Chapter One
“Fist me.”
“What the f**k?” Maeve spat her beer over the table as she almost choked at Taryn’s words. She had to have misheard. Sweet, innocent, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth Taryn couldn’t possibly have said, “Fist me.”
“Fist me. I want you to come home with me tonight and fist me.”
Yes, she had said it. Jeez. “Um, well, um…”
Taryn stood up, dropped some money on the table and held out her hand to Maeve. “Come on. Let’s do it now.”
Her head spinning, Maeve climbed to her feet, snagged her purse off the back of her chair, and took Taryn’s hand.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to fist Taryn. Hell, she’d like nothing better. But it was more… What had happened to the slow build-up? The gentle hand touches, the sweet kisses, the pressing of hard n*****s into soft, rounded
