Ricky Spanish steps through Nyomi Star’s front door like he’s waiting for a trap to spring. She’s all hips and confidence, laughing at something he barely remembers saying. His heart’s doing backflips while his mouth trips over every word. He blurts out a shaky “good night,” spins on his heel, and makes a beeline for the exit. Nyomi catches his wrist and drags him backward, eyes sparkling. “Where do you think you’re going?” Ricky’s brain short-circuits. She grins, shakes her head, and steers him straight to the bedroom like she owns the deed. He stumbles after her, muttering. “I didn’t think tonight would even get this far. Most girls bail once they figure out I’m the comic-book guy. You’re… you’re way out of my league.” Nyomi tugs his shirt up, palms gliding over warm skin. “Cute geek’s exactly my type.” She peels the fabric away, lips curling when he twitches. Ricky can’t stop shifting, nerves crawling up his spine. She frowns, curious, and keeps coaxing until the truth spills: he’s never done this, doesn’t want to fumble it. Relief flashes across her face. She cups his cheek, voice low and filthy. “Relax, baby. I’m gonna show you every filthy move that makes a woman scream.”
Ricky Spanish steps through Nyomi Star’s front door like he’s waiting for a trap to spring. She’s all hips and confidence, laughing at something he barely remembers saying. His heart’s doing backflips while his mouth trips over every word. He blurts out a shaky “good night,” spins on his heel, and makes a beeline for the exit. Nyomi catches his wrist and drags him backward, eyes sparkling. “Where do you think you’re going?” Ricky’s brain short-circuits. She grins, shakes her head, and steers him straight to the bedroom like she owns the deed. He stumbles after her, muttering. “I didn’t think tonight would even get this far. Most girls bail once they figure out I’m the comic-book guy. You’re… you’re way out of my league.” Nyomi tugs his shirt up, palms gliding over warm skin. “Cute geek’s exactly my type.” She peels the fabric away, lips curling when he twitches. Ricky can’t stop shifting, nerves crawling up his spine. She frowns, curious, and keeps coaxing until the truth spills: he’s never done this, doesn’t want to fumble it. Relief flashes across her face. She cups his cheek, voice low and filthy. “Relax, baby. I’m gonna show you every filthy move that makes a woman scream.”