winking at me. “Besides, I’ll take care of him.”

“You better,” I said, casually walking away like nothing strange had just happened at all.

“Well, maybe next time I can take you for a walk, Aaron… it’s been a while!” he called after me.

“Never again, Dave! Never again!”

I meant that, even though I couldn’t stop the grin on my face.

“We’ll see about that! I’ll come to the studio and you can paint me like one your French boys…”

“Not happening, Dave!”

“If I remember correctly, you like it when I stick my tongue…”

“Dave!”

He laughed wildly and I rolled my eyes, nearly stumbling.

He was an insufferable flirt and I’d be damned if he didn’t have a way of tempting me. But I meant it. One ride on the Dave-Machine was enough, thank you. It was hot, but not my cup of tea.

Though, truth be told, the kid was lucky. Nightlife in the Keys could be fun, but also a bit shady. He could have ended up with someone a lot worse between his legs. Dave would at least nurse his hangover, buy him breakfast and probably even give him gas money to help him and his friends get back home. Knowing Dave, the boy would probably be knocking on his door again whenever they came back down.

Questionable moral fiber for fucking the daylights out of an obviously inebriated self-proclaimed top? Of course. But he was so damn sweet the rest of the time you could almost nominate him for sainthood. There’s always that tricky gray area.

I pulled my phone out to grab an Uber and glanced back. Dave was already out of the truck, pulling his pants up and helping the boy get his underwear back on. He caught me looking again and smiled.

“Need a ride home? We’ll be driving right by there.”

“I’m good,” I said, swaying as I opened the app.

“You sure? Faster than an Uber. I’ll have you home in less than five.” He had already helped the boy into the passenger seat and was now standing with the door open looking like a chauffeur. “Your carriage awaits, m’lady.”

I sighed and stuffed my phone back in my pocket as I walked back to the truck.

“I’m not gonna sit in anything, am I?”

I grimaced at the back seat. Dave laughed and shook his head.

“Clean as a whistle.”

I glanced at the boy in the passenger seat. He grinned at me and waved, which seemed like a good sign. He obviously wasn’t freaking out, even though his undies were soaked through from all the mess. Well, his mess, anyway. Dave’s mess was hiding somewhere else entirely.

I sighed and climbed inside.

“Fine, but no funny business. Hands stay where I can see them.”

Dave laughed and patted me on the ass before I could sit down. I glared at him.

“You’re in luck,” he said. “I’m already spent.”

He cocked his head toward Twunk, who giggled and looked away. I rolled my eyes.

“Just get me home, Jeeves.”

“Yes, m’lady,” he said, giving a little bow before climbing in and shutting the door.

I hated how damn cute he was. Adorable and slutty.

There’s never been a more dangerous combination.

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