“So bossy,” I mutter without conviction. I will continue to make my case, but I also know I’ll lose in the end. I’m nervous about this without a doubt. It’s total madness. But I’m a realist, too, and I can feel the chemistry. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced and never expected to.
How soon will this bubble pop? We’ve known each other for less than an hour total. We’re in a hazy state of lust. It feels nice, but it can’t last, can it?
I know my brain is wavering back and forth. I want this. I want it to be real. I want what Claire, Reagan, and Arianna have. These Wilde men have only been in town for a few months, but they’ve kicked up a storm.
Remembering what we’re discussing, I shake my head. “Erase that plan from your head. We’re not having dinner in Wilde.” I need to put my foot down on this, but I also need to see if that’s something he’s going to let me do. It doesn’t seem like Ryder, Tiago, or Dallas let their wives make many decisions. I won’t be steamrolled.
“Okay. Then we have three other options. We drive to a bigger town. We eat with my family at the mansion. Or we stay here and cook.”
I tip my head way back to blink at him. He’s relented. Interesting. That’s a good sign.
As if he’s read my mind, he chuckles. And heavens, yes, that feels so good rumbling through my body now that I’m pressed against him. “I can compromise, little pixie. On some issues.”
I narrow my gaze, trying to read him. “If you’re drinking the same water as your brother and cousins, I suspect your ability to compromise is limited to inconsequential topics like where to eat. How’s your flexibility when it comes to birth control?” Might as well ask the hard question right up front. That mansion is a baby-making factory.
His hand slides between us, and he presses his palm against my stomach. It’s so unexpected and intimate. “I’ve been drinking the same water as them. What can I say? They’re all so happy. I’ve never seen a group of sappier men in my life. I’ve been working my ass off for years to make my business successful. I’m forty-five. I’ve got the bug. Why would I waste another moment of my life waiting when the right woman is in my arms?”
I can’t breathe. He’s not fooling around. He’s serious. “You barely know me,” I interject. “Maybe I have traits or habits you won’t be able to tolerate.”
His infectious smile gets to me again. “Like your potty mouth?” he teases.
“Yes, Brody. Like my fucking potty mouth.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I’ll just spank you every time you cuss until you decide it’s not worth it.”
I gasp. How many times have I fantasized about this man spanking me? Every night since I met him. Plus, this is the second time he’s mentioned it out loud. I want to tell him to stuff his fucking ideas about disciplining me up his fucking ass. But I also want him to take me over his knees right now and make good on his threat because I’d give just about anything to find out if the experience is even half as good as what I read and write about.
Brody’s smile is back. “You’ll never be able to hide your reactions from me. Every time you’re embarrassed or aroused, your cheeks turn pink.” He strokes one with his thumb. “It’s adorable. I want to know what other parts of you turn pink when you’re horny or self-conscious.”
My face heats further. I don’t respond. I can’t. If I tell him he’s not going to see the rest of me, I’ll be lying. I suspect he will manage to get me naked before the end of the day. What does that say about me?
I feel like I’m inside a romance novel. The best one I’ve ever written. It seems better, actually. I’m running through all the things that have to happen to make the books perfect.
Sexy, hot god shows up. Check.
Heroine swoons and can’t help herself. Check.
Instalove. Check. Though that one makes me nervous.
Overprotective, bossy alpha hero who asserts his authority. Check.
Small town. Check.
And then the kinkier things come to mind. Breeding. Pregnancy. Already, he’s checked those off.
If he starts talking about lactation, I’ll faint. But I won’t be shocked.
“We’ll hold the spanking until after dinner. I’ll let you choose from the options. Out of town, the mansion, or here.”
I swallow. Oddly, I don’t feel like going out in public with him. Not even someplace where we won’t know anyone. I’d rather this unconventional first date be more intimate. And that rules out the mansion, too.
For one thing, I don’t want to chat with his family and answer a bunch of questions I don’t have the answers to. For another thing, I feel drawn to spend this evening alone with him. Talking to each other. I want to ask all the questions and hear the answers from his lips. Plus, I’ll reciprocate. He needs to know me, too.
Maybe after an evening of talking, we will have worked this wild attraction out of our system and be able to walk away. I’d prefer we do that sooner rather than later. Might as well lay all our cards on the table now instead of dragging this out for days or weeks or months.
“Let’s stay here.”
“I like that plan. This way, I get you all to myself.” He beams.
