Page 48 of The Sweet Spot

He kissed me softly, then he slipped out of me. I missed the feeling of fullness. He got up to dispose of the condom, and I lay there, unable to move as I soaked it all in. I finally pulled myself up on my elbows when he returned to bed. I watched him move, my insides ready for him already.

“You are Adonis reincarnated,” I said. “Do you know his history?” I asked as Brandon crawled into bed and pulled me close.

“Nope. But I can’t wait to hear it.”

“Adonis was a mortal who was super hot and very sought after by all the Greek goddesses. Probably some gods too. He was given to Persephone by Aphrodite when he was an infant,and it sounds like she wanted him back, but Persephone refused. Sounds like both women fell in love with him because he was gorgeous. So they took it to Zeus, and he decided that Adonis only had to spend a third of the year with each woman giving himself a third of a year to himself.”

“The dude was busy for two-thirds of the year.”

“Until he was killed by a wild boar.”

“Shitty luck,” Brandon said with a laugh.

“Aphrodite begged Zeus to bring him back to life, so Zeus compromised with her. He got to spend half the year with her, and half the year in the underworld.”

“So, a sort of happy ending?”

“Yup,” I said, snuggling into him.

“Can I tell you who you remind me of?”

“Of course,” I said, taking in the fading scent of his cologne. Maybe body spray? Whatever the hell it was, he had me wanting him more. Instead, I traced a finger along his chest to distract me.

“Her name was Norma Jean Baker.”

“Marilyn Monroe?” I asked with shock.

“Totally,” he said. “You have her figure, and it’s to die for. You have a similar face, almost the same nose, but she would have killed for your dimples. Sometimes, when you let your hair get a little wavy, I see it even more. You are the ultimate pinup girl, but I think I’m the only one who gets to see it. But can we agree that you and I have better endings than our twins?”

“Yes, definitely. Now I know what I want to do to you, but maybe we should have dinner first? What do you say?”

“All right, but you and I will be back here later. I’m not finished with you yet.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Brandon

Icouldn’t remember the last time a woman had spent the night here. Wolseley sleeping in the spare room didn’t count. Maybe it was two years ago? The last time I’d had sex was last summer. A bad decision to hook up with an ex. Lauren and I had broken up on good terms—something I seemed good at doing, unlike sticking out the relationship—and we always made the bad choice of hooking up every summer. Thankfully, it never led to anything more.

But Wolseley was different. She was like the mid-century colorful glass pieces my mother collected, except that Wolseley was the rarest of them all. One of a kind. She was colorful, kind, funny, awkward, beautiful, and had a heart of gold. And we made an amazing team. I tried not to think of the night before, the mind-blowing sex, or how she surprised me in the shower this morning with the best blow job I’d ever had. My cock twitched at the thought of it. She didn’t need to tell me, but she explained how she’d learned her technique on a trip to France to apprentice with a chef in Nice for a month. She didn’t go into all the details, but she’d hooked up with a fellowchef, and the two had experimented together. I think she thought I was judging her while I listened, but I was more enthralled by all her lived experiences, and I told her that. I wanted Wolseley to be reassured.

I closed my eyes and thought of my parents. They’d hate her. They’d hate that she wasn’t a conformist, that she had pink hair, that she didn’t eat meat or share their political views. Well, fuck them. I’d spent years being under my father’s thumb and doing what I was told. But something about Wolseley woke me up. I was done doing things to please my father. I still smiled every time I thought of the barrage of nasty texts he’d sent me when he’d heard and seen the drag show pics. But did I want to put Wolseley through even one second of my father? Maybe I could get her to go back to Minnesota for the holidays and avoid them entirely. Or maybe I’d just tell her the truth and let her make her own decision.

I wiped away thoughts of my father. He had ruined enough of my days, and today wasn’t going to be another. I had to get up early because it was a game day. Wolseley had already gotten out of bed to start breakfast, even though I protested with her to give us a few more minutes, but who was I kidding? I’d be all over her and those gorgeous breasts of hers. So she got up and left me alone, and that was a bad idea. The last thing I wanted to do was think anymore.

I wandered into the kitchen and grabbed some coffee. Wolseley was humming an unfamiliar tune, working on breakfast for me and Ryan. In the few weeks she’d been working for him, he looked great. He’d lost more weight and didn’t have that pasty, bloated look about him. More than a few times, he’d thanked me for all my help, though I really hadn’t done much.

“Morning,” I said, kissing her cheek.

“Do you think Delia is going to know I stayed here last night? I don’t want her to get the wrong impression.”

Wolseley worried about the strangest things.

“How would she know that? And why would you care what impression she gets?”

“I don’t know. My brain is in overdrive. I’m already on my third cup of coffee.”

I raised a brow. “That makes sense, then.”

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