Page 81 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

He cleared his throat once, twice, staring up at the sky, expression indecipherable. “It’s worth a lot, actually.” He found her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Sorry, that, uh, got heavy fast.”

Heavy wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in her book. “In case you forgot, I am the one who was trying to poke around and ask about your past after only having met you... what, twice?”

“Oh, right. How could I forget you telling me you were surprised I’d never been divorced?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know you then.”

“Okay, now that you know me, what’s the verdict?” He grinned. “Still think I’m ex-husband material?”

“If I say no, does that imply I think you’re husband material or just plain unmarriageable?”

“Do you? Think I’m husband material? Generally speaking.”

“Hm.” She schooled her expression. “How’s your health insurance?”

“Oh, I see.” He smirked. “Want me to talk about my PPO, baby? I could tell you about my deductible?”

She faked a moan. “Don’t stop.”

“You know, I’d have mentioned that I get dental insurance a lot sooner if I’d have known that did it for you.”

She snorted. “Oh, did you think because I’m a romance author that I like candlelit dinners and grand gestures? We’re experiencing late-stage capitalism, McCrory. Health care’s hot.”

He tugged her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Joking aside, you realize I’m fishing to find out whether I’m going to get a fourth date, right?”

“Odds are looking decent,” she teased. “I’d say... eighty–twenty.”

He whistled. “Damn. Anything I can do to tip the scales a little further in my favor?”

She lifted her head and hummed, pretending to think. “I could possibly be swayed with a kiss.”

“Possibly, huh?” He was already leaning in. “I’ll take those chances.”

His lips pillowed softly, sweetly against hers in the chastest of kisses. He drew back and smiled. “Odds?”

“Hm. Eighty-five to fifteen.”

Colin buried a hand in her hair, tugging gently until she tipped her head back. He left a trail of kisses from her temple down to her jaw. “Now?”

“Eighty-six to fourteen,” she said, grinning up at the sky.

Colin huffed, breath hot against her skin. “And now?” He punctuated the question with a hard nip against her jaw.

“Mm, eighty—” Her breath stuttered when his lips migrated south, sucking stinging kisses into the side of her throat that were sure to leave a mark. “Eighty-seven to—to thirteen.”

He lifted his head, regarding her with low-lidded eyes. His gaze lingered on the side of her throat, almost appraising. He abandoned his grip on her hair and reached out, tracing the progression of his mouth with his thumb, pausing at the juncture where her neck met her collarbone, where he’d left a bruise in the shape of his mouth on Saturday. It had faded slightly, but a faint outline persisted against her best attempts to cover it with concealer.

He pressed his thumb against the bruise and even though it was mostly healed, Truly whimpered. His gaze snapped to hers and—

Colin looked like he wanted to devour her.

“I’ll be so fucking good for you, Truly,” he promised, thumb sweeping against the front of her throat. “You want me on my knees? Say the word and I’ll eat you out until my jaw fucking locks. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

Jesus Christ. “You’re unreal.” She slipped her hands under his shirt, popped the button on his jeans, and lowered his zipper far enough to reach into his briefs.

“Truly,” he warned.

“What?”

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