Chapter 26 A Study in Smut as a Gateway Drug
The trouble was that, vying for my attention, trying to snag my eyes from the stunning beauty outside the windows, was a world of inside delights that I had been oblivious to from the backseat.
Frankly, I was better off back there. If this was day one of our new platonic friendship, then I was doing a really bad job of it.
Long stretches of solid thighs shifted beneath denim, sun kissed the skin of his throat where his top buttons were undone, a breeze from the cracked window gusted in and toyed with his thick hair, the strands flashing different shades of mahogany and copper in rays of light.
This Jeep, of course, was a manual, and there was just something about his big hand confidently shifting those gears that made it hard to swallow.
And because he was so focused on the deadly road, that meant I could let my eyes creep all over him in my peripheral vision, like the pervert I was, until I got a headache. It was ridiculous.
Pull yourself together, woman!
Protocol for Inconvenient Lusty Thoughts:
Objective: Calm the fuck down, Maya.
1. Application of a cold-water stimulus—commonly referred to as a “cold shower”—the quickest and most successful method to douse the fire in your pants.
2. Eat something crunchy—consuming crunchy foods has been seen to improve mood, alertness, and relieve stress. Personal experiments have shown conclusively that it is difficult to imagine fellatio whilst chewing popcorn.
3. Start a conversation—when physical proximity to said sexy individual is unavoidable, distract yourself with the searing awkwardness of conversation.
I got to number three on this list and grabbed for it. Unfortunately, my protocol was grievously lacking in vital details about which conversation topics were most conducive to vaginal desiccation. Calamitously, my mind flew, as it so often did, to books—the sexiest of all topics.
“So, how far have you gotten in The Name of the Wind? Has Kvothe made it to the university yet?”
“He has.” Tadhg gave me a quick sideways glance but clearly wasn’t able to stop himself. “He just had the interview. And it was so good.”
Welp. Great. My protocol had failed me. Because what on this whole green earth was sexier than a man talking books? Oh! That’s right! A man talking books in a deep Irish accent.
“That’s such a good part! Things are really about to kick off.”
“It’s an interesting magic system, don’t you think? Limited. Grounded. It feels almost scientific.”
I swooned! This was downright filthy.
“It’s true. If the magic doesn’t feel real, it makes the whole story less believable.”
“What are you reading? Is yours a fantasy too?”
I had to focus to stop myself from heavy breathing. “Yeah, it’s a fantasy. The magic is based on Norse mythology. But, you know, with big, burly Vikings, because it’s a romantasy.”
Tadhg cocked an eyebrow. “What’s romantasy?”
Shit! I looked away hurriedly so that my maculae could not take in any more of his blindingly erotic visage while he said the word “romantasy.”
“Well, I’m glad that you asked, Tadhg.” No, I’m not! My ovaries just combusted! “It’s kind of a new word for a genre that’s become really popular lately. But it’s simple, really. It’s just fantasy-based romance novels.”
“Don’t most fantasies have romance in them?”
Just answer the question, Maya. Do not turn into a horny weirdo. “They do.” It was a tight-lipped answer. At least my lips could be tight, if nothing else was. I’ve got to change the subject—how about . . .
“What’s the difference, then?”
Drag me to hell!
“Well. It’s a thin line, I suppose, but more focus on the leading couple, or love triangle, or reverse harem, or what have you. So, how much longer is the drive, do you think? Do you like driving?”
“Wait. What’s a reverse harem?”
Okay. I’m officially a fucking idiot.
I couldn’t ignore him, and changing the subject had been unsuccessful.
The only answer was to go through the gauntlet.
I answered quickly, cold and informative.
Like ripping a Band-Aid off. I can do this.
“Well, a traditional harem is one man, several wives; this is one woman, several lovers. Often for group sex.” No, I can’t!
He let out a breathy half laugh. “Yeah. Okay. I get why that’s popular.” Do you? “And I assume there’s plenty of sex in the books?”
“You assume correctly. It all depends on the novel, of course, but most romantasy is open-door.”
“What’s that?”
I looked over to see if he was teasing me. Did he know what he was doing to me? But his face, as it watched the road, looked as earnest as it ever had.
“Meaning sex on the page.”
Just checked. Yep! Still an idiot.
I couldn’t believe that I was explaining smut to Tadhg Kelly, and that he seemed curious about it.
I didn’t want him to be interested in the things that I liked!
The only way this worked was if he was completely and entirely unlikable.
We had enjoyed each other’s company yesterday, and now this?
Now we had . . . things in common. And not just anything. Books!
I wanted my mouth on his neck while we talked about magic and smut. I couldn’t help my eyes coasting across his neck. I wanted to smooth my hand down his chest and—
“Well, you’ll have to make a list of your favorites for me. I wouldn’t really classify myself as a romance reader, but I’m intrigued.”
Uh-oh. Tiny orgasm.
“Yep.” Nope! “I’ll do that.” No, I won’t!
Tadhg reading one of my romantasy recommendations might just break me.
Every night we’d go to bed in different hotel rooms, and I would know that somewhere on the other side of a wall or two was Tadhg reading dirty fairy sex.
I would never sleep again. And I would probably have to go to the doctor and explain why my hand had calcified into a claw from overuse.
“Is that what you’re always listening to on your headphones? At first I figured it was music, but you said something about an audiobook.”
“Yeah. All the time—when I’m doing laundry, cooking, vacuuming, walking to the studio, yoga, before bed, in the bath.”
“Reaaally.” He drew the word out, and it felt dirty as anything. I wondered if he was picturing me in the bath, listening to smut. “I’ve never listened to an audiobook, actually.”
“You what?!” My whole body turned so fast that I got whiplash. Every other stupid thing left my mind. “You’ve never listened to an audiobook?”
“Nope.”
“Not ever?”
“Nope.”
“But what about when you’re shearing all those sheep, or scrolling through sheep pictures, or driving to a faraway sheep show, or writing articles for Sheep Fancy?”
He chuckled. “Don’t forget who’s driving your arse around, you brat. I just—I’m not a big fan of technology. I like to focus on my work.”
“All right. Well. We’re listening to one. I’m signing into my Libby right this damn second.”
“Hmm. All right. I guess I could go along with that.”
“Oh, you don’t get a choice. We’ve got a lot of driving ahead of us, and the perpetual hell of your scowling silent treatment isn’t nearly as entertaining as you think it is.”
“Keep it up, Davis, and you’ll be sorry.”
Mm. That tone. Will there be spanking?
Okay. I had officially gone off the deep end. An audiobook was an excellent idea. Total distraction.
Libby open, I clicked a title with a classic high-fantasy cover: a single character in a cape looking off into the distance, ready to set out on a sex-free adventure—Curse of the Flame Hunter, one of the few on my Tbr that looked somewhat safe.
I scanned the blurb for the usual signs of smut.
We could handle one chili, maybe, but the last thing I needed was to be stuck in a car listening to Kiss of the Basilisk with Tadhg and his penis sitting right next to me.
“ ‘In a land torn by shadows and ancient grudges, a forgotten power sparks once more,’” I read. “Does that work for you?”
“Have you read it before?”
“Nope. Not even sure when I added this to my Tbr. I don’t remember anything about it. Cover looks suitably cool and mysterious, though.”
“Okay. Sure.”
I connected to the Bluetooth and pressed play. “Buckle up and get ready to escape into the Nightbound Realm!”