Page 100 of Scarlet Secrets

So I wait.

“I’m willing to give this a go, but this is also about trust, Demyan. And that goes both ways. My phone?—”

“You can have it.”

“My friend, Kara, I can’t go without her in my life.”

“You just saw her.”

She nods. “With an entire army of others. And I’ve only been allowed to call her on your fancy phone you gave me. What about my brother? I’ve got friends. A job?—”

“Temping?” I draw the line at that. “I don’t give my trust, so don’t fuck it up. You get your phone. If you must work, I’ll get you a job. There are arenas I need help with.”

Her lips press together.

“I’m trying. You… I don’t let people in like this.”

“Both ways, Demyan. Both.”

“For you. Our son. I’ll try.”

She looks up at the sky peeking through the canopy and finishes her wine. “I’ll take that. We should get back.”

I’d like longer, which is unusual for me, but I don’t disagree with her. Instead, we pack up and she trips, tumbling into my arms. I close my arms around her like it’s destiny.

“Ah, I see you’re so into me you can’t even walk straight.”

She smiles and shakes her head, making no move to pull free. “Don’t flatter yourself. The ground’s uneven.”

“You came pretty hard a number of times last night, Erin. Fuck, it was like a vice. It’s a perk of our marriage, all those orgasms I’ll give you, every fucking night if you’ll let me.”

“No one’s saying no to that, but a vibrator might give me less trouble.”

I growl at her. “A ban,” I say, “on such things.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs, and it delights me right down to my cock. “Really?”

“Less trouble, less fun, and I’ll make you happy. I’d love nothing more. If you let me.” I lean in. “And God knows, I’m good at it.”

“You’re way more attractive when you’re not being an arrogant asshole.”

“It’s not arrogance,” I say, “if it’s true.”

She’s wearing another of her pretty sundresses and I make a note to buy her lingerie, shoes, more dresses. I like her in dresses. And I slide a finger up along the expanse of her thigh, taking the light material with me.

“Stop that,” she says.

“No.” I tumble her down to the blanket that’s still out, and I kiss her. “I’m getting you more dresses.”

“I have dresses.”

“Not enough. Your wardrobe is limited.”

“I have things at home. My home, Demyan. The one I haven’t returned to.” She just looks at me, but the blush onher cheeks and the curve to her mouth tells me she’s not offended.

I kiss her again and her tongue slides against mine, almost shyly daring me to dance.

I never back down from a dare.

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