Page 95 of Crave Me

My hands slide up to knead her breasts. I nibble her ear. “If this is my punishment, I should break the rules more often,” I murmur.

I expect her to laugh. Instead she slips off me, turning to lay her chest against mine. “Please don’t,” she says, her features riddled with sadness in spite of the soft smile she shares. “Evan, you work too hard. This, you and me,” she adds, skimming my chest with her fingertips. “This is real life. As much as I want you to succeed, I don’t want you to forget about me or what’s most important.”

“You are my life,” I reply, frowning. “I could never forget you.”

Her stare examines my face, as if she is unsure whether to believe me. “I don’t want you to work this weekend.” She silences me with a kiss before I can argue. “I want you to do anything but—read for pleasure, watch a movie, hell, take a bath. But no working, okay? I want you to make it just about you enjoying life.”

“What do call this?” I challenge.

“You enjoying sex,” she replies with one of her more impish smiles. “And me enjoying it right along with you.”

She sits up and I think she’s leaving, so I band my arms around her waist. “Where are you going? You have to keep punishing me for violating Naked Saturday.”

“Sunday.”

“Very well, both,” I say, laughing along with her.

“You’re so damn cute,” she says, gathering her hair and leaning in to kiss me. As she pulls away, her dark strands fan around us. “I have to pick up the food I ordered for brunch tomorrow. Everyone is coming here, and then we’re all going to the Phils’ game.”

“They’re coming here, to our home?”

A smile forms, to match hers. This is a tremendous step for Wren. In inviting her family here, she’s accepting my home as hers. It’s been almost three months since she moved in. At first she appeared out of sorts. I asked Sofia to take her shopping to help her decorate the house and make it more hers. Now, instead of décor primarily composed of gray, black, and white, the teal, deep orange, and gold accents compliment the new multi-colored rugs and window dressings, a reflection of Wren’s vibrant spirit and Sofia’s ability to bring it forward.

Yet what ultimately caused Wren to embrace the house is the security it represents. I’ve forced Bryant out of her life, blocking any calls to her desk with careful screening and assigning my car service to drive her home when I work late.

“Yup, they’re all coming,” she says. “Including, Teo and his family, his sister Lety and her fiancée Brody. Which is why I had to order so much food. I won’t learn to cook anything decent between now and then, especially for all the mouths we have to feed.”

“That is a large number of people,” I agree, my hands gliding to her lower back and further yet. “Perhaps I should prepare something as well?”

“No, you already do enough. Besides, if my brothers find out you cooked, they’re going to make you get a tattoo on your face, ride a bull, wrestle an alligator, or some other shit so they don’t revoke your man card. This way everyone eats, everyone is happy, and no one gets inked—unless you want ‘Wren O’Brien is hot and rocks my world’, scribbled on your ass. If so, I’m cool with that. I’ll get one that matches.”

“And what will yours say?” I ask.

“‘Damn right’ with an arrow pointing,” she says. “What else would it say?”

I laugh, sweeping my lips along her neck. She groans and pulls away. “Babe, I have to get to the caterer before they close.”

“Very well,” I grumble, causing her to giggle.

I loosen my hold, allowing her to stand and rising slowly. She seems in a rush and is already dressed by the time I pull up my trousers.

“Where are you going?” she asks, pausing as she finishes applying her lipstick.

I slip my arms through my white dress shirt. “With you,” I reply.

“No way. There’s only one thing I want you to do while I’m gone and that’s relax.” She stops in front of me, her nymph’s demeanor returning as her stare passes along my torso. “Okay, maybe one more thing.”

She crouches in front of me, parting the sides of my shirt and swiping her lipstick across my skin. “Uh, uh, uh,” she says when I try to see what she’s doing. “No peeking until I’m done.”

The muscles along my chest twitch as she passes the lipstick in slick, smooth motions. She falls to her knees, focusing hard on her task as she moves to my stomach.

I’m trying not to think about how she’s inches from my groin, yet with her so close and in this position, it’s a challenge.

I gather her hair, whispering low. “What are you up to?”

“Just letting you know what to do while I’m gone.”

Her voice trails as I harden and she sighs with longing.

---