Page 163 of Wicked Fantasies

“Oh yes. That’s a biggie—discovering your mortality. I have to admit that’s probably one of the things I miss most about my younger days. In my twenties, I had all the time in the world. As I approach my forties, I realize I’ve squandered all of it.”

“I don’t know about that. I’d say you’ve put the last few hours to very good use.”

She laughed. “So I have. Well then, what are the new priorities, Mr. Mortal?”

“I’ve decided that work is just a paycheck. Don’t get me wrong. I still care about my job—hell, it’s a calling really. I love being able to help people. I just make sure that when I leave the precinct, I leave. Not just physically, but mentally as well.”

“Good for you. So am I to assume you’ve stopped the bar hopping too? Thrown the little black book away?”

He shook his head at her questions, chuckling. “Uh, Rachel. Generation alert. It’s not really called a ‘little black book’ anymore.”

“Shit,” she grimaced. “Do I want to know the new lingo for it?”

“Probably not. I referred to it as my ‘booty call list’ and the numbers were stored in my cell, not a book.”

“Gross.”

He laughed and turned the sound on the television back up. She rested her head on his shoulder and considered what he’d told her. She’d spent so much of their time together wrapped up in her own feelings of inadequacy that she’d never considered the fact he had problems too. She’d looked at him and seen a guy who had his act together, a good job, good looks, great personality. It was funny to think that inside, he was just as lost as she was.

They were simply two people looking at the world through different eyes from where they’d originally started. His entire outlook on life had been shattered by that bullet. Sort of like how her ex-husband had destroyed her self-esteem, her plans for a future she’d thought was solid. Difference was, Ethan had moved on and she hadn’t.

Autumn was right, she’d shut down after the divorce. Wasted six fucking years of her life, never taking a risk with her heart.

Now she’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire—because she was afraid she was going to fall hopelessly and madly in love with Ethan. And when that happened, she was destined to be destroyed again. Maybe this time the damage would be irrevocable.

“Ready to cry uncle?”

She jerked at his question, suddenly aware he’d turned the TV off and was looking at her.

“Sorry?” she asked, confused.

His fist engulfed his aroused cock, focusing her wavering attention very quickly.

“Yowza,” she whispered.

“There’s twenty bucks on the table. You ready to concede and get some sleep, or is the game still on?”

She grinned at his dare. “Are we still working from theKama Sutralist?”

He shrugged. “I want to take you doggy style.”

Nodding, she upped the ante. “Standing up. In the shower.”

“God, I love your style,” he muttered, rising and pulling her up.

“Really? Not too old-fashioned? Out of date?” she joked.

“You’re perfect. Now take off that stupid T-shirt before I rip it off you.”

She giggled as she started for the bathroom. Dragging the cotton material over her head, she dropped it in the hallway. Ethan was hot on her heels as she bent to turn on the water. He peeled her panties over her hips from behind and caressed her ass as she pretended to adjust the water temperature. Soon his caresses turned more daring as he dragged his fingers along her slit. She opened her legs to grant him better access, gripping the side of the tub for support.

His fingers explored her pussy, playing with the moisture he found there.

“Ever done any anal play?” he asked, drawing his fingers back to her hole.

She gasped when he wiggled the tip of one finger inside her anus.

“Jesus,” she muttered. “I’d never given a blowjob before tonight, Ethan. What the hell doyouthink?” As she spoke, she pushed back against his finger, curiosity outpacing the tiny bit of panic emerging.

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