Page 54 of Wanted

“I would do anything to make you happy,” he continues. “I know you want to conquer the world on your own. But I will always do everything in my power to help you, Stella. It would be very easy for me to bathe you in luxuries, but I know you want more than that, I respect and admire your effort. As the man who wants to walk by your side, I just hope to be the one by your side when you reach the top.”

Swoon!

“Lionel,” I mumble, my throat has closed up, he’s still there in the same place, looking at me expectantly. Some strands of his straight hair fall on his forehead, the lion and his mane, the effect is devastating.

I hold out my hand, seeking contact. Right now I need to feel him close, his soul flying with mine. The distance is getting shorter every day, the moment when we cross the Mississippi is coming.

I know he has made it his top priority.

“What do you say, Hvezda? Shall we call Braxton?”

“What does that mean?” I want to know.

Lionel adjusts himself in the seat to take out his phone from the side pocket of his shorts.

“Means you’re going to have your website up and running.”

Very funny, Mr. Kral, very funny.

I roll my eyes before answering him. “What does hvezda mean, you have called me that several times?”

“Star in Czech,” he replies. “My grandparents were immigrants. My father spoke the language fluently, and although due to my limitations I could never learn it, I do know a few phrases and words. Your name also means star.”

“Oh Lionel, what am I going to do with you?”

“Be happy,” he concludes before I make my way around the counter and kiss him gently on the lips.

These last few days we have been like two horny teenagers, touching each other over our clothes. What was supposed to be a short kiss turned into a tangle of hands looking for bare skin. His fingers undo the knot of the apron at my back, then pull it off over my head, his lips detaching from mine just long enough for the fabric to fly off.

Someone has poured hot oil all over my skin, I’m burning, which reminds me…

“Lionel,” I mumble as I search for air.

“Yes?” he replies, his lips tracing a downward path down my chin.

“Lionel, my mixtures.”

There it is, the proverbial bucket of cold water falling on us, tearing us apart.

I hear him growl something that sounded like, “You’re such a tease,” as I run to see what happened to what I had so carefully mixed.

“You’re lucky your head is still in place because they’ve only just started to cool down,” I accused, pointing a finger at him.

“Okay, Red Queen,” he teases. “Put me to work, so I can have you all to myself quicker.”

We don’t waste time. Acting fast, we pour the mixtures into the molds. I can do it by myself, but with his help it makes it really quick.

“Push slowly but firmly back there,” I instruct him. Lionel is behind me helping with the longest circular mold, which is tricky.

Lionel holds the wooden tube into which I slowly pour the mixture, taking care there are no bubbles. I like my soaps smooth, showcasing the purity of the ingredients, after all, they are organic and of the highest quality.

“And I thought that the sweet spot for kinky stuff was after the first year of marriage. You surprise me, Stella.”

His body is glued to mine, so much so that I swear he can feel how fast my heart beats.

God, who turned off the air conditioning in the house, I don’t remember it being so hot.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” I change the subject to something easier to handle.

---