Page 140 of The Tryst

First, I turn his Future Think podcast all the way off. There’s something I’ve wanted to ask him. “Do you still want to learn the tango?”

He laughs. “Are you offering me a refund on the tango refund?”

I nod. “It’d be fun. You and me. We could take dancing lessons.”

He pulls me close. “I’ve always liked dancing with you, beautiful.”

I snuggle next to him. “Good. Because I took the liberty of signing us up.”

That earns me another laugh. “Well, aren’t you bossy?”

Speaking of bossy…

“The whole evening kind of got me in the mood,” I whisper, wriggling a little against him.

“That so?”

“Just a little.”

The corner of his lips curves up. “Only a little?”

I rock my hips into his side. “Maybe more than a little.”

His smile is dirty. His eyes flicker with filthy delight. “Let me get this right. While you were out with your friends, celebrating your brand-new job, enjoying mojitos and conversation, you were imagining seducing me?” He trails a hand down my neck, curving it over my shoulder.

“Yes,” I answer on a tremble.

Pushing onto an elbow, he dips his face to my throat, presses a possessive kiss there. “Good. Because there’s something I’ve wanted to do to you for a long time.”

That excites me even more. “What is it?”

He pulls back then runs a hand down my chest, over one breast, traveling to my belly. “Do you have any idea how hard it wasnotto think about fucking you every time you came over before?”

Mmm. I like where this is going. “I don’t have any idea,” I say, innocently. “Why don’t you tell me?”

He growls. “No. Why don’t I show you what I was thinking about all those times you were on my couch, in my living room, at my goddamn door?”

Oh, hello. Bossy Nick is in the house, and I am here for it.

“Show me.”

50

NATURAL ART

Nick

I show her all right.

She’s bent over the couch, and I’m balls deep in my woman. But I’m not pounding her. I’m taking it torturously, exquisitely slow.

I’m admiring the fuck out of all these views. The view of her long back. Her beautiful skin. Her silky hair.

“The day I moved in here,” I tell her through tight teeth, “I fought off images of this.”

A deep thrust from me. A shudder from her.

“Were you successful?” she asks, like she doesn’t know the goddamn answer.

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