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“Sure. We eat. Then we have some more fun and I eat you.”
She squirms on the spot, trying to bring her legs together and quell what must be a growing need for me to do what I’m promising. My chest can’t help but swell at how responsive she is to the idea of my mouth on her.
I hand her a grilled cheese sandwich, and instead of taking it, she straightens. “Oliver, I’m not so sure about doing it here. We could eat and then head back to my place.”
“We could… I just thought… This is one of my fantasies.”
“What is?”
“To haveyouin the library.”
“Me?” She blushes and her lashes flutter.
“Yes.You.In a pencil skirt. No panties. My mouth on you. Wren, you have no fucking idea how badly I want to taste you. How it’s all I’ve thought about since you left the gym.”
A strangled whimper rips from her mouth, and she gathers her long hair in a ponytail and lifts it off her neck as if she’s burning up. “Forget about my place.”
She drops her red hair, and my breath catches. I’m so mesmerized by the way her silky locks tumble down her back that I almost fall backward when suddenly, her lips are everywhere. Wren kisses my jaw, my lips, my neck, fueled by a hunger I’ve never experienced before. It’s like she can’t get enough of me, fast enough.
Reluctantly, I pull back, her hesitation still very much at the forefront of my mind. I want to respect her wishes.
“If we go to your place, do we get to keep the lights on?”
We lost power soon after getting stuck in the gym. Our insanely glorious night together was in sheer darkness, and while I wouldn’t trade it for anything, I only wish the lights had been on.
I have to see just how far down her luscious body her beautiful blush spreads.
Wren laughs and bites her bottom lip. “You’ve been thinking about that too, huh. We’ll definitely keep the lights on.”
Chapter3
Wren
Oliver follows me home in his truck. During the short drive from the library to my small two-story house, our conversation runs through my mind. I should be satisfied, happy even, yet something eats at me. Even as the embers of my desire for him—always there, always growing—slowly heat and unfurl within me.
Once inside, the door barely closes and he’s on me, murmuring into my mouth something about if I’m hungry we can eat now. He removes my jacket and drops it.
Thud.
The sound of my coat hitting the floor echoes like a jarring clang within me. It’s the jolt I need.
I can’t do this. “Twist, wait.”
His fingers continue to work the buttons of my top, and his head dips toward mine for another kiss. He hasn’t heard me, and I hesitate to push with more force on his chest.
“Oliver. We need to talk.”
Stilling, he blinks several times as if trying to figure out who I am. Like I’m unrecognizable, and my chest aches, tightening as if it might cave in. Should I be doing this?
He rubs at the back of his neck. “Oh. Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“The two years with Dot when nothing was going on between you two, and everyone thought you were together…”
“Yeah…” He stares and I can’t form any words. He eases backward until he hits the arm of the sofa and slumps against it. “What’s your question, Wren?” His gaze sharpens on me despite the tenderness in his tone.
“It isn’t that I don’t believe you, but… two years.”
I haven’t truly asked him anything yet my gut churns, partially wanting to retreat and never venture down this path again. Yet I can’t shy away from this. I want—no,need—to know. The doubt isn’t something I can live with.
