“Good. Now, beg.”
I smirk, watching emotions war on her face. She doesn’t like this idea.
But Ineedher to say it.
I’m not an idiot. She doesn’t want us to have actual sex. She’s not going to let me in, metaphorically or physically. Fine.
But she sure as hell is going to admit to this desperation, this raging need between us. It’s not just me.
“Please, Benedict.”
“Ben,” I correct her.
She arches her back as her fingers move down. Her fingers start to work and she keeps her eyes locked on mine, putting on a little show that I’ll remember over and over again the rest of my days.
“Husband. I am begging you.”
Kill me dead.
I whip off my briefs, stand, grip myself and give her exactly what she asked for.
She stares at my cock and unravels quickly, then asks to touch me. I oblige.
Then I almost black the hell out. From a hand job in a closet.
She asks to watch Harry Potter as we dress.
She asks for a sip of my tea.
She asks to lay her head in my lap.
I’d give her anything she asked.
Anything. Everything.
But I don’t think she will ask anything more of me.
Isn’t this supposed to be the dream? A goddess of a woman who only wants sex? Who barely wants my money, beyond whatwe already agreed upon? Who doesn’t want my connections, my status? Doesn’t want my time or my feelings?
Not a minute spent with Janelle could be called a nightmare but damn—this unrest, this nagging, needing, wanting feeling…this does not feel like a dream.
34
JANIE
“So, how exhausted are you?” Harper asks quietly.
“Have you hid from him in a closet yet? Taken a long shower?” A voice yells from behind her, not quiet at all.
“Steven?”
“He’s the one who switched to FaceTime. You know how he gets,” Miles sighs over Harper’s shoulder. They’re all hovering around the Roasted Chestnut’s register. Steven has a tangled string of lights and Miles holds a wreath made of chestnuts that looks like it should have been retired to a dumpster maybe a decade ago.
“It was Harper’s idea!” Steven tries to defend himself.
I start to say I doubt that when an unmistakable old Jamaican voice pipes in, “Listen, she said she was texting you and we took over. Little miss Harper here had no chance.”
“Uncle Tyrone? Is the whole town on this call right now?”
