Page 59 of The Wedding Menu

“Ian,” I scold weakly, my stomach clenching. My whole face has turned a crimson red I’m not sure I can blame on the run, and it feels like my heart is beating in places it’s not supposed to.

Why is this so damn hot?

“That sounds delicioussss, Amelie. Come here: I’ll give you the besssst orgasssmsss.”

I don’t even know what accent he was going for this time, but my arousal and amusement have me sputtering out a weirdly high-pitched giggle that I promptly rein in.

“Did I leave you speechless?” he asks in his normal voice.

“A little.” Swallowing away the tension, I shrug. “Did you come up with that on the spot, or…?”

His sudden guffaw is raspy andwaytoo sexy. “Are you asking if I fantasize about using you as my dirty little fuck toy, beautiful?”

My jaw unhinges as I grip the counter to keep me steady, the cold surface burning against the heated skin of my fingers. “No, not me. That’s not what I—no, I—”

“Relax, Amelie. I’m just messing with you.” He lets out something between a chuckle and a sigh. “I’ve been told that and much worse in the bedroom. Really, telling your fiancé you want him to fuck you hard is nothing special.”

“Figures you’d say that,” I say, trying to divert his attention from me. “You’re a fuckboy.”

“Maybe. But if you were my fiancée, you wouldn’t be asking another man how to get me into bed,” he says in a firm voice. “In fact, I’d keep you pinned to that mattress until it’s worn out, and then we’d move to the couch. Or the floor.”

Ignoring what his words do to my stomach, I trap the phone between my shoulder and my ear, then squeeze some toothpaste out of the tube.

“Plus, your mouth would probably be too busy for questions.”

“Ian!”

“Just playing. You basically repulse me, and anyway, I’ll never have a fiancée.” He clears his voice. “Look, Amelie, my experience with these things is that the more it turnsyouon, the more it’ll turnhimon.” I can almost hear the mischief in his voice. “So… tell me, beautiful. What turns you on?”

“Nice try.”

“Come on, I mean it,” he says with a chuckle. “What is it?”

“I’m not saying, Ian,” I say. “It’s inappropriate.”

“Is it? Or maybe—hear me out—maybewhat you like isnotpure and angelic. Quite the opposite.MaybeAmelie has an angelic face and a filthy mind.”

I begin brushing my teeth, switching to speaker and placing the phone down next to the faucet.

“Just all sorts of nasty kinks.”

I say nothing.

“The dirtiest fantasies.”

He can besoannoying.

“No hard limits.”

“Ugh—stop it! I’m not saying!” Little drops of toothpaste pepper the mirror at my outburst.

“Come on!Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” he singsongs.

With my stomach plummeting, I sigh. He’s like a child on Adderall. “Fine. You start, then.”

After a quick cheer, he clears his voice. “All right. So I’m into alotof things. All that pure and angelic stuff? Not me. Oral sex—love that. Even more if my face is being ridden like a train. And you remember I’m great at multitasking, so sixty-nine is one of my many talents.” He hardly takes a breath before continuing. “I’m into any type of role-playing, edging. I’m definitely a switch. Threesomes are fun. Anal—”

“Okay!” I shout, my cheeks tingling so hard I don’t even dare to look at my reflection in the mirror. “Okay, I got it. You love sex.”

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