Page 28 of Always

“What’s a gooseberry?” Skye asks.

“It’s a green berry,” her mom says.

“Green? A berry?”

“Yeah. You can still find them in stores with the canned fruit sometimes, but I haven’t seen a fresh gooseberry since I was your age, Skye.” She turns to me. “Elderberries are tart as well, but don’t you worry. I use a fair amount of sugar in this pie, plus the whipped cream will add sweetness as well.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious. Something doesn’t have to be sweet for me to like it.” I smile.

Does Skye recognize my double entendre?

She’s anything but sweet most of the time, and I wouldn’t have her any other way. I quickly maneuver my gaze to Skye, though.

I take a bite of the pie, chew, and swallow, never taking my eyes off her. “Delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Her mother grins.

It is delicious. The flavor is tart and earthy, almost like a cross between blueberries and blackberries, and Maggie’s crust is flaky and buttery.

But I wasn’t talking about the pie.

I’m thinking of Skye’s lips touching mine. The sweet taste ofher tongue entwining with mine. The tangy flavor of her pussy.

Fuck.

I’m hard.

Hard and horny as I sit at a dinner table with Skye’s mother and father. Not a good look.

I need to get out of here. How can I learn about Skye—or myself—when all my body does is respond to her? All my brain does is picture her bound and defenseless? At my mercy?

She finishes her pie and helps Maggie clear the table. And all I can think about is getting her back to my hotel room and fucking the hell out of her.

Chapter Eleven

When Skye returns to the dining room, Steve and I are walking out.

“Where are you staying?” he asks me.

“The hotel in town,” I say, grabbing my phone. “I’ll call a cab.”

“Don’t be silly.” Her dad smiles. “You can stay here. We have the room.”

“Thank you, but I don’t want to put you out.”

“If you insist,” her dad says, “but you don’t need a cab. Skye can drive you.”

I glance at her.

“Uh…yeah, sure. I’ll drive you.”

If Steve knew what my body was doing at the mention of Skye driving me to a hotel, he’d take back his words.

“Thank you, Skye,” I say. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Keys are on the hook,” her dad says.

“I’ll see if I can take Mom’s car,” she says. “I don’t like driving the truck.”

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