Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
After another sip, I gave in. “He’d take one look at me and be completely unable to resist. He’d want to ravage me completely. He’d say—”
“Sorry, I have to interrupt for a moment. In this fantasy, are you wearing those exact pajamas?” He gestured toward my navy plaid flannels.
I glared at him and pushed my glasses up my nose. “You know what? Just forget it.”
“No, no. I’m sorry, go on. I’m listening.” He took another sip and watched me with a glint in his dark eyes. “Tell me what he’d say.”
I sighed, knowing I was asking to be made fun of, but unable to keep my mouth shut. Damn this champagne and his smooth talking. “He’d say I was his one and only love. He’d say nothing would ever come between us. He’d say he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with me.”
“Did he say, ‘You complete me?’ Because I saw that in a movie once and I thought it sounded like something a chick would like.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Just when I think you’re not a pig.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, laughing. “It’s just that women and men fantasize very differently.”
“Okay, so tell me yours,” I demanded. “What would your wife say to you on your wedding night to get you all hot and bothered?”
“Easy,” he said. “It’s all one-syllable stuff like, ‘oh, yes, God, right there, just like that, you’re so big, don’t stop, fuck me, harder’—I guess that’s two syllables. But you get the gist.”
Not only did I get the gist, but just hearing Enzo say those words was enough to arouse me. Beneath my flannels, my nipples tightened, and blood rushed between my legs. But I had to pretend I wasn’t turned on. “Oink. Also a one-syllable word.”
His grin was slow and seductive. “You don’t like talking in bed?”
I shrugged, hating how hot my face felt. I knew it had to be candy-apple red. “Not much.”
“See, I think a woman should talk in bed. I think she should say exactly what she wants and how she wants it. Otherwise, how’s a guy supposed to know how to please her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Most guys probably figure if she says nothing, it all just feels good. And I bet that’s not the case.”
“That is not the case,” I confirmed. “Can I have the last chocolate?”
“It’s all yours. That’s why you have to talk,” he went on. “Tell the guy what feels good and what doesn’t. He’s not a mind reader.”
“But what if I’m shy about it?” I said as I chewed caramel and chocolate.
“You? Shy? Come on.” He gave me a look that said no way. “Maybe as a kid, but not anymore.”
“But I still find it difficult to be vocal about what I want in that particular situation, okay?” I licked my fingers.
“So how do you let the guy know what you like?”
“I just sort of think really hard about it and hope he gets the message.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Enzo finished his champagne, got out of bed, and set his empty glass on the table. “No amount of wishful thinking is going to bring you some kind of fairy-tale magic-wand dick that just knows how to make you come. Even I like a little direction. You want more champagne?”
Agitated, I shook my head. What I wanted was his fairy-tale magic-wand dick inside me, making me come without my having to ask for it. Why couldn’t he find me so alluring he couldn’t resist?
“I’ll be right back.” He went into the bathroom, and as soon as I heard the door close, I pulled my pajama top away from my body repeatedly, trying to cool off. Then I chugged the rest of my champagne. I was going to melt lying next to him all night.
When he came out of the bathroom, I went in and brushed my teeth. By the time I came out, he’d turned off all the lights, and I had to feel my way toward the bed. Reaching it, I turned back the covers and slid beneath them. Facing away from him, I set my glasses on the nightstand and curled up into a ball.
My heart was pounding. My head was buzzing from the champagne. When I inhaled, I could smell his cologne. Squeezing my eyes shut, I willed my senses to shut down and let me sleep.
But I couldn’t. I was too tipsy. Too hot. Too bothered.
Too curious.
I kept thinking about what Enzo had said. I think a woman should talk in bed. I think she should say exactly what she wants and how she wants it.
I rolled onto my back and whispered into the dark. “Hey.”
“What?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Me neither. I was about to jerk off, but I thought you might be mad about it.”
I bit my lip. “What if I wasn’t?”
“Huh?” He sounded more alert. “That was a joke.”