It’s so unexpectedly hot that I might explode. Right here in the middle of this well-lit kitchen while wearing overalls with a blown-out knee and not an ounce of friction where I want it.
The physical connection Jonathan and I have has always met my needs. The sex isn’t wild, but it’s always been good.
However.
He’s never unexpectedly sucked my finger in broad daylight. And as Nash does just that with his dark eyes on mine, it might be the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s just my finger and just his mouth and it burns me up like a full-fledged affair. I should tell him to stop, yet I can’t pull my hand away.
Slowly—soslowly it hurts—the ring breaks free. And with his teeth scraping along my skin, he swirls his tongue, the ring just along for the ride.
One knuckle.
Two.
Until it slips off the end where he—briefly—sucks my fingertip before pulling his mouth away.
If I wasn’t a woman with morals and dignity, I’d demand he do that again. I’d drop to my knees and beg him to suck my finger all day long.
He pulls the ring from his mouth, and it glistens with saliva as he pinches it between his fingers. “Got it.”
I take a few seconds to remember how to breathe, clear my throat, then say, “Good.”
With my thumb, I circle the now-vacant spot on my ring finger and feel the residual moisture. And remember Jonathan. My fiancé. Who I love. Who is practical and buys me flowers and rubs my shoulders and helps me make pros and cons lists.
“Hm.” Nash’s fingers are back on my skyrocketing pulse. He feigns concern. “Didn’t seem to help.”
Dammit.
“I’m engaged,” I snap.
I say it because I don’t know what else to say. Because I am engaged and he just sucked my finger. Because my desire to have him do it again is so severe I nearly reach out to him. Because I want his tongue on so many other places right now. Because he’s not Jonathan and I love Jonathan, but something very real is happening with Nash, and it might not have anything to do with his mouth or my finger.
Nash grins, gesturing with the ring. “So you keep telling me.”
While Cap isn’t here to wheeze this little party apart, the kettle on the stove whistles and saves the day, pulling Nash’s hand and attention from me.
I swear under my breath then march to the bathroom and nearly waterboard myself under the faucet.
Blotting my face with a towel, I take a deep breath and whisper to my face in the mirror, “Get your shit together, Rue.”
I am a torn sheet of paper in human form. I love Jonathan, I do, but there’s no denying I liked what just happened.Reallyliked it.With Nash. A man who isn’t Jonathan that I’m already married to and here to divorce. I splash twenty-nine more gallons of water on my face.
This is not good. This is really, very, extremely not good. I pull my phone out of my pocket and fumble to find Jonathan’s number; he answers after two rings.
“Hey, Rue.” His voice is warm. “Good timing. My brother just got here.” A familiar hello calls from the background.
“Hey. Right. Your trip.” I keep my voice low but there’s no hiding the panic. I’m doubting our relationship in my husband’s bathroom, and my fiancé is going on a bachelor weekend bike ride to the mountains. Excellent. “I just wanted to call because—” I swallow. “Because I might be freaking out. Nash is—Nash. I don’t know—I’m-I’m different here. With him ... I’m—” Not making any sense. “I don’t know what to do.”
Because crying into Cap’s shoulder broke a seal on my eyeballs, they well up.
“Rue.” Jonathan’s voice is one hundred percent calm. “This is normal. You’re under a lot of stress with the store and the money, and you have shared history—a child—with this man. It’s bound to stir up confusing feelings.”
At the mention of Bennie, I nearly vomit. Maybe he’s right—he usually is—but it does nothing to calm my nerves or quiet the doubt I have surrounding us. “Okay.”
“It’s pre-wedding jitters on top of everything else.”
“This feels like more than that,” I admit. “It feels like I might sti?—”
“Damn,” Jonathan says with a chuckle as muffled voices laugh in the background. “We’re a bike down, Rue. I’ll call you back.”
