Page 54 of Out of Bounds
I remember.
And now I know what it’s like to be his.
ChapterEighteen
Ethan
As I stare back at mywifewho looks equally surprised and relieved to see me, the two things I’ve had on my mind come back to me.
The first is I remember everything. Every little thing in detail of our drunken sexcapades and the adventures that transpired as a result. The memories came back within an hour after I put her on the plane.
The second thing stems from the first. I figured if I remembered and we both drank the same as each other, chances are she remembered too. The memory did something more to me I never expected, and I didn’t know how she was going to react when she next saw me.
“You’re here,” she mutters.
That voice. It drifts over me, speaking to my inner desire to forget logic again and indulge on the southern belle.
“Of course. I told you I’d come. Gonna let me in?” I raise a brow.
“Of course.”
She steps aside and I walk in. This is the first time I’ve been inside her home.
The first thing I notice is the place looks and smells like her. Like roses and honey.
The décor from what I can see is every bit her too. Her walls are wallpapered in a soft silky cream and her lightings are gold. The floor is wooden and polished, and I can see wooden chairs around the breakfast table in the kitchen.
“Do you want some coffee?” she asks closing the door behind her.
Coffee. It’s a simple question. I had a horrible flight and I had to wait for four hours to get said flight. I haven’t eaten properly since the day before last so I should drink some coffee. Why I’m stalling is I don’t know if it’s wise for me to be here longer than necessary when I myself am not sure how to act around her.
I take her in dressed in a silky pair of pink pajama bottoms and a white camisole top. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she looks like she did in school.
She bites on her bottom lip, and I remember how plump and delicious those lips feel in my mouth and around my cock.
“Yes.” I hear myself say and I’m not sure if I would have had the will power to say anything other than that.
“Cool, I’ll make you some.”
My eyes automatically glue to her ass when she turns and leads me into the kitchen where I’m greeted with the aroma of cookies, and I think banana bread.
There’s a loaf that looks like it could be that on the table.
“Shelby made me breakfast,” she explains. “She has a real sweet tooth like me.”
“I saw her in the parking lot.” Shelby didn’t see me, or if she did, she played the good actress.
“I’m still not sure if you have anything with sugar or cake, but if you want, I could cut you a slice.” Her cheeks fill with color, and I narrow my eyes as I wonder if she remembers what she said to me as she licked my abs.
I’ve never had a woman practically devour me the way she did and it’s not something I’m likely to forget.
I could say the best sugary thing I’ve had is her and she was sweeter than the honey I’ve decided to compare her to, but I hold back. There are serious things to talk about.
“I’d love a slice. I do have sugar. Not a lot but I like a little sugar from time to time.” Which is exactly what I said to her on our fateful night.
The enhanced color of her cheeks and the flush that races down her neck suggests she does remember. Now I’m wondering what she’ll say when I ask her if she does.
“Okay.” She nods and I sit, taking off my jacket.
