The New Rule: (The Casual Rule 2) Read Online Free

I’m wasting my life writing for a living.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s fine. I’m used to it. He can say whatever the fuck he wants. I don’t give a shit.”
    He’s lying. I know it bothers him. I don’t think he’s seeking his father’s approval, but he does expect respect for his decisions. I know he earned it. Too bad his father has blinders on to anything that’s not in his plan.
    Asswipe.
    It’s time to change the subject. Ben has a lot on his plate. Between the pressures of deadlines on his book, his grandmother’s health and his father’s finger wagging every time he sees him; it’s taking its toll on him. He closes up, even to me. I’ve accepted that this is part of Ben’s personality. Maybe that’s why he never committed to anyone in the past, so he could keep these things bottled up. He’s great at sharing the good stuff… but he’s broody and distant when he looks deep within himself. It’s probably a defense mechanism, so he never gets hurt. I don’t know. I’ll leave that up to his shrink to figure out.
    Sex cures everything. That’s what Allie says, anyway. I plan on testing her theory and see if I can readjust Ben’s mind-space.
    Casually, I push the uneaten end of my hot dog until a few inches are hanging out past the bun, then turn it around so it’s facing my mouth. Bringing it to my lips, I swirl my tongue around the tip of the exposed hot dog.
    “Mmm,” I groan. “This is delicious.”
    Ben shifts uncomfortably; takes a big swig of beer then clears his throat. “It looks like you’re really enjoying that.”
    “So good. I want to make sure I get every juicy drop.” I tip the hot dog end in my mouth and slide it in and out.
    “That’s one way of doing it. Most people would just bite it.”
    “Is that what you want, Ben? You want me to bite it?” I ask seductively.
    He shakes his head and grins. “Are we still talking about the hot dog?”
    “What else could we possibly be talking about?” I bat my eyelashes, feigning innocence.
    Admittedly, this is a pretty pathetic act of desperation. Deep-throating a hot dog to turn on my boyfriend has to be a new all-time low. At least it’s getting his wheels turning… I think.
    He leans back against the couch, grabs his beer and takes a quick swig. The beer is a diversion. He’s trying to calm himself down. The sinful way he’s watching my mouth tells me I’m getting to him.
    “Should I leave?” he asks.
    “Hmm?”
    “You and that hot dog look like you’re getting pretty intimate.”
    “I don’t mind if you watch. You like to watch… don’t you, Ben?” I ask coyly, licking the tip of the hot dog again.
    My God, I’ve turned myself into a Hot Dog Harlot.
    He shifts again. If I’m playing this game right… and I think I am… it must be getting pretty tight in his pants right about now.
    “You’re wicked,” he says, his voice low.
    “I’m hungry.” And horny. Mostly horny.
    “Your dinner is right in front of you.”
    “That’s not what I’m hungry for. Do you have anything else in your apartment I could…” I pause, running my tongue across my top lip, “wrap my mouth around?”
    “I’m sure I could find something to keep your mouth busy,” he says, placing his beer down on the coaster in front of him. He takes the hot dog out of my hand and puts it on the plate in front of me. He glides his fingertip lightly across my mouth. “You have beautiful lips. As I recall from your texts this morning, I get to decide where they touch.”
    “Yes, well, unlike you, ‘Mr. No-Sex-Until-After-Dinner’, I keep my promises. Where would you like them to touch?” I lick my lips, ready to go to town on him.
    “Here.” He taps a finger to his cheek.
    I lean toward him and give him a quick peck. He grabs my arm and pulls me hard toward him, pulling me down, until we’re both lying on the floor. He kicks the table legs to move the table enough to give us a little more space to stretch out. Luckily the beer