Billionaire Best Friend [Complete]

1. Gracie

Six Spotlight Sexual Positions to Get You to O Faster.

I stared at Blunt Love's logo on the screen as I edited the last hour and a half of audio from Rosie's latest podcast interview. I had the habit of zoning out after a while, but the title of this particular podcast-which stared at me from a sticky note on my monitor-gripped me, along with the conversation that would undoubtedly be paraded all over the internet by her devoted fans in the coming week.

I tapped my finger on the mouse, unpausing the snippet I'd listened to multiple times over by now. My cousin's voice lifted slightly in excitement when she said, "Wait. Stop."

I knew the tone well. It was the same one I heard whenever she spilled tea on a guy. Only these days, the only Earl Grey she was seeping over was her very lovable, very protective lawyer husband, Cole Paterson. Her voice continued to play back. "You mean to tell me that sixty-nining is one of the most pleasurable positions?"

I could picture Dr. Kimulti nodding her head just like she did during the interview. Rosie had a knack for bringing in the best speakers on topics of sex and relationships, and Dr. Kimulti was far from a disappointment on the subject. She knew her stuff and not once did her cheeks blush pink while she sat across the table from Rosie while I stayed in the shadows in case anything went wrong with the equipment.

Even when Rosie called the entire crew into the lunchroom for a group sex-ed talk, a perk of having one of the most well-known relationship doctors in the state on her podcast, the doctor's cheeks hadn't turned a single shade different than her natural bronze glow.

Me, on the other hand, I couldn't help but blush. It was happening as I listened to the recording. Warmth bloomed in my cheeks, and it took me scrubbing my palms over the apples of them for it to scatter.

"Absolutely," Dr. Kimulti said," When the woman is on top, we gain access to all the control." I imagined the way she gave Rosie a cheeky little smile after she said it.

"I don't think I'm in the minority when I say that position isn't a go-to. Am I right?"

I recalled the way the doctor's head tipped to the side at that moment, her full pursed lips stretched into a half-frown, half-smile. "No. You're not. But maybe that ought to change. You have the best control over stimulation of the clitoris when it's you who's in control of the movement. Rather than, say, your partner, whether it's from a penis, finger, or tongue."

Or tongue.

I swallowed hard and all over again, my cheeks reddened to the same shade of pink I glossed over my lips that morning. The No Paparazzi sheer-shine lip stain was close to the color of the inside of a watermelon and blended with my light skin tone perfectly. But even I wasn't lost on how fitting the name of it was when it came to my personality.

It matched me to a T, and as I looked around my small, quiet office, I thought about always being happier behind the scenes and away from the camera. Or in this case, microphone.

My phone buzzed from beside my keyboard as my gaze came back to my screen. I checked it when a new message notification popped up.

Sutton: Spent the day in meetings, one of which ended with being told to go fuck myself.

Me: They didn't really say that, did they?

Sutton: Close enough.

I frowned at the thought of Sutton, my best friend since age fourteen, ruminating over a shitty workday and watched as another message popped up.

Sutton: Know what I need?

Me: Dawson's Creek and chocolate milkshakes?

Sutton: Gracie.