Page 86 of Fractured
I smirked, “A few sips of that stuff, you’ll be on your ass.”
She took one more little sip and then handed the jar back to me.
I took a few sips as well, loving the softness on the back end, then put the lid back on it and put it back in the fridge.
“Buddy of mine, Larson? He makes it.”
“Have you asked him to make anything with cherries?” she asked.
I shook my head then scoffed, “You don’t ask Larson to do anything. He feels it, he’ll make it.”
She nodded, then frowned, “Why is he like that?”
I shook my head, “No fucking clue. Doubt that anyone can explain why he is the way he is.”
We were sitting on the couch watching her favorite movie when I felt her eyes on me, while the festival scene was playing, when she asked, “So what was that fantasy you were thinking of?”
I winked, then I told her.
She tilted her head to the side and turned her head to look back at the movie.
But you can bet her glorious ass that I didn’t miss the way her eyes had flared with heat.
Oh. Fuck. Yeah.
***
I came home and felt the blood in my body rush into my cock.
Because standing there at the stove in nothing but a pair of four-inch peep-toe black kitten heels was my woman.
I started stripping and then headed to her.
Her eyes were on my body, my eyes were on hers.
I cupped the side of her neck and said, “You know, I’m pushing forty. Don’t want me to keel over, shouldn’t do this.”
She laughed in my face, “Dominik, you are the most in shape forty-year-old man I have ever met. Shut the fuck up and fuck me.”
I growled, “Yes, fucking ma’am.”
‘The man who says his wife can’t take a joke, forgets that she took him.’
– Oscar Wilde.
Chapter 12
Talia
“You know what’s stupid?” Dominik asked.
I lifted a brow as I looked over at him, “What’s that?”
“The fact that I own this, you’re here more than we are at your place, and you're paying rent. That’s stupid.”
I shrugged, “Doesn’t matter to me.”
He gaped, “What the fuck do you mean?”
