Sinopsis
Poor Melanie. Her boyfriend spends more time surfing XXX websites than with her. Didn’t Junie have that same problem with Michael? She sure did—and fixed it with an acrylic cage and his chastity pledge. Taking Junie’s advice, she gives an ultimatum. Alas, the boyfriend splits, leaving Melanie desperate for relief. Hey, isn’t Michael available? He sure is (and he’s been caged for a year), but Junie has her price: Melanie. (Book 3 of Junie Makes Michael.)
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Junie broke the silence after the wine arrived. “I guess you want to know my answer to your request.”
“If you didn’t say yes before, why would you now?”
Junie was about to answer when the server arrived with their lunch. The discussion changed while they ate. After the plates were cleared, Junie looked at Melanie.
“If I allow you to sleep with my husband, what do I get?”
“Oh, I don’t have much…”
Junie threw her head back and laughed. “Good lord, Melanie, I’m not pimping him out!”
“What do you mean?”
“Something for me. Something in exchange.”
Melanie screwed her face up. “A slightly used solo-play machine? Just kidding, he took that, too.”
“No, something only you can give. Well, aren’t the tables turned? Now I’m the one having trouble articulating.”
“Really, Junie? After all we’ve confided to each other? My ex-boyfriend’s solo-play addiction and how your husband shrinks his thing so he can get it back in his cage?”
Junie smiled. “Have you ever been with a woman?”
Melanie looked away. “No. I’m not a lesbian.”
“Relax. Neither am I. I am, however, at least a little bisexual. I’ve never had sex with a woman. Well, a few make-out sessions with girlfriends in college. Some mutual boob squeezing, where obviously I got the better end of the deal.”
Melanie smiled.
“But I’ve never had sex with a woman, whatever that means. Orgasms, I guess. Look, Melanie, I’m attracted to you.”
“I’ve noticed you checking out my two best attributes.”
“You have lovely breasts. All I’m asking for is a date. I’d like to romance you. I’d like to kiss you. Melanie, I’d really like to touch those boobs.”
“Like I said, I’m not…”
“Did you do any acting in high school? Musicals, Shakespeare?”
“I was a train passenger in The Music Man.”
“Right. So for a few minutes during each performance, you stopped being Melanie and became a teenage girl in turn-of-the-century Iowa.”
“I see.”
“I’m attractive. I’ve got a nice figure. Maybe not so much on top, but overall, nice. I’m not butch. I’m ninety-nine percent femme, and I like to have sex with men.”
“Just pretend?”
“Nothing weird. You’re very pretty. I’d like to show you how pretty you are. Melanie, I’d like you to feel good about yourself. You need it. And you deserve it.”
