Page 57 of Wanted

His hand goes down my back, something deep inside me vibrates to feel his need, his desire. Oh God, soon one of us will end up crossing the Mississippi and I’m afraid it’s going to be me.

“Stella,” Lionel has only said my name, but it feels like he has said something more seductive, let’s take this party upstairs. “Hvezda, there is so much I want to tell you, so much I want to do to you.”

His fingers tighten on my behind, while he brushes his nose down my face, then down to my neck.

“What are you waiting for, Big Bad Wolf?”

“This savage is trying to be a gentleman,” he replies, his lips on my skin, marking my skin with his heat. “Dinner and wine, remember?”

“Did this toad really become my charming prince?”

A laugh echoes in his chest, vibrating mine as well. “No—a lion, the king of the jungle. But keep in mind, Stella, however tame he is, the lion will always be wild.”

Now I’m the one who laughs. “Ooh, I’m so scared.”

Of course not, what I want is for dinner to end soon so we can move this party upstairs.

“We should eat, I’m hungry.” And the tone of his voice makes it clear to me he isn’t precisely talking about the food, whatever it is he made.

God have mercy on me.

“Feed me then.”

“As the lady wishes.”

“You didn’t lie, dinner in a box,” I tell him when I see what’s sitting on the blanket, the cardboard square in front of us that holds our meal. Lionel is standing behind me, his arms around my waist. I drop my head onto his shoulder, delighted to smell the scent of his cologne. I want to give in to the mystery and him. My favorite combination.

Dreaming is free… yeah, I know the hustle is sold separately. And it’s becoming harder to fight as my feelings get deeper for him.

His fingers entwine with mine as we walk close together, our shoulders brushing. A soft cool breeze is blowing, but I don’t feel it, it’s warm and cozy in between his arms.

“One of my talents is skillfully pressing numbers on the phone and ordering takeout,” he whispers in my ear. “And movie night is not complete without pizza and beers.”

Netflix and chill, right? That means sex in the middle of the movie, without worrying about the ending.

I already want him to do the other things his fingers are skillfully good at. His hands are on my belly, and even though there are layers of clothing separating us, my skin is crying out for his touch.

Taking our relationship slowly has been truly overrated.

What if his hand sneaks up my shirt?

Or down the waistband of my skirt?

“Shall we?”

“How about we have dessert first?” A girl has to do what she has to do.

“First things, first.” Yes, that is what his voice says, but his lips are telling a different story.

“You said we were creating new traditions in our home.” Ha, I’m using his words against him.

Well done, Stella.

“Yes, Friday is movie night on our patio.”

“Does the story have a happy ending?” I ask, feeling short of breath.

“Well, it depends on us, baby.”

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