His chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh. She smiled. She liked that she’d made him laugh. Even if it was because she was being an idiot.
“You know, if these towels were any smaller you’d be able to see everything. I’ve never had to dry myself off using a dish towel.”
“They aren’t dish towels.” Although she’d often wondered if they were meant for characters from Middle Earth.
“They aren’t much bigger. We’ll get you better ones.”
Um, no they wouldn’t. Before she could argue, though, he’d taken his off and thrown it into the bathroom, and she became incapable of speech. Hell, incapable of anything except staring and praying to God she wasn’t drooling.
Because that would be very, very embarrassing. But if there was a man who deserved to be drooled over, it was Connor Maxwell.
She’d seen a few cocks in her time. You didn’t play at a BDSM club without encountering a lot of naked men and women. She’d never seen one she liked more, though. One she wanted to touch quite as much. Or take in her mouth.
“Jesus, baby, the way you’re looking at me right now, it’s fucking killing me.”
It was killing her too.
“Lose the T-shirt.”
Her heart raced.
“What?”
“Lose the shirt. And by that, I mean lose it forever. It’s horrible.”
It was horrible. But . . .
“What will I wear to bed?”
“Me.”
Her mouth went dry. “You-you want to have sex with me.”
He looked down at his cock then up at her, puzzlement on his face. “Baby, I know you know what an erect penis looks like. You also know what that means. Of course I want to have sex with you.” He gave her an assessing look. “Unless it’s too soon for you?”
“What? No. I want to, it’s just I wasn’t sure you wanted to.”
“Not want you?” He shook his head with a chuckle. “You are so naïve in some ways, aren’t you?”
She didn’t like the sound of that. It sounded almost condescending. She scowled at him. “I’m not naïve.”
He waved a hand. “Wasn’t trying to insult you, love. I just meant that you don’t know much about the way a man thinks.”
“Oh, yeah, and how does a man think?”
“With his cock.”
Okay, that surprised her.
“We might pretend otherwise. Talk a good talk. Dress ourselves up nice. Use our manners but at the heart of it, what a man really wants is to find himself a good, kind, sexy woman that he gets to fuck as often as he possibly can. Or a good, kind, sexy man. You know, the penis wants what the penis wants.”
She shook her head. “You are so strange.”
He just grinned and leaned against the doorway. “I’ve been called that a time or two.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But you can take one thing to the bank. My penis wants you.”
She groaned. “Please tell me you don’t have a name for him.”
“I’ve thought about it a time or two. Pleasure Pump? Lap Rocket? Neither of them seemed quite right.”