Page 71 of Forget Me Twice

Who are you these days, baby girl?

I want to know everything about her. I want to strip her down to the bones and learn every notch and every ligament with my tongue. I want to bury my fingers and my cock so far inside she’ll need an exorcism to get rid of me.

For the moment, at least, she’s trapped here with me. She can’t dodge me—or the question that’s been burning me up inside since the day we followed her.

I’m diving in headfirst and grilling her before I can stop to think better of it. “Who’s the guy from the warehouse?”

The question being out there sends a pulse of something bitter roiling through my chest and stomach.

Are they together? Is he special to her?

My right leg is so jittery I can feel my thigh quaking.

She tosses me an assessing side glance, then focuses back on the road. There’s a secret sort of smile on her face. I don’t like that she’s smiling at the same time that she’s thinking about him.

It makes me feel a little homicidal.

Okay, maybe a lot.

“You can call him Dionysus. I wasn’t kidding when I said he’d ruin you. He lives for that shit.” There’s a pause. “But now I’ve gotten a better vibe check, I’m thinking you’d probably both give as good as you’d get,” she muses with a low laugh.

Well,fuck!

Joking to her about sharing with him hadn’t stopped my chest from feeling tense and aching with all kinds of acidic, jealous feelings. They had only gotten worse the longer the week went on.

Not to mention, knowing she was hooking up with Leo fucking Baker? She’s honestly lucky there wasn’t a higher body count this past weekend.

But with those few choice words, the murderous thoughts are quickly being replaced by a slew of pants-tighteninghot-blond-guy-plus-dream-girlménage fantasies instead.

Goddamn.

Now all I can think about is Sabine at the Diner talking about spit-roasting, and I’m wondering what it’s going to take to get the two of them to make a meal out ofmesome time.

I’ve always wanted to go to Paris.

I groan quietly at the image of making an Eiffel Tower with this Dionysus and Sabine, and reach down to squeeze my hard-on. The flimsy material does nothing to hide it either. “Drive faster, Wifey. I’m begging you.”

Sabine snorts, but it sounds light. Nothing like the cool, mocking disdain we’ve mostly heard since she got here. “Don’t start the party without me, Hermes,” she snarks, and presses harder on the gas.

My cock pulses in response.

As soon as she pulls us into the curb near the Pier, I’m up and out of the car, backpack in hand. Her amused laughter follows as she locks up the car, but I’m too busy tipping my head to the sky and pulling in a lungful of the sea air.

It helps ease the tightness under my ribs, but my heart rate is still ratcheted right up.

Luckily I have the solution for that problem.

As she sidles up behind me, I catch a soft whiff of sandalwood, picked up and carried by the soft breeze that gusts over us. I suck it in, letting it settle me. Then, as I did back in the hallway, I grab her hand and tug her along.

Christ, I could get high off just this small amount of skin-to-skin with her. Actually fucking her is going to kill me.

I’m not heading for the boardwalk though, instead pulling her impatiently towards the sandy stretch of beach before us. When she sees where I’m headed, she yanks sharply against my firm grip. “Wait, Hermes, pump the brakes,” she says, like I’m actually going to slow down. I’m dying of starvation and am this close to a Sabine-flavored all-you-can-eat buffet.

Wait.Wait.Is this her second guessing coming with me?

Within seconds, my enthusiasm is draining away. My vision tunnels and I can hear the taunting rush of blood pounding in my ears.

Why would she want to stay? Of course she’s going to leave you here.

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