Shit. The counter. Dinner.
I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until Wilder jumps up, grabs the roast, and fires it into the oven. He finds the baking sheet we always keep on there, snatches the potatoes I was going to peel,cut, and boil for mashing, shoves them onto the tray, and turns the oven on.
“It’ll all work out. You can trust me.” He punctuates his words with a wink.
I’m convinced there’s not a single person on this planet who could resist a Wilder wink.
Definitely not me.
My ovaries practically catch on fire and start smoking. More like, they’re char by now, considering how hot they were before, and for how long. Years. They’ve been smoldering for years.
“Would you…” He smiles, but it’s wobbly. “Would you like me to do that with you?”
“At least take me out for dinner first,” I attempt to joke, but it comes out husky and breathy. I sound… sultry. Very unlike myself. “Is now a good time to admit I’ve never done that before?”
“Never?”
“I’ve uh… been celibate for a while.” It’s hard to want someone else when you fancy one person. For people like me, it’s impossible. Casual sex has never been my thing. I don’t frown on it, but I just can’t do it myself. There’s zero attraction for me in thinking about having sex with a stranger. I’d rather pleasure my own body. At least I trust myself to do that. I wouldn’t trust someone I don’t even know. And after Wilder, there was no one else I wanted to know like that. No matter how hard I tried to force myself to get on, get over it, and stop the silly crush, it never worked. I never wanted anyone else. There was never even the smallest spark of interest. “I’ve been busy. I keep odd hours. So… I guess have at ‘er if you like.”
He wriggles his brows. It’s nice that he can talk about butt stuff with a smile on his face. “It’s what you’d like. This is a no-pressure zone.”
“The carrots. The gravy.”
“Uh, is that a metaphor? I think food items are pretty dangerous when it comes to—”
“No, I wanted to cook them too,” I say.
Understanding dawns on him. “Ahh. We’ll be fast.”
I shoot him a look. “No, we won’t.”
“Yeah, we probably won’t.”
There’s wanting someone, and then there’s needing them, and I need this man. I know this is bad. This shouldn’t be happening. We’re both naked, and the last thing I want to do is get my clothes and put them back on. I’m usually such a careful person. I think things through. I’m emotionally intelligent and averagely smart. I can make a decision, but I like to weigh all the pros and cons.
I don’t just say fuck it.
But this time, fuck it, IneedWilder. Even if having him right now wrecks me. Even if I know there’s no such thing as a one-and-done. Even if we both go up in flames. I don’t want to be rational. I don’t want to be careful. I just want to be this desperate, sultry, naked woman who gets her pussy eaten in the kitchen, and then her ass too.
Holy. Freaking. Fuck. I can’t believe I just thought that.
With my luck, I half expect the universe to intervene in the form of a tree falling on the house, a sudden rogue wave that travels miles from the beach, or the cats or the dog racing in here, but it’s quiet outside the house and in here.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s do it.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to need you to tell me what you’d like me to do,” he responds, his eyes sparkling with devilment.
Fine. If he wants to hear me talk dirty, I can do that, no matter how brutally it makes me blush. “I would like you, Jack, to haul me off this counter, turn me around, bend me over, lick my asshole, stuff my pussy full of your fingers, and finger-tonguefuck me until I come harder than I’ve ever come in my entire life, because goddamn it, it’s been a long time in the making.”
“Wow,” he whistles. “That’s hot. You’re a great writer, Carissa, but you’re a great speaker too. I’m at your beck and call.”
Chapter nine
Wilder
You know what it’s like to reveal the darkest, deepest, dirtiest parts of yourself and have someone else see that and still think you’re amazing and perfect, and there’s nothing in the world wrong with you?
I don’t. Not since my grandma.
