“Ha, ha,” he grumbles. “No, if I win, you’re my personal slave for an afternoon. But think carefully before you agree.” He brings his lips to my ear, whispering. “Because if you’re my slave, I might get a few ideas. Like dressing you in a sexy maid’s outfit and having you dance around the place, underwear not f*****g permitted, sliding my hand higher and higher up your legs as you bend over to dust our apartment. I might tie you up, but for real this time, strap you to my bed and spank you until you’re so wet you’re begging for me to move inside you. And only when you’re pleading… only then will I slide my c**k inside your wet, aching pussy.”
“f**k,” I whisper. “I might just throw this race if I wasn’t so damn competitive. Let’s go, playboy. Let’s do this.”
When we drive up to the corner
