Flirting with Forever: A Hot Romantic Comedy(33)

“Hey, Mags. What’s up?”

“Did you find a dinosaur lying around somewhere?”

I picked up the little tyrannosaurus rex I’d found in the lawn. “Yup.”

“Oh good. My kids haven’t stopped asking where Rexie went.”

“Do you want me to bring it over?”

“No, it’s not that important. Just hang onto it for me and I’ll get it next time I see you.”

“Sounds good.”

“Great barbecue the other day, yeah? Other than the vaj slide.”

“Mom’s never going to live that down.”

“We have to torture her somehow.”

“True.”

“Nora was sure awesome. You need to thank her for me.”

“For what?”

“For the mind-blowing sex Jordan treated me to. I know, you don’t want to hear about it, so I’ll spare you the details. But I was checking out her column and oh my god, she’s brilliant. I tried out like three tricks she suggested and it’s basically changed our entire marriage.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Her sex column. It’s amazing. Like, seriously, if you ever think you’re going to have sex again, read everything she’s ever written first. That will be one lucky woman.”

I had no idea what to say to that. “This is not a conversation I want to have with my sister.”

“I know, I know. But seriously. Next time you see her, tell her I owe her like a hundred martinis.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, Mags.”

“Bye.”

I ended the call. Sex column? That was what Nora did for a living?

On the one hand, why not? Sex was great and there wasn’t anything wrong with writing about it.

On the other hand, Riley worshiped the ground Nora walked on. Was she reading her sex articles? Did they have anything to do with the pajama stunt?

What was the pajama stunt, anyway?

I was well aware that kids her age were doing things that, as far as I was concerned, they were way too young to do. But Riley wasn’t doing any of that. Right? She wasn’t all that into boys. She still said kissing scenes in movies were gross. I had a little more time before I had to worry about that stuff. Didn’t I?

Except her new idol was basically sex on a stick.

I googled Nora Lakes and quickly found her column, Living Your Best Life. The more I scrolled through her articles, the more my overprotective dad instinct grew.



Give, and Get, the Best Orgasms Ever Ten Ways to Drive Him Wild—Before You Hit the Sheets Shower Sex: Keeping it Steamy The Ultimate Vibrator Review: Nora’s Top Picks Oral Sex for Beginners: He’ll Think You’re an Expert Be a Tease and Make Him Love It Take Control: Five Ways to Initiate Sex





I clicked on the last one and skimmed over the first few paragraphs until the word pajamas hit me right between the eyes.



A set of sexy pajamas can be the perfect segue. Wear them at an unexpected time to give him a little glimpse and remind him of the bedroom. Choose a set that shows as much skin as possible and allows him easy access. There’s nothing wrong with a little finger-play before he gets you fully undressed.



Finger play in pajamas? Okay, fine, that sounded awesome—for adults—but what the fuck? Had Riley read this?

Even worse, had Nora suggested she read it?

I couldn’t ask Riley. If she had read it, she’d either be mortified or lie about it. If she hadn’t, bringing it up would just make her curious and she’d go read it later. On the off chance Riley didn’t know about Living Your Best Life, I wasn’t going to be the one to bring it to her attention.

But I needed to know what the fuck Nora had been telling my thirteen-year-old kid.

A voice in the back of my head told me to take a breath and slow down.

I didn’t listen.





14





NORA





The loud knock startled me. It wasn’t just a knock. Someone was pounding on my front door. It reminded me of the time one of my college boyfriends had done too many tequila shots and decided I was cheating on him—which I was not. He’d come to my dorm in the middle of the night, thinking he was going to catch me in the act, and banged on the door so hard, he’d woken up half the floor.

I was a paragraph or two away from finishing this article, but apparently that would have to wait. I got up from my desk and went to the front door to see who it was.

With a fleeting thought that I should make sure it wasn’t an axe murderer before I opened the door, I glanced out the front window.

Dex.

He was dressed, as usual, in a t-shirt and jeans, all those tattoos on display. My heart did a funny little jump at the sight of him on my front porch. Almost like I’d been missing him since Saturday and I was excited to see him again.

Not sure what to make of that, I opened the door right as he was about to knock again.

His brow furrowed, forming a deep groove between his eyes. He lowered his hand but didn’t unclench his fist and his entire body thrummed with tension.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

He stared at me for a second before answering. “Can I talk to you?”

I stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. He swept past me and stalked into the living room.