By: Claire Kent

Shit. No man in the world had the right to make two simple words sound so achingly sexy.

“It’s okay,” she said, making herself scan the page quickly so she had some clue what the book was about. Leave it to Owen to ask her the content of her improvised prop. “It’s a little too much fantasy for my taste.”

“A hot billionaire sweeps in and rescues a sweet, selfless virgin from her life of mediocrity?” His hand was resting on her belly, and his mouth was right at her ear.

Despite the fact that they’d had quite good sex the night before, Amy’s body suddenly started to hum with interest. “No. He’s a hot SEAL.” She’d figured that out from the title, so she was able to give at least a little authenticity to her pseudo-reading. “The fantasy material is his magic penis.”

“Really?” Owen took the book out of her hand and peered down at the page she’d had it opened to. “What does it do?”

She smothered helpless giggles as she realized he thought she was being literal. “The penis forks into ten heads so he can pleasure ten women at once. Hot SEALs sometimes need to do that, you know.” She was quite pleased with her attempt to keep a straight face.

His eyes widened dramatically. “What?” He was flipping back pages now, obviously trying to find the ten-women-magic-penis-orgy scene.

She burst into laughter and grabbed the book out of his hands. “That would be a man’s fantasy. This book is a woman’s fantasy. So it’s not that kind of magic penis.”

“Oh.” He looked rather disappointed, but he was still smiling her favorite smile—the private, almost intimate one, like she was the only important person in the world. But he’d given her that smile from the very beginning, so she reminded herself it wasn’t promising her anything other than a good time. “So what does it do?”

“It evidently makes her come about seven times in one fuck.” Amy flipped back to the right page to verify. “Yep, that’s seven. In like an hour or something. Definitely, too much fantasy for my taste.”

He was frowning now as he picked up his books and put the fantasy paperback on top of the pile, evidently thinking she wanted to buy it. “It’s not impossible.”

“Seven orgasms? In an hour or two? And not from oral or anything. It’s all from regular intercourse. I’d say it’s highly unlikely.”

“I didn’t say it was a common occurrence, but certainly within the realm of possibility.”

She snorted, exaggerating her disdain because the blonde was smiling at Owen from the cash register as they approached. “Right. Not any realm of possibility I’m familiar with. I’m lucky to come even once.” She did lower her voice so the blonde couldn’t hear what she’d said.

Owen’s eyes narrowed as he handed the blonde his card to pay for the books. “Is there a particular complaint you’d like to lodge?”

“Don’t get touchy. I’m not complaining. Just saying some things are realistic and some things are fantasy. And that…” She nodded toward the book, which Owen had paid for with his collection of history and biography titles. “That is fantasy.”

“Can I help you with anything else today?” the blonde asked with a hopeful smile. Her eyes had been darting between Amy and Owen, and she was clearly displeased that they were together. They’d come to this bookstore almost every Saturday for the last five months, so Amy didn’t know why the blonde would be surprised by the fact that they were together.

“Not today.” Owen flashed her one more smile as a parting gift. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” the blonde replied stupidly.

“Should we eat at Gerard’s?” Owen asked as they walked out onto the city sidewalk.

It was loud and crowded and chaotic, and Amy felt a familiar rush of anxiety. It dissipated almost immediately, but the fact that she still felt it bothered her. She’d lived in Baltimore for three years now. Surely, she’d get used to it eventually.

She liked to be in control of things, and it was hard to always feel like she wasn’t in control in this city.

She smiled at Owen and hoped he hadn’t seen her initial reaction. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

He put his hand on her back as they walked, guiding her through the crowds on the sidewalk. She didn’t like to think of herself as the kind of woman who needed a man, but she did feel more secure with him beside her.

Amy did her best not to think about the fact that, after today, she only had three more Saturdays with Owen before he left. Twenty-eight days from now he’d be on a plane back to London. For good.

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