“I know that the level of stress I’ve faced on an hourly basis has been enough to explode a man’s head, but if you were my woman I would have had you against the fucking wall at least once a night. Three fucking months,” he muttered.
Lauren stared wide-eyed at the ceiling trying to control all the little tingles of pleasure that came from imagining herself against the wall, clawing at the plaster as she tried to endure hard forceful thrusts.
“Did you ever feed him my cakes?”
Oh, they werehiscakes now.
“No, I never got around to it. He was more of a pie guy anyway.” The details of her engagement sounded bad when she said them out loud, but Santi needed to know the context. “I worked long hours. So did he. We had our own homes.” She sat up frowning. “I don’t have to explain my relationship to you.”
“Never asked you to. I asked about cake. You’re the one who felt the need to justify all the things that got in the way of you and Derrick.” They were silent in the darkness together. “What hurt you more,” Santi asked. “Losing the fiancé or losing what you had with your family?”
“It was realizing that they were so willing to lose me,” she whispered, lying down this time with her back to him.
“Just FYI—because after this will be the last time you bring another man to my bed?—”
“You brought him up!” she said, flipping back over.
“I only acknowledged him, but you’d already invited him here.”
It was true, she’d allowed Derrick to follow her around like her personal demon. She was haunted by him; by what he’d done, by what they had been, by what could have been.
“What was the FYI?”
“You’d would definitely miss sex with me,” he declared.
She laughed.
“Seriously. After twenty-four hours, you’d start going through this psychological torment, wanting me, needing me. Then would come the physical withdrawal. Afterthree monthsyou’d be in jail for all the illegal things you tried to do with my body.”
“I don’t mean to be mean, but?—”
“You absolutely do mean to be mean.”
“—butI haven’t seen one woman who seems to be going through sexual withdrawal from you in the nearly three weeks I’ve been here.”
“There are at least four countries I can’t return to this very day because of the women suffering from Stillwater Sexual Syndrome.”
“Oh my God, you’re delusional.”
“Trust me, it’s a thing.” She could hear him smirking in the darkness. “I may not always learn a lesson fast, but when I learn it, I shape and master it, then it becomes mine to wield for good or for bad. You don’t see the women who suffer from the condition because I don’t have sex with anyone who lives in my jurisdiction. I’d never have peace.”
“Because the deranged women suffering from Stillwater Sexual Syndrome would be beating down your door?”
“You got it. Like I said, it’s a thing.”
She reached over and cupped the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb.
“It’s nearly three in the morning and you’ve had a long, hard day. You should rest because the more you talk, the more I’mgoing to use what you say against you when you’re in your right mind.”
He flicked her hand away and turned over.
“Goodnight, Santi,” she said, snuggling her pillow.
“Night, little wren.”
Closing her eyes, she smiled. Tomorrow—no, today—would be a good day; she could feel it in her bones.
She felt a solar explosion between her thighs and cried out from an orgasm so intense it woke her up. Eyes snapping open she hoped she hadn’t woken up?—
