Page 84 of Sire
“Okay, then.” I march toward our coffee maker. “Let’s drink some java, open that damn letter, read it, talk about it,shower, try a sixty-nine tonight, get married tomorrow, finally fuck, and move on. Deal?”
Reluctantly, he chuckles. “You and your deals.”
“Take it or leave it.”
I fill the carafe at our kitchen sink, totally bluffing, of course. I’ll do anything with Sire at any moment. Especially with these huge diamonds sparkling on my finger.
Every time I think about his perfect proposal, I get those happy tears.
He starts ripping the envelope open but stays devilishly focused on me. “I’ll take your deal but with a modified sixty-nine.”
“Modified?”
He smirks. “I’m six five and my beautiful wife will be five feet. So, yes, we’ll always have to beverycreative.”
“You mean, I’ll be your shorty and you’re my zaddy?”
He draws up, standing even taller. “You’re what and your what?”
“A shorty is a pretty young woman, and a zaddy is a hot, older man.”
“As long as you’re my hot-ass wife for life,” he tsks, “call me whatever you want.”
“Deal.” I turn to fill the machine. “And when you say, ‘very creative,’ can it involve sex swings and benches? Oh, and vibrators, toys, and cute anal plugs like I saw at the club? Lucy, the bartender, highly recommended the store, Delta’s. She said they have the best lube for my first time with you, and?—”
I turn back, but he’s not paying attention. His face is stone, his eyes fixed on the piece of paper.
I press the BREW button, giving him a minute before I softly probe, “Sire? What does it say?”
It makes him seethe, “He wants to know my blood type.”
“What? Why?”
He tosses the letter on the counter. “The only reasons I can think of are for a blood donation, an organ transplant, or?—”
“Or for pregnancy and paternity.”
“How’d you know that?”
I shrug. “The only thing I know about my parents is that one probably had anABblood type because I’mABnegative, and it’s the rarest type. If I ever need blood, I’m screwed. It’s hard to find my match.”
He walks my way, pulling me into his arms. “I’mOnegative, a universal donor.I’myour match.”
“Just another sign I was right about us.” I palm his chest. “Why does he want to know your blood type?”
“Knowing him? Probably for paternity. To see if I’m really his heir, or some shit like that.” He lifts me, setting me on the countertop before him. “But fuck him right now. He’s not ruining tonight, tomorrow, or our lives. Deal?”
I smile as his sexy lips near mine. “Deal.”
Sire always opens me with his kiss. He starts soft and slow, but deepens his penetration, his tongue dancing with mine. His breath pulls me under with our moans, and I’m found, I’m unfurling. A heavy throb aches between my legs, opening my world and thighs to him.
I’m sitting tall enough to sink my hands into his hair, and pull hard, needing more of him, but he lifts his lips from mine, panting, “Birth control?”
“I’m on it.” My eyes drift open to find his, surprised. “I had an IUD put in when I turned seventeen. It’s not that I wanted to have sex then. I didn’t. But I wanted protection in case I had no choices and a man ra?—”
“God, Wren.” He nuzzles my forehead. “God, I’m so thankful you’re safe with me now.”
“Me, too.”
