Page 4 of Return To Love

He shook his head and tucked the sticks away. “Nope. Not talking about the blip into that parallel universe.”

She laughed, a thousand feelings tangling up in her chest. With a lock of hair falling onto his forehead, his gummy grin wide and real, he looked achingly gorgeous.

Leaning close, he tangled his arm through hers. “Merry Christmas, fantasy girl. Here’s to starting over.”

Chapter Three

She was playing along,thank God.

Dom swallowed a too large gulp of his scotch, the burn down his chest calming him.

Bringing out the wine sticks had been a near miss. But how could he let her drink the wine when he knew how badly she would suffer the next day?

Now he needed to get them back on the fantasy train.

He shuffled a little closer to her. Her gasp was sweet when his thigh pressed against hers. Suddenly, he wished he had arranged for them to meet directly at their hotel suite. He would have ravished that pretty mouth by now and…

No, his wife had always liked a little thrill in their sex life. While it had been regular for years—because he was a man who thrived on a routine—it definitely had been nothing close to thrilling. Worse, with his company going public in the last two years, he’d had neither the energy nor the time even for scheduled sex. Then, with Mona falling ill…it had all come to a screeching halt.

“You’re right,” he said, running his finger over the plump veins on the back of her hand. “Who wants to share boring details when they can be teased out in a fun game?”

She took a sip of her wine, which left her lips glistening. He wanted to lick it off so badly that he shivered.

“A fun game?” She eyed him with such bloodthirstiness that Dom had to bite his lower lip to stop smiling.

“You could let me earn the privilege of learning your secrets,” he said, lifting a piece of smoked salmon tartare to her mouth.

A soft moan escaped her as she chewed and the sound went straight to his dick. “It’s on,” she said. Then she clutched his wrist, made him pick another piece and feed her. The tip of her tongue licked the tips of his fingers while she held his gaze.

Lust slammed into him like a freight train. He gripped her chin. “Flirty or filthy for tonight?”

Her lips parted in a soft gasp. “Filthy.”

“Private or public?”

Eyes wide, she looked around and trembled. “Public.”

“Truth or dare?”

She pushed one silky shoulder against the paneled wood and considered him, the edges of her hair fluttering over the swell of one tit. The angle dragged on her neckline, presenting him with her cleavage. He got stuck on the decadent sight.

God, he’d missed her tits like no one’s business. If things went well, he would bury his face between them tonight and not come up for air. Maybe he would do it for the rest of their lives. He had made enough money for them to live in comfort without ever working again.

How had he lost sight of what was important so badly?

“Eyes up here,” she said, her lips glistening from the wine.

He swallowed, wriggled on the seat—with no relief to his thickening dick, and looked up. “Truth or dare?” he repeated.

She lifted her chin. “Dare.”

He raised his brows in pretend surprise. “Do you want to know the question before you choose? I’m feeling generous.”

“Nope,” she said, popping the sound with an irreverence he wanted to kiss out of her. She knew damn well that he’d ask about her living her dream.

“Fine.” He let his fingers drift over the silky swathe of her nape. Her eyelids fluttered close and she leaned into his touch. “I’ll make you come right here, now.”

Her wine glass shook in her hand so violently that a little spilled over her chest.

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