Page 78 of Darn Knit All

MAI

Theo

Got any great porn recommendations? I'm in the mood for something spicy tonight

Mai

I appreciate you trusting me with this new step in our friendship. Alas, no. Not really. I tend to get my jollies off while reading books. There's something about being able to connect so deeply with the characters that really gets me going

Though, now that I think about it, I don't mind a good slow and sensual massage video or two. But it has to be genuine connection couples not, wham bam thank you ma'am. I'm really picky

Theo

PORK!!

PORK RECOMMENDATIONS!!!

I BOUGHT PORK!!!!! PORK!! I WANTED SPICY PORK RECIPES!!

FUCKING AUTOCORRECT!!!

But since we've started down this track…. Have you tried erotic ASMR?

We lived to fight another day. Erike eliminated Alec and Tempest De Soto. The weight of our own survival pressed heavily on my chest, as if my heart threatened to burst through my ribcage. My fingers trembled as I clutched the sketchbook in my hand, seeking solace in the familiar pages.

Come on, Mai. Think!

After a grueling day of filming, we’d retreated to the sanctuary of our hotel room. Theo had ordered room service, and now we sat huddled over the small table, surrounded by scattered papers and design tools. I needed to rework our design to incorporate a candlestick. Its inclusion had become a crucial element that would determine if we’d make it through to the grand finale. The pressure felt suffocating, weighing on me with an intensity I couldn’t ignore.

Desperate for inspiration, I’d lit a few of the candles, hoping they might spark an idea. But alas, my mind remained blank.

Pressure is on. You need to get this right to get into the grand finale. Everything is riding on this, Mai. Everything.

“I have an idea,” Theo announced, tapping a pencil against the tabletop.

“I’m glad someone does.” I pushed away my paper, running fingers through my hair. “Shoot.”

“They’re expecting fire, right?” He dropped the pencil and ran his fingers over the top of the flame of one of the candles. “What if we did the opposite and used the wax?”

I wrinkled my nose in confusion. “Wax and clothing?”

“No.” He lifted the black candle with one hand, holding it six inches above his opposite wrist. “Wax and skin.”

He tipped the candle on its side, and I watched as a droplet of wax pooled before cascading over the edge to land on the sensitive skin of his inner wrist. He sucked in a breath, his teeth catching his bottom lip.

The interplay of the dark liquid against his light skin, the way the flame flickered and danced as more wax slowly fell to cover his arm in a patchwork pattern of droplets… It all coalesced to unlock a deep, unexpected need in me.

I want to feel that.

I licked my lips, my gaze trained on the falling wax. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Not if you do it right.”

I glanced up, meeting his dark gaze. His eyes held a new intensity, and in them. I read a hunger and need that mirrored my own desires.

Oh.

Our dynamic had changed. I could see it in his gaze, feel it in his touch. An intimacy now existed, new and fragile but building.

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