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“Why are you asking that?”
“Fancy was talking about it. Said she wouldn’t mind being Eiffel Towered by you and Marco.” I cough. “Everyone laughed and agreed but like . . . what is that?”
“Maybe this is a conversation for another day.” Her eyes open now and she looks at me, failing to focus on me.
“Is it sexual?” I smile.
“Yeah, baby. It’s sexual.”
“Like a threesome.” Jesus Christ.
“Yes.”
“How does it . . . How does it work?” she asks, and there it is.
Just the tiniest hint of curiosity laced with intrigue and maybe even little bit of heat.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I clear my throat before glancing over at her. The back of her head is against the head rest, her face turned toward me, eyelids heavy.
“You really want to know?” I ask, and she nods so I sigh and like every other moment since Lilah has walked into my life, I do as she asked, explaining what an Eiffel Tower is to my sweet, nearly virginal wife. “So, one guy is . . . behind. And the girls is bent over—”
“Ooh, I like that,” she says, and her eyes go warm the way they do when she’s turned on, but a drunken version of that. I can’t help but laugh and move a hand to her thigh, squeezing before moving back to the shifter.
“Yeah, I know. So, then the second guy stands in front of her and she gives him a blow job.” Her nose crinkles and her brow furrows.
“But . . . that’s not very French.” I snort because how can you not. I turn off the highway.
“Yeah, it’s more of a . . . shape thing. If the guys, say, give each other a high five—” Her eyes are closed and she’s nodding her head.
“Ah, yeah, I can see it now. It looks like the Eiffel Tower.” She makes a face like she’s thinking hard about it before her eyes open lazily again. “It is weird that that’s kind of hot? Like, it kind of made me wet thinking about it.”
I might love drunk Lilah most of all.
“Not weird but know right the fuck now that’s never happening. You’re not even looking at another man for the rest of your very long life, Delilah Carluccio.”
“Okay, now that made me wet,” she says, her eyes closing and a small smile playing on her lips.
This fucking woman.
“But, I meant like . . . if I could clone you, that would be hot.” I adjust myself as my mind shifts from anger to heat, but she keeps talking. “You know, you fucking me from behind but me sucking you off at the same time? Your hand in my hair but also on my hips?” She hums a small sound of pleasure and intrigue and fuck if my cock doesn’t take note. “Too bad there’s not two of you, ya know?”
“Baby, you want me to figure out how to clone myself so I can fuck you every which way, I’m on it.” Her eyes drift shut as a smile is on her lips.
“Yeah. You would, wouldn’t you? I think you’d do anything for me, Dante,” she says, and then her breathing slows and I’m pretty sure she passes out.
But it’s good to know she understands just how far I’d go for her.
TWENTY-EIGHT
-Lilah-
My next opportunity to win over the men comes when I overhear an argument as I’m walking through the Carluccio compound.
Truth be told, I cannot wait to get out of this place. Despite Dante owning the giant freaking mansion, I’ve already informed him that not a single part of me intends to stay in this home long-term.
It’s too big.
