Page 40 of Dining for Love

In that case.

Then he stops talking, all his attention focused between my legs, and I soar into the stars. His mouth is beyond talented, and I hitch in breath after breath, trying to keep my wits about me. But it’s impossible. His tongue dips into me, as his thumb spreads me farther.

“Let go, sweetheart,” he urges.

My hands thread into his hair as he hums against my body. He clamps onto my clit, and I jerk, moaning at the sensation. When he pushes a finger into me, I cry out. “Oh God. Oh God, ohmygod Reid.” Then I’m chanting and begging him not to stop, and all I know is his mouth and his fingers.

His other hand reaches up for my breast, squeezing it almost painfully, and it’s exactly what I need. All sensation swirls and locks into motion, the sweet tightening of pleasure finally releasing and tipping me into bliss. “Reid!” I yell as the orgasm takes over, and I lose control of my body, my hips bucking into his face as I ride out the most intense orgasm of my life.

Reid takes me all the way through it, never letting up, following my lead, easing up only when I collapse into the couch cushions. I blink back into real life as his lips touch the inside of my thigh, then move up to my belly.

When he gets to my mouth, he kisses me deeply, and I taste myself on him. It’s hot. Far more erotic than I thought it would be. He pulls away and grins. “You, sweet Willa, look thoroughly debauched. It’s a great look.”

I giggle. “Thank you?” I ask. Then I yawn, and it’s loud and big. I cover my mouth. “Sorry,” I murmur.

He kisses my forehead. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He returns a few moments later with a warm, wet washcloth and wipes between my legs. It’s sweet and intimate, and I don’t know what to do.

“Relax,” he says, his voice soft and soothing.

“Mmm,” is all I can say in response. I close my eyes and listen to him talk about everything and nothing.

The next thing I know, I wake up and Midnight is mewing, wanting to be let down to go to the litter box. I sit up, more than a little discombobulated and trying to figure out what’s happened.

It’s late. Very late. I’m covered with a blanket, and still very much naked.

My cheeks flame. Oh my God. I fell asleep after Reid MacKinnon made me come.

I am, officially, the worst.

The man gives me the best oral sex of my life—not that he had a lot of competition, but still—and I fall asleep on him.

Mortified doesn’t begin to cover it.

I let Midnight out of the blanket prison she’s gotten herself into, then pad into my bedroom. I put on fresh pajamas and fall into bed, snuggling into the cool sheets in the hope they relieve my overheated body.

Chapter 13

Willa

Agatha is puttering in the backyard when I emerge from my house the next morning. Reid stands beside her, bare-chested, the morning sun glinting off his golden muscles. And God bless America, the man is in his standard tiny running shorts, as well. Since I’ve decided I’m no longer going to hide from him—there’s truly no point—I take a good look at his legs.

Huh. It turns out that I might be a leg woman. It’s taken me till I’m twenty-nine, ladies and gentlemen, but I am here to tell you that legs are where it’s at. L-E-G-S legs.

Or maybe butts. Because his is perfectly rounded like a freaking apple or something, just begging for me to bite it.

I shake myself. What the hell is wrong with me? The man gives me a life-changing orgasm and suddenly, I turn into an objectification monster.

I shrug. You know what? I’m okay with it. The man is objectively fine. Better than fine. Drop-dead gorgeous. Adonis himself. A specimen worthy of study by the finest sculptors. What’s a girl to do but enjoy it?

As if on cue, Agatha and Reid turn to me. “Good morning,Willa,” Reid says, his smile so deep his dimples pop. I could swim in those things.

My cheeks heat immediately, and my knees threaten to go weak at the sight of him. So help me if I faint. I need to eat.

Then I see the tiny bandage on his upper right shoulder, and the post-orgasmic bliss I was in gets doused. We’re talking Niagara Falls levels of cold water here, and I swallow the shock of it back. I saw it yesterday, of course, but I was too busy being all lusty and such that it didn’t really sink in. It’s not much to look at now, but it’s two distinct reminders: One, he’s got a dangerous job. Two, said dangerous job is in Miami. He is not staying here.

This exact moment in time, however, is not when I get to have a crisis—existential, physical, or otherwise. So I pull myself together and toss a smile at them that would make Goldie proud. “Good morning, Reid. Good morning, Agatha.”

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