Page 82 of Buckled in Barbwire

“Took too long,” he grumbles as I adjust my seat on him.

“Uh, well… thanks for the lift.” The skirt of my dress keeps me modest, but the hardness prodding between my legs is indecent. “This is… interesting?”

That unsatisfied hunger ignites his gaze into green flames. “This what you had in mind?”

I wiggle to test our stability. That earns me a choked groan and his hands clench into fists. The restraint is admirable, but I want him to crumble. My temptation bumps into his dick again and I’m rewarded with a grunt.

“Fuck.” Strain flexes his neck as he denies himself more friction. “What do you want from me, wife?”

That’s an excellent question. I hit pause while deciding how far this should go. It’s doubtful that he’ll take anything from me unless I initiate. He already set the scene to get me yearning for him. My husband wants me eager and willing.

The honor of the first move across the line belongs to me. It’s difficult to suggest being intimate, especially after the rocky day we’ve had. I probably shouldn’t. Once I do, there’s no taking the words back. Instead, I should harness the desire and race out of here. Then I can unleash the tension in private.

Brody lied and deceived me. But this can be about just sex. Why can’t we make each other feel good for a change? Just for a little while. Not sure who I’m trying to convince. He’s admitted there’s more between us, that he’s falling for me. Those vulnerable confessions could be another betrayal. It’s wasted energy considering I’m already sprawled across his lap, but I can protect my heart.

We can go slow and see what happens. I lift my palm to trace the edge of his jaw, but halt with my courage suspended in midair. He took the reins earlier and put my hand on him. That doesn’t mean I’m granted free roam.

“Touch me,” he urges.

Heat sizzles through my veins when I do just that. Hiscoarse stubble prickles my skin when he nuzzles me. A soft exhale breezes from him and his eyelids get heavy. It’s such a tender display. I want more, lifting my other palm to drift along his chest. He leans against me while I stroke up his nape and into his hair. The quiet hum that escapes him sounds like relief. It sparks my curiosity.

“When was the last time you let a woman—?”

He silences me with a kiss. “It’s just you for me, Twinkles.”

A thrill shoots up my spine at his sincere tone. Our eyes lock like many times before. There’s nothing blocking me from searching for more secrets. All I find is his vow to try. That’s enough for now.

Brody’s voice is fresh gravel when he asks, “Do you still see the real me?”

My nod is absolute. “I think you like me, husband.”

He smiles into my hand that’s cupping his face. “Told you as much.”

“Maybe I like you too,” I admit on a rushed breath.

“Does that mean I’m not rotten to the core?”

My lips curve into an easy grin. “Desperate for compliments?”

“From you? Always.” His thumb brushes along the smattering of freckles on my nose. “You’re so beautiful.”

“And you’re laying it on thick.” I shift against him to remind myself where we stand… or sit. This isn’t about unconditional devotion unless we’re discussing a simultaneous climax.

He grips a handful of my skirt, still not asserting much pressure in any particular direction. “What do you need?”

I swallow his minty taste when he exhales. “I’m not sure.”

His lips ghost along the corner of mine. “You are. Tell me.”

“Can enemies exchange benefits?” I finally decide to voice that question aloud.

“Is that what we are?”

My shoulders lift and drop, pushing me flush against him. “It’s a bit blurry. We’re definitely not lovers.”

“Yet,” he amends.

“Only if there are no expectations or strings attached. I don’t need more obligations from you.”

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