She pushed the bowl of guacamole between them. “It’s technically a hair masque, but it’s just avocados and there is a little honey in it.”
“I’m game, if you are.”
“Did you ever play truth or dare as a kid?” She dipped a pretzel in the hair guacamole and closed her eyes.
“Of course.”
“I bet you always picked dare.”
“Guilty.”
Why did this hair guacamole and pretzel taste better than anything she’d ever made?
“I went camping once with Kyle’s Girl Scout troop,” she paused to look up. “Never again, but anyway, the oatmeal tasted so good that I didn’t even really need to put sugar on it. When I got home, I was like, ‘Everyone, you need to try oatmeal. It’s amazing,’ but when I made it, it was just oatmeal.”
“That’s happened to me before too. I was on this survival expedition, and I ate a squirrel. It might as well have been Kobe beef.”
Gabby held up her pretzel. “This is my oatmeal. It’s the most delicious food I’ve ever had. And we’ve only been here for a day.”
“Sometimes everything’s more delicious because of the company. If you’re sharing it with a special person, everything is special.” The way he was looking at her made her believe it.
Gabby glowed with warmth from the compliment. “Is that a truth?”
“Yes.” He chuckled softly. “I guess I’m evolving. Not just dares anymore.”
“I’m the opposite. My entire life has gone from truth to lies to one big dare.”
A surge of boldness overcame her. She was that woman, a woman who dared to go after what she wanted, who took risks. Her thirty-eight-year-old body, which had only recently been exercised, had borne two children. Everything society told her aboutbeauty, everything that she had believed about her own body and its desirability—had it been wrong?
Markus wanted her, and for the first time in her life, she was drunk on her own sexual power. The world wasn’t like she’d always assumed it was, a place where sex and pleasure were for the pretty girls at the mall. Middle-aged moms could have their share too.
She and Markus leaned into each other over the bowl of hair guac. It was like the scene inSixteen Candlesbut with guacamole instead of cake. And Molly Ringwald and the hot guy were slightly over the hill, like if they made the movie today. Molly Ringwald was a national treasure.
Fuck it. Gabby was in paradise.
After years of dormancy, the need had returned. Her breasts ached to be touched. The mission—so what. She loosened her robe and pushed it open.
Markus went bedroom-eyed and laser-focused on her like she was the only woman in the world. He whispered huskily, “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”
“Tell me,” she breathed.
He traced the line of her leg from her thigh down to her ankle. She dropped her head back and shut her eyes, savoring his touch, aching for more.
He pushed the guacamole and pretzels out of the way. They clattered across the tile floor, and the bowl almost tipped but righted itself. Markus firmly gripped her thighs and pulled her in close. In the quiet of the bathroom, the noise of her scooting across the carpet was amplified. Their breath and the water dripping into the tub she wasn’t going to make it into—every noise was a yes, a deeper slide into this moment. Heat pooled between her legs as she straddled him. Markus’s eyes were dark with desire.
She was on his lap, her décolletage exposed. Markus gripped her firmly by the ass and kissed the top part of her chest, where she’d just started putting lotion because TikTok reminded her it was about to wrinkle. He didn’t seem to notice, exhaling into the tender skin of her neck.
Gabby shut her eyes and leaned into the pleasure.
He started to slip the robe off her shoulders when—
Briiing.
Not now, Valentina.
Briing.
The phone was ringing. His hand stopped moving, and her breath hitched while they silently agreed not to answer.
