Page 159 of The Neighbor Wager

She sighs with need, like she can’t bear another moment without our bodies joined.

It’s the same for me. I need her here. I need this.

Deanna arches her back. “Please.” The word hovers in the air, uncertainly, unsure if she wants to stay there forever or flee right away.

It’s so rare on her lips and so right at the same time.

She doesn’t offer it to anyone else. Only me.

I bring my hands to her hips, position our bodies, slide into her with one swift motion.

This time, I slip my hand under her pelvis. I bring my thumb to her clit and rub her with slow circles as I drive into her.

My eyes flutter closed.

My body takes over.

I move in time with her, guiding her, feeling her, embracing every inch of her softness.

She comes first, groaning my name, pulsing around me, pulling me closer and deeper.

Her body trying to take mine.

All of her grasping for all of me.

The intensity of it undoes me. Pleasure spreads through my body as I spill inside her. All that soft sweetness. All the sweat and groans and need.

After I spill every drop, I pull back, take care of the condom, undo the chain holding the sides of the cuffs together.

Deanna rolls onto her back and looks up at me with hazy eyes. “Fuck.”

“Did I leave you speechless?”

“Fuck is speech.”

My lips curl into a smile. “Deanna Huntington, the most capable woman in the world, is totally at my mercy.”

“Wastotally at your mercy.” She smiles back, all defiance and challenge, the Deanna I know everywhere else. “Maybe she will be if you do it again. But right now?” She positions her arms in a shrug.Who knows?

“Is that a dare, Dee?”

“I remember this guy telling me I don’t need to make everything a dare or a challenge or a bet. I can just ask for something. Get it.”

“Are you asking?”

“Oh no. It’s a dare. He was right. I can ask for something and trust someone to give it to me. But a dare is more fun. Don’t you think?”

Chapter Thirty-Three

River

After we catch our breath and take turns in the shower, we watch an old Katharine Hepburn movie. Deanna spends the entire film calling out every instance in which Katharine Hepburn behaves unlike her.

When we finish, she shakes her head. “How could you think we’re similar? We’re not similar at all. Sure, we’re both tall and elegant, and we have strong faces and look fantastic in suits. But that’s where it ends.”

“What about the grace and power?”

“Okay, that, too. But, come on, I would never take back my ex. I don’t care if he’s Cary Grant. He’s mean to her. Why does she take that? Probably ’cause all the writers were men.”

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