Total pages in book: 262
Estimated words: 268603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1343(@200wpm)___ 1074(@250wpm)___ 895(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 268603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1343(@200wpm)___ 1074(@250wpm)___ 895(@300wpm)
Oh, baby.
“And your point is?” Her voice is hoarse.
“My point is…it’s not far from here”—I glide my fingers over her panties to the edge and slip my index finger around the fabric so we’re skin on skin—“to here. And then…to here.” As we gaze at each other, I slide my finger inside her.
She’s warm and wet around me, and she closes her eyes as she groans.
“This is mine.” I drip the words into her ear and, closing my eyes, slowly move my finger in and out of her. “I don’t want anyone else to see this.”
She starts to pant, and I open my eyes to watch as I pleasure her. “So be a good girl and don’t bend down, and you should be fine.”
“You approve?” she breathes.
“No, but I’m not going to stop you from wearing it. You look stunning, Anastasia.”
Enough.
I want to fuck her. But we don’t have time. And as much as I want to smudge her makeup, I’m sure she won’t appreciate it. Slowly, I withdraw my hand, and move so I’m in front of her. Gently I trace her bottom lip with the slick tip of my index finger. She puckers her scarlet lips to kiss it.
The contact echoes in my groin.
I grin. A wicked grin.
This is what I love about my girl.
She does not back down from a challenge.
I slip my finger in my mouth.
She tastes mighty fine. I lick my lips and Ana flushes.
Yes. There she is. My girl.
Grinning, I take her hand. “Come.”
Hand in hand, we head downstairs to join our guests, and I’m not immune to the admiring looks they all give my wife.
“Ana! You look like a million dollars,” Mia gushes, giving her a hug.
I release Ana and open the closet door. “Whose coat is this?” I ask, holding up a trench coat.
“Mine,” Mia says.
“Were you going to wear it?”
“Not tonight.”
“Good. Can I borrow it?”
“It’ll be a bit small for you,” Mia quips.
Ignoring her, I hold up the coat for Ana. She rolls her eyes, but acquiesces and lets me slip it on her.
Good.
She might be cold later.
And no one will see her ass.
The food at Montagna is excellent, as is—to my surprise—the conversation. It must be the company. I’ve discovered that I love watching my wife interact with people; she’s charming, funny, and smart. Well, I knew that before I married her, but today her shyness is in check and she’s making it look easy. I wonder if it’s the amount of alcohol she’s consumed that’s making her more gregarious, but right now I don’t care. I could watch her all day. She is bewitching and she offers me hope for our future together. We could do this more often: bring friends here, entertain them, enjoy time with them. I never thought that would be my thing, but maybe it is.
I’m warming more and more to Ethan. He’s passionate about his academic field and excited to be joining the postgraduate psychology program at Seattle U. “Man, you know a lot about this shit,” he says as we await dessert.
I chuckle. “I should. I’ve seen enough shrinks.”
He frowns as if he doesn’t quite believe me. “Really?”
You have no idea.
Elliot stands suddenly, his chair scraping across the floor, the noise ringing over the general level of chatter. We all turn to look at him. He’s gazing down at Kate, and she’s gazing up at him as if he’s grown an extra head. Elliot drops to one knee.
Oh, fuck.
Dude.
Here?
He takes her hand, and I think he has the attention of the entire restaurant. “My beautiful Kate, I love you. Your grace, your beauty, and your fiery spirit have no equal, and you have captured my heart. Spend your life with me. Marry me.”
There’s a collective intake of breath. Ana grabs my hand, and all eyes turn to Kavanagh, who just gapes at Elliot in shock. A tear trickles down her cheek and she splays her hand on her chest, as if she’s trying to contain her emotion. Finally, she smiles. “Yes,” she whispers.
The patrons in the place erupt with cheers, applause, catcalls. This is so Elliot—in a crowded restaurant, in front of everyone. The guy is fearless. My admiration for him grows exponentially. From his pocket he produces a ring box and opens it, showing her the ring inside. Kate throws her arms around him and they kiss.
I laugh as their audience goes wild. Elliot stands, takes a well-deserved bow, and sits down beside his fiancée with a ridiculous grin plastered on his face.
Ana is crying and squeezing my hand.
Shit.
I remember when I first asked her to marry me. She cried then, too. We were on the floor of the living room in Escala, and I had confessed my worst. I wonder what Ethan Kavanagh would make of that if he knew.
Don’t go there, Grey.