Page 41 of Passed Ball

"Yeah. Don't overthink it, just write down what you want."

Chapter 20

Vivienne

"Soon enough," I rant under my breath, my forehead falling to the desk in front of me with a thump. "Make me a list."

What the hell was I thinking? What the hell washethinking? He really wants me to write out all the ways I want him to make me come? The other night could have been luck. There's no guarantee that he can do it again.

Chemistry can fizzle--

Who am I kidding? Nothing is going to fizzle. He lit a fire inside me and I don't think anything can put it out.

But a list. I can't do that. "Can I?"

I must look unhinged, talking to myself alone in my office.

"Are we interrupting something?" Indie asks, stepping into my doorway.

Heat rushes to my cheeks.

Jesus, Vi. Get a grip.

And I almost do . . . until Lara pokes her head in.

"You're as red as a tomato."

I wave them in wordlessly. The list has me so caught up that I lost track of time before our meeting. That's not my style.

And we've worked together long enough for them to recognize when something's seriously off. I'm always composed, professional--hell, even when I'm taking arrogant Bandits down a peg, I do it with poise. That version of me is nowhere to be found right now.

Lara pulls the door closed behind the two of them.

Xavier's back on the road and I've had the condo to myself for days with plenty of time to write the list, but I haven't been able to bring myself to do it. Lara and Indie exchange matching looks of concern as they watch me stand from my desk and pace to the window. I'm not ashamed of what Xavier and I are doing, but telling them about our agreement feels very personal. Harlowe is the only person I'd trust with this, but she's unreachable because she's in the backcountry for training.

I bite my thumbnail, turn away from their amused faces, and take another lap across my office.

"Dean's going to be really annoyed when he gets home from New York and finds out he has to replace this carpet," Lara teases.

"You guys are going to think I'm crazy," I huff, sounding as resigned as I feel.

"I doubt that," Lara says.

"Remember the teensy problem that we talked about at the gala?" I start, my stomach flipping anxiously.

"The one where no one has ever given you an orgasm." Indie lays it out there, not an ounce of hesitation.

I drop back into the desk chair, looking anywhere but at the two women sitting across from me. "That's the one."

"Oh, honey," Lara says sweetly. This is new information for her. She was at the gala, but seated at her father's table and I'm sure the mayor and his guests weren't talking about the wonders of athlete-induced orgasms.

"Xavier offered to help me."

When neither of them speaks, I lift my head from the pen I'm playing with. Indie sits there, gaping at me, and Lara has one perfect eyebrow arched.

"I'm going to need one of you to say something."

It's Indie that speaks first. "I'm so damn proud of you."

---