Twist the Knife (Lost Kings MC #24)

I open my mouth to say something snarky but stop. Should I tell Margot to find someone else? Someone she actually has stuff in common with?

No, she’s not looking for a relationship.

And she specifically asked for my help.

“She doesn’t want anyone else,” I say.

He heaves out a heavy, annoyed sigh. “Does she masturbate?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, let her show you what she likes. Or help her figure out what she likes. Every woman’s a little different.” He casts a stink eye toward the kitchen. “Since I assume you’ve only been fucking bunnies for the last decade?—”

“With the occasional civilian MILF thrown in for variety.”

“Great.” He shakes his head and bites down his laughter. “Older women usually already know what they like.”

“Yesss, they do.” I let out a dirty laugh.

He rolls his eyes. “Right. And muffler bunnies will tell you whatever they think you want to hear—” His eyes widen as if he stumbled upon the answer to a great mystery. “You care about whoever this is. A lot.”

“Care is a bit strong.” Lie. “I like her and want to teach her some skills for her future.” I wave my hand in the air like it’s nothing.

“Is she running away from a convent or something?”

I snort-laugh. “No.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you.” He sighs. “Make her comfortable. Go slow. Pretend you know what foreplay is.”

“Oh, I know all about foreplay, brother.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Don’t assume she’s into everything you’re doing to her. Realize she might be too nervous to tell you no. Pay attention to her body’s signals.” He lifts his shoulders, scrunches his face into an unpleasant cringe, and holds his hands out like he’s pushing someone away. “This isn’t a sign to fuck her harder.”

When I nod but don’t offer my usual snarky comment, he drops his hands and continues, “Don’t jam your dick down her throat. Be patient with her. Show her what you like. Communicate. That’s the biggest thing. Make her put into words what she actually likes and wants you to do.”

I absorb each suggestion, especially that last one. All things that should’ve been obvious. Did I really need Dex’s advice?

Or was I just hoping he’d try harder to talk me out of it?

“Thanks, brother.” I slap his shoulder.

“Does this mean you’re not going to help me out at CB anymore?” he asks.

I curl my lip. Why the fuck would he assume that? “No, why?”

“Figured someone that innocent might not like her man working in a strip club.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m not her man. I’m no one’s man.”

He narrows his eyes, then shakes his head. “You know what? It’s not my business. Just be nice and be clear with her that it’s not a relationship.”

“Already covered that part.”

“Well, give her a refresher course before you get down to business. Don’t be a dick. But be clear.”

“I will.”

He stares at me a few seconds longer. “Wow, I really woke up in the Twilight Zone this morning.”