I had a lot of experience with penises. I’d experienced a few, but I wasn’t a connoisseur. Of the penises I’d seen, live and in person, I could say as an overall statistic that they were average. Nothing crazy. Just regular dicks, hanging out, doing their thing.
Jason’s was a work of art.
I remembered it clearly, even when I tried my best to forget. It had everything—size. Length. Girth. Smoothness. Overall proportion. And I’d been forcibly reminded of it when it had nearly made me come through my panties yesterday as I’d lain on the ground beneath him in the park like a crazy woman.
I was saved from having to explain my hyperfocus on Jason’s anatomy when Tina came back to the table, as if summoned by my awkward humiliation, and asked for our orders. I opened my mouth and somehow a breakfast order came out, one for me and one for him. I must have made sense, because Tina nodded and walked away. Get some control, Megan, I told myself.
“Okay,” I said to Jason when Tina was out of earshot. “First of all, let’s make something clear. That is not happening again.”
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Damn, that’s too bad. Are you sure?”
No. “Yes. Absolutely.”
He sighed. “Okay.”
I felt a small pang at that— am I an idiot to talk myself out of Jason’s dick? —but it was for the best. “Fine,” I said. “Let’s talk details. There’s something I didn’t tell you about this wedding.”
He looked at me warily as Tina set our breakfast plates down, and then he picked up his fork. “What is it?”
I took a breath. “It’s in Cape Cod.”
Jason speared some scrambled egg and frowned, calculating. “Seriously? That’s, what, two days’ drive?”
“Around sixteen hours, yes. Give or take.”
“So this is a five-day commitment.”
I nodded, poking at my own breakfast. “Luckily you’re unemployed.”
“Hey. I’m employed.”
I shrugged. “So you’ll have to take a few nights off from cleaning college kid barf.”
He reached for the hot sauce and dumped some on his eggs. Gross. “I don’t clean the barf, the janitors do. I kick guys’ asses and put drunk girls’ clothes back on.”
“And I’m sure you’re very skilled at it.”
He gave me half a grin. “I detect sarcasm. You have no respect for my profession.”
“None at all.”
“That’s no fair,” Jason said, spearing more eggs. He really was starving. “I have great respect for your ability to work the Drug-Rite cash. How will anyone buy their Preparation H without you for five days?”
“Ha ha,” I said. In fact, I had had a terrible time getting the time off, and was half worried there would be no job for me when I got back. I’d already called in sick today to go to the appointment with Dr. Pfeiffer. The thought made me tired. “And there’s another thing. My car is too shitty to make the trip, so we’re taking yours.”
“Huh,” Jason said thoughtfully, picking up a piece of crispy bacon and biting into it. My heart pounded in my chest. He’s going to say no, I thought wildly. He’s going to tell me to go fuck myself and walk out.
I had a problem asking people for favors. In fact, I’d never asked anyone for a favor this big. Not ever. I was used to handling everything alone, not asking for help. It was completely, utterly uncomfortable, as if I’d put on a pair of Spanx three sizes too small.
“Okay,” Jason said.
I tried not to make my voice squeak in relief. “You’re still in?”
“Hey, I owe you, right?” he said. “I figure with this wedding thing plus the orgasm I gave you, it’ll make up for how shitty I treated you.”
I dropped my gaze to my plate and ate some eggs. “The orgasm is not part of the deal,” I mumbled to the table.
“You’re right,” Jason said. “I changed my mind. That was a freebie.”
I looked back up at him. His plate was mostly empty, and he picked up his coffee, smiling at me.
“Do you own a suit?” I asked him. Control,
Jason’s was a work of art.
I remembered it clearly, even when I tried my best to forget. It had everything—size. Length. Girth. Smoothness. Overall proportion. And I’d been forcibly reminded of it when it had nearly made me come through my panties yesterday as I’d lain on the ground beneath him in the park like a crazy woman.
I was saved from having to explain my hyperfocus on Jason’s anatomy when Tina came back to the table, as if summoned by my awkward humiliation, and asked for our orders. I opened my mouth and somehow a breakfast order came out, one for me and one for him. I must have made sense, because Tina nodded and walked away. Get some control, Megan, I told myself.
“Okay,” I said to Jason when Tina was out of earshot. “First of all, let’s make something clear. That is not happening again.”
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Damn, that’s too bad. Are you sure?”
No. “Yes. Absolutely.”
He sighed. “Okay.”
I felt a small pang at that— am I an idiot to talk myself out of Jason’s dick? —but it was for the best. “Fine,” I said. “Let’s talk details. There’s something I didn’t tell you about this wedding.”
He looked at me warily as Tina set our breakfast plates down, and then he picked up his fork. “What is it?”
I took a breath. “It’s in Cape Cod.”
Jason speared some scrambled egg and frowned, calculating. “Seriously? That’s, what, two days’ drive?”
“Around sixteen hours, yes. Give or take.”
“So this is a five-day commitment.”
I nodded, poking at my own breakfast. “Luckily you’re unemployed.”
“Hey. I’m employed.”
I shrugged. “So you’ll have to take a few nights off from cleaning college kid barf.”
He reached for the hot sauce and dumped some on his eggs. Gross. “I don’t clean the barf, the janitors do. I kick guys’ asses and put drunk girls’ clothes back on.”
“And I’m sure you’re very skilled at it.”
He gave me half a grin. “I detect sarcasm. You have no respect for my profession.”
“None at all.”
“That’s no fair,” Jason said, spearing more eggs. He really was starving. “I have great respect for your ability to work the Drug-Rite cash. How will anyone buy their Preparation H without you for five days?”
“Ha ha,” I said. In fact, I had had a terrible time getting the time off, and was half worried there would be no job for me when I got back. I’d already called in sick today to go to the appointment with Dr. Pfeiffer. The thought made me tired. “And there’s another thing. My car is too shitty to make the trip, so we’re taking yours.”
“Huh,” Jason said thoughtfully, picking up a piece of crispy bacon and biting into it. My heart pounded in my chest. He’s going to say no, I thought wildly. He’s going to tell me to go fuck myself and walk out.
I had a problem asking people for favors. In fact, I’d never asked anyone for a favor this big. Not ever. I was used to handling everything alone, not asking for help. It was completely, utterly uncomfortable, as if I’d put on a pair of Spanx three sizes too small.
“Okay,” Jason said.
I tried not to make my voice squeak in relief. “You’re still in?”
“Hey, I owe you, right?” he said. “I figure with this wedding thing plus the orgasm I gave you, it’ll make up for how shitty I treated you.”
I dropped my gaze to my plate and ate some eggs. “The orgasm is not part of the deal,” I mumbled to the table.
“You’re right,” Jason said. “I changed my mind. That was a freebie.”
I looked back up at him. His plate was mostly empty, and he picked up his coffee, smiling at me.
“Do you own a suit?” I asked him. Control,
Similar Books
