Home > Man Card (Man Hands #2)(8)

Man Card (Man Hands #2)(8)
Author: Sarina Bowen

She snorts. “Of course they did. Because they weren’t expecting any dudes to show up.”

“I have a regular Tuesday appointment,” I whisper in her ear. I let my lips graze the delicate edge, and she goes absolutely still in my arms. “Can’t have rough hands.” I pause so I can drop an open-mouthed kiss onto the satiny skin of her neck. “Have to be smooth…” My lips walk a path down her throat, and she shudders. “Smooth hands will feel better on your pretty little clit while I’m making you come.”

She whimpers, and I take advantage of it. I turn her perfect chin and lock our gazes. That’s when Ash notices how near we are to each other—and how easy it would be for her to lean in and fit our mouths together.

With a soft moan, she does just that. Sweet lips touch mine. Tentatively at first. But the kiss is just as good as it was that time in the pantry, so it’s mere seconds later that she tightens her grip on my body. I part her lips with my tongue and wait for her moan.


There it is. Ash and I are a much better team than she would care to admit. I stroke her tongue and she shivers, turning in my arms, tossing a knee across my lap to straddle me.

And it’s on.

Not thirty seconds later we’re grinding and groaning. She’s riding my lap in imitation of, well, riding my lap. Ash is losing her mind a little. She loves to be on top, because she thinks that’s where she belongs. I’d love to press her up against the nearest hard surface and show her how good it could really be, but I can’t. She probably has a bump on the back of her head that’s my fault.

So I’ll have to be content with her bouncing on my dick here in this chair.

I’ve got my hands running up her legs, pushing up that skirt and she does this little thrust that makes me gasp. In the pantry, we had mouths and tongues on each other, but I wasn’t inside her, and all that separates us is a few thin layers of clothing. I groan a little. Can’t be helped because Ash….Ash is a fucking goddess.

“I want…” Ash breathes and I am hanging on her next word. Please say she wants me. Please please please.

But the universe thwarts me when instead of hearing “I want you inside me, Braht, you huge man,” I hear instead...

“Yooooooooo hoo! Is anyone home?”

Ash gasps and practically leaps off of me. She straightens her clothing, pulling down that god-awful yet infinitely fuckable plaid skirt. Even worse, she won’t meet my eyes. “Who’s there?” she says, a little hitch in her voice that I am very proud of.

The sound of footsteps spurs me to action, by which I mean I adjust my spur and let my polo shirt fall over the tent I’m pitching in my trousers.

A little old woman appears in the doorway of Tom’s dining room. “Niiiiice!” she says, then cackles. It’s not a creepy cackle. It’s more like the cackle old grandmas make at a holiday arts and crafts fair when they’ve just found the perfect tea cozy. She fingers the collar of her flowered sweatshirt as she admires Bramly’s work.

There’s something I’d like to finger right now and it’s not a sweatshirt.

“Great aesthetic,” the woman says. “Love the art! That’s a man who has the whole package.” She giggles again, delighted. “Can I see the rest of the house? I saw the For Sale sign in the yard, and the front door was open…”

“Of course!” Ash says with too much cheer, although this woman is obviously just a nosy neighbor, not a potential buyer. She’s wearing her freaking slippers.

But my Ash snaps right into realtor mode. “I’m Ash Power. It’s so nice to meet you. Here is my card. You’ll notice that I’m a waterfront home specialist.” Her spine straightens as she taps the card and hands it over. She smiles widely, the way an electric eel might smile before snatching down its prey.

I wish I were the prey.

Not a glance for me, though. This interruption is working just fine for her.

Ah, well. We’ll connect eventually. You can’t hold back what’s meant to be. I totally believe that. All the self-help audiobooks I’ve been listening to confirm it.

The old lady is in the kitchen already, exclaiming over the top-notch appliances. I hear Ash say, “Thirty thousand BTUs!” My honey is selling the heck out of the Wolf range, possibly in order to make her escape from me.

I can’t resist. I must enter the fray.

My erection enters it first, preceeding me into the kitchen. “Have you seen the butler’s pantry?” I crow. “Ash and I have a thing for pantries. It’s right over here.”

“Oooh!” the old lady says, following me like a happy puppy. Does she give my tent an appreciative glance? Does she? I’d like to think so.

“And then we’ll see the boathouse,” I offer. “You don’t want to miss the boathouse. A rather famous sex tape was shot there. Right this way.”

Ash gives me a growl, just as I knew she would.

I’ll be thinking about that growl later tonight when I...um...take matters into my own hands. Literally.

Then I’ll watch the next episode of Outlander. I’ve got to learn to channel me some Jamie Fraser.



5 Fall Festival Fiasco




“How do you like my balls?” Brynn asks me.

She’s referring to a new recipe for deep-fried blue cheese nuggets. I swear they cause spontaneous orgasms whenever I pop one into my mouth. Then again, that’s pretty much what happens whenever I pop any kind of ball in my mouth.

It’s, uhm, been a while.

“They’re scrumptious,” I say, referring to the balls. The cheese fritters. Sigh. My mind is elsewhere, and it’s completely the fault of one overdressed coworker.

Today Brynn and I are sharing a booth at the Fall Festival Fandango. There are a lot of F’s in that name, but it’s basically all the great things about fall wrapped up in a Saturday afternoon. Crisp weather. Excellent food. And business opportunities. Brynn is promoting her blog and books, and I’m promoting, well, me. I have a fresh stack of business cards to scatter like seeds in the wind. I should be all fired up to find new clients.

And yet I’m not. It’s strange.

My bestie gives me a hip bump. “What is wrong with you? It’s a beautiful day, and I’ve fed you four different ball-shaped foods. Sadie is off buying us apple pie, pumpkin fritters and coffee. That’s like, all the best things in life, except bacon. Why so glum?”

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