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I arch toward him, then pull away.
“You need to take off your boots.” My voice is little more than a hoarse whisper. “And your socks.”
Will nods, almost imperceptibly. The lines in his forehead, between his eyebrows, deepen just enough to tell me he wants to argue but is stopping himself. He kicks his hikers toward the forest. Throws his socks behind him with a dramatic flourish. Points to the zipper on his pants with a question in his eyes.
I nod. “I promise this will be unforgettable.”
Will takes his time, connecting earth energy with ours. Once he’s inside me, I grab the picnic table, my nails digging into the wood as I ride the waves of pleasure. It’s even more intense than I’d imagined it would be. But Will isn’t appreciating the view—either of me writhing below him or the landscape spread out in front of him—his eyes are pressed tight and his mouth is open.
When Will comes, he makes a sound I’ve never heard before. It’s raw and guttural and entirely unashamed. He’s breathing hard when he opens his eyes, first looking at me then out at the expanse of nature. I stay quiet and just watch him settle. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull out, though that’s happening on its own.
He speaks first. “B-plus.”
I laugh. “How disappointing.”
“Not at all. I messed up. Didn’t follow your instructions. Let’s eat and try for the A-plus experience in twenty minutes.”
Oh my goddess, I love this man.
27. Will
SUSHI-TASTROPHE
Iadmit, for a man who’s traveled to every major city in the US, Canada, and Europe, I may have led somewhat of a sheltered life. But when I agreed to spend three nights in a house without staff (aside from six pain-in-my-ass security guards) in a town so small it doesn’t even have a place to get takeout, I had no idea what I was agreeing to.
Just weeks until my forty-second birthday and until yesterday I’d never had to concern myself with things like not having exactly the food I want to sate a craving, or sleeping in a bed with a dollar store mattress and sheets made of sandpaper, or running out of hot water while showering.
That said, until yesterday, I’d never experienced the astonishing pleasures of eating blackberries straight off the vine, naked sunbathing on a mountaintop, or carving my initials into a picnic table to memorialize the most intense sexual experience I’ve had in over twenty years of sexual experiences.
Virginia’s world is one of extremes that annoy and delight me in equal measure.
“I want to take you to my favorite sushi restaurant tonight,” she says after we step out of the tepid shower, post-hike number three.
“It’s such a pain to go out. Let’s order in,” I suggest, wrapping a towel around my hips. My chest tightens at the secret I’ve been keeping from her for weeks—that during one of our “become one with the soil” park walks, someone took our photo and figured out who she is. And that they’ve made a threat—with the requisite request for money, of course—that’s got my security team on edge. Which is why I’m on edge. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about someone threatening to kidnap me. But threaten Virginia? I have to tell her this weekend but want to wait until the end so she can enjoy this time in her personal definition of the happiest place on earth.
“Come on!” She tugs at my towel. “Half the fun is being able to order one thing at a time. And I never know what I want until I walk in. Will it be grilled hamachi or tuna sashimi?” She smacks her lips and looks longingly into the air, oblivious to the towel I’m holding out for her.
“Then we’ll order both. No, we’ll order one of everything on the menu, eat what we want, and let the six hounds of hell finish the leftovers.”
She accepts the towel and keeps her eyes focused on the part of her body she’s drying while she talks. My attention follows hers.
“The fact that you call your security detail the hounds of hell suggests you feel like you’re trapped in the underworld.” Virginia looks up from her now-dry upper thigh. My interest has wandered a little higher.
“Ahem!” She clears her throat and I look up to her smirk. “The other half of the fun is people watching and being in a different energy environment from what you have at home.”
“It’s such a hassle,” I complain, following her into the bedroom.
Virginia riffles through her suitcase, butt naked, while she continues to press the subject. “Why are we traveling with six assassins if not to have the freedom to enjoy some time out in the real world?”
She has a point. Three of them could’ve left if we were just planning to stay in this strange little village.
“Fine. We’ll go out. Make a reservation for seven.”
She shakes her head as she pulls on leggings. “The thing is, you can’t reserve a table at this place. It’s best to arrive early.”
“What? Is it like a fast-food joint? I am not eating sushi from a chain restaurant.”
Virginia levels a silent stare at me. I take a step back.
