Page 70 of Sweet Oblivion

The offer?

The one where you offered to help me with my little problem?

Ryker

I never called it a problem, Lane.

Delaney

I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin, Ryker. There are worse things to be.

Ryker

Never said there was anything wrong with it, Bambi. You were the one who was uncomfortable. I just offered to get you more... comfortable. I mean, after all, what else are husbands for?

Delaney

Well, when you put it that way . . .

. . .. . .. . .

I wait with baited fucking breath as the dots start and stop on the phone a few times before they don’t start again. Maybe it’s time to have a little fun with my little wife.

Ryker

Did you like what you saw, wife?

Delaney

I’m not your wife yet.

Ryker

You didn’t answer the question.

Delaney

Fine. Yes, pretty boy. I liked what I saw. Happy?

I take a chance and hit the FaceTime option and wait for her to answer.

It takes a minute, but when her face appears, flushed and damp and even prettier than I pictured, I grin like a fool. “How did it make you feel,mia moglie?”

Delaney’s brows crinkle. “What? What does that?—”

“Answer the question,” I push, softer this time, connecting my hearing aids to the Bluetooth on my phone

“I mean...” Her cheeks flush, and I fight like hell not to adjust myself as she covers her face.

“Eyes on me, Lane.”

Dropping her hands, her eyes flash to mine, defiance shining back at me. And there it is. That fire I saw the very first time we met. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?”

“Once or twice. You going to deny liking it?” I counter.

“No.” One single word, soft and low and so damn raw. “I liked it. I liked seeing you like that,” she whispers. “You looked sexy and powerful. And I knew you were... safe.” The last word slips out. “And I like that you said my name. That you thought of me. It made me feel... I don’t know. I guess for a split-second, I felt powerful.”

“You are powerful, Lane. You have all the power. If we do this—any of this—it’s on your terms.” Fuck. I want this woman so bad. Weeks of watching her sleep. Of sleeping next to her. Of touching but not. It’s coming to a head. “I will never do anything you don’t want, Delaney.”