Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Ashton knew being too honest when putting ideas into their jar of fantasies would come back to bite him at some point, and unfortunately he’s finally reached that point. So…now what? How is he supposed to explain his slightly curious fantasies when he isn’t sure where to start?
Maybe he just needs better ways to avoid the conversation completely?
Micha knows his not-so-subtle partner is hiding something…probably something ridiculous, knowing Ashton…but he’s got to decide how long he’s willing to let the insanity continue. Eventually, Ashton has to say what’s on his mind, right?
When crafting leads to nervous confessions and laughter, tickling won’t be the only thing that brings them closer together than ever before.
Author’s This was originally in the Naughty November 2024 anthology under the Shaw side of things, but it’s been expanded and has been moved over to the MA Innes side. Ashton is curious about a lot of things, but Hiding From Laughter explores tickling that leads to a loss of bladder control and the little side he’s doing his best to ignore. Please see the author’s site for a longer content list
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Ashton
“Did you need to work tonight?” Micha’s words were casual but there was a hint of don’t bullshit me in his tone.
Fuck.
“Um, no.” Clearly, pretending to have to work late on nights it was supposed to be my turn to pick hadn’t been as subtle as I’d hoped. “I’m done for the weekend.”
The fact that I was slightly frustrated about that said a lot about my state of mind because I loved my big lug more than life itself and he was starting to give me his I’m pissed look.
It was subtle. He wasn’t the type to get loud and angry. No, it was worse…he got disappointed. Ugh. I was such a dick.
Micha looked relaxed as he leaned back against the couch and flicked through the options on the TV, but his twitchy foot gave him away. It was one of his only tells and I’d been careful not to point it out, so to see his foot shift up and down made it clear he wasn’t as calm as he appeared. “You know, there’s probably a new movie out we could go see if you want.”
Ugh.
I was a royal dick.
“It’s Friday.” Frowning, I glanced over at the jar on the bookshelf. “And it’s my Friday. I get to pick.”
After a night of kinky crafts like decorating a jar with penis ribbon, the silly game of pulling kinks and BDSM topics out of the jar had started off as something ridiculous we’d done to spice things up without it being too stressful…but now it had gotten stressful. After a year of us alternating picking one out of the jar each week, we were down to only a handful, and somehow they’d ended up being the ones I was most nervous about.
I should’ve never crafted drunk.
After more than one drink, I lost all inhibitions and actually answered things honestly.
It was fucking dangerous, and while I had too much self-respect to cheat and go fishing for the ones I wanted to hide, I had questionable enough morals to try to avoid them.
Which was how I’d ended up with a frustrated partner looking at me like he didn’t believe me for a second.
He was really smart.
“Ashton, do you understand why I’m questioning what you want?” His unfortunately very reasonable question had me trying not to look too innocent. He wouldn’t believe it at all and I’d just end up looking more guilty.
“Um…” Ugh. He kept asking questions that were going to get me in trouble. “Yes. But there’s nothing to worry about.”
Trying to subtly work in the truth didn’t help the situation.
Nope.
He picked me up off the couch and sat me on his lap.
Sometimes one of my favorite things about our relationship was our size difference but sometimes it made me want to pout like a disgruntled five-year-old.
“I tried being patient.” Micha looked like that plan wasn’t in play any longer. “I tried asking you open-ended questions.”
Oh, yeah.
“Sorry?” I hadn’t exactly been a dick with those but I hadn’t been helpful either.
He huffed.
Ugh.
“I gave you space to work through your thoughts.” His gaze narrowed and he glared at me. I had to remind my dick that it wasn’t supposed to be sexy and he was an idiot if he thought Micha was trying to play with us. “Those plans didn’t work.”
Duh.
It was me we were talking about and he’d clearly forgotten that part.
“I’m sorry I frustrated you. That wasn’t my intention.” Avoiding the situation we were currently in had been my goal but that’d failed spectacularly. “Would you like to skip jar night and do something else? You’re kind of stressed.”
Understatement of the year right there.
“Do you want a blow job? How about we go get ice cream?” For a guy who looked a bit like a lumberjack and a biker had a baby, he loved sweets, and ice cream was one of his favorite things. “I could go for some chocolate ice cream.”
Oh, he was weakening.
“You could come over and ask me if I’d recommend it.” Raising one eyebrow, I gave him a quick peck. “You were so cute when you first tried flirting with me.”
He’d been adorably awkward when he’d been trying not to make me nervous, but what he hadn’t realized was that he was my walking fantasy, and I’d nearly come just seeing him.
Finally chuckling, he shook his head and tried to glare at me again. “You are not going to get out of this conversation just by looking cute.”
I was certainly going to try.
Wiggling on his lap, I cocked my head and pouted. “Don’t you want to pretend to go on our first date again?”
He snorted. “That was not our first date and you know it.”
Ha.
“But you’re not going to distract me with that argument either.” And he got me that time, finally glaring again. “Good try, though.”