Page 79 of The Felicity Theory (The Laws of Love 4)

Oliver ordered a dozen. Felicity kept her mouth pinned into a line, but her face brightened when two champagne flutes appeared.

“Take a leaf out of your own book—be daring,” Oliver cajoled as a dozen oysters arrived with their champagne.

“Even the sight of them turns my stomach.”

“Watch how I do it.” He squeezed on lemon, loosened the oyster with his fork, then taking the shell, let it slide into his mouth. He sensed her eyes on him, watching his every move, and when he glanced at her, she licked her lips.

“Maybe I canslightlyget the appeal.”

He loosened another and held the shell up.

She screwed up her eyes. “I can’t look.”

“Don’t, then. Close your eyes. Start by smelling it.” He held it under her nose, delighting in the way her nostrils quivered.

“It smells… of the sea.”

“Yes. Now taste it.”

She nipped at it with her lips. He withdrew it, and she circled her tongue around her mouth, tasting, eyes still closed. And he imagined her opening and taking his cock like that and it was probably the most sensual eating experience he had ever been party to.

Finally, she took it fully into her mouth. Her eyes opened with surprise. “Oh, it tastes… of the sea too.” She glanced upwards, contemplating. “It’s—okay.”

“More than okay?”

“Quite palatable for a piece of raw slime. Can’t you eat them cooked?”

“You can. Kilpatrick, with bacon and Worcestershire sauce.”

“I think I’d prefer that.”

Which set him thinking that when they were in Sydney, he’d take her to his favourite place for oysters, buy her half a dozen Kilpatrick and he’d go natural. His gut suddenly tightened. Thinking like this had too many implications attached. But goddamn it, he wasn’t going to let the future sit like an ugly little demon on his shoulder and rob him of this moment.

He cocked his head. “Another?”

She cast him a glance under her lashes. “Only because you asked nicely.”

After that they fed each other in turns. Chased the oysters down with sips of champagne.

As they walked back to the van afterwards, their arms bumping, Oliver realised that this was the happiest he’d been in months…

Maybe even years.

* * *

Streaky Bay turnedout to be a picturesque little town with an expanse of white beach and an imposing colonial pub in the main street.

As they drove into town Felicity realised she didn’t want to be back in a town because that would mean they were coming back to real life, and real life meantresponsibility.At least for Oliver. Because while she had two blissful months of holiday ahead, she knew Oliver had an apartment to get ready to sell and a book to finish writing, and that he’d realise he was still—ofcourse––grieving the end of a major relationship. And that she had been a bit of fun along the way.

The. End.

The thought stabbed her like Scarlet on a really bad day, in the worst knife-twisting kind of way. Except this stab was more in the region of her heart, and that was very bad news indeed.

Except then Oliver said, with his thumb rubbing at that beautiful full lower lip and his eyes not quite meeting hers, “I wonder where the pharmacy is.” And her heart jumped right back into the arena without a single thought for its safety.

“Oh,” she replied innocently. “Have you got a headache?”

“I have an ache… somewhere.” The sultry light in those sinfully dark eyes made her forget words like logical and sensible. “Could I perhaps help you to relieve it, sir?”

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