Page 67 of Something Like Sunflowers

“Oh, I don’t think so, Little Miss Perfect.” He holds the phone closer, and his smile suddenly widens, his gaze shooting to mine.

“Dev, are you one of those book girls?”

His darkening stare could pin me to the wall, and I really wouldn’t mind. If he stares at me like that for the rest of my life, I’ll stay pinned wherever the fuck he wants me.

Holy shit.

“You’re thinking filthy fucking things when you make that face and stare off into space. I just know it.”

His teasing words snap me out of my fantasy.

But is it a fantasy if he’s offering it up on a silver platter? It could be a reality if you let it.

“No! I mean…well, yeah, I guess.”

His smile twists. “This is golden. You’re into those kinky Shades of Sex books, aren’t you?”

“Oh, my God, that’s not the title of those,” I scoff, maneuvering around the side table. “Look, you really don’t want to read that. If you think those books are bad, you aren’t ready for what’s lingering in the depths of my Kindle. Promise.” I shake my head, unable to stop the heated blush spreading across my face, as he lies back into the pillows and kicks up his feet, waving one hand while the other stays clutched to my phone like it’s the morning paper and we’re in a fifties sitcom.

“You go finish dinner, wife. Leave me to my research. I need to see what I’m up against so I can be your happily ever after.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna like what you’re up against.” I snort, tongue in cheek.

“Hold the fuck up.” He sits up suddenly, eyes wide and serious. “You’re telling me that you, and thirty other women you know, have read Stuffed by The Mashed Potato Man?”

“And liked it.” I smirk proudly.

“Auctioned Off to My Alien Stepbrothers? What the hell, Dev?” He shakes his head, looking back and forth between me and the phone in disbelief. Laughter breaks free from my body and fills the room.

“They’re not as bad as they sound, honest. Most of the time, we just read the crazy ones to have something to joke about all day long, but other times…” I shake my head and whistle through my teeth. “I gave the mashed potato one four stars, not gonna lie.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Nope, that spice was spicin’.”

Hunter loses it, bent over the counter, laughing so hard his face is turning red, and I’m laughing too because, fuck it. If I can’t share my weird kinky side with the man I feel most intimate with, then who can I?

My heart stills at that thought, and I smile, running my hand through Hunter’s hair and kissing the top of his head where it rests on his arms along the counter. His laughter settles, and he pushes up to his elbows.

“Who knew our sweet little beauty queen would grow up to be a closet freak?”

“Don’t make fun! At least I’m reading, Mr. Thirst Trap.”

He rolls his eyes, but I’m not done convincing him.

“Next month, we’re reading a lovely holiday romance about redemption and giving.”

“Claiming Santa’s Lap?” He points to my screen. “I can already tell you that one doesn’t have a happy ending.” He pushes himself up, rounding the side of the counter and closing me in against it, my back flush to his chest, his breath so hot and inviting against my skin that I lean against him, begging him to press his lips to my neck.

“Why not?” I gasp as he sucks at my skin.

His kisses grow deeper, his free hand threading through my hair and sending pleasure between my legs. He pushes my cheek down against the counter, running his hand down my body, kneading my curves and squeezing my flesh like he can’t get enough of it. His hand rides lower, until he’s brushing the back of my thighs and fingering the hem of my dress. I gasp when I feel his fingers trace the edges of my panties, but I rock into them all the same. I want nothing more right now than to submit to him. Whatever it is he wants to do to me, he can have it all, as long as he never stops his touch. His tongue swipes against my ear, teasing and biting until I’m moaning, arching my back to give him better access because God, I just need him to touch me, and then he lifts his hand and slaps it hard against my ass.

“Santa only comes for good girls.”

Then he tugs my skirt back in place and walks away.

Chapter 26

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