Page 115 of A Pizza My Heart

“No,” I repeat.

“Where are you taking me? At least tell me that.”

“Your salon.”

“What? Why?”

“Mirrors, Wren.” I thump her on the ass. “And I’m fairly certain those chairs spin 360 degrees. I can finda lotof things to do with mirrors and three hundred sixty degrees at my disposal.”

Slice Nineteen

Wren

“In all those fantasies of yours, did you ever think about us doing it at Slice?”

The water Foster just took a sip of dribbles down his chin.

He wipes the mess away, eyes round. “What the fuck, Daniels? You can’t say shit like that while I’m taking a drink.”

“Sorry. What’s your preferred time for me to ask you about your sexual fantasies?”

“How about—” He shakes his head, clamping his lips together. “Nope. No. I was going to smart off and say never, but that would be a lie because you can ask me about those at any time.” He twists two fingers together. “Hopefully that means you’re thinking of them too and we can continue checking things off the list.”

“A list? There’s a whole list?”

“More like a book, one with at least twenty chapters.”

“You are a twisted, horny individual.” I smirk. “I like it.”

He shakes his head. “So naughty.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He turns his head left then right, looking around for I don’t know what.

Foster pushes up from the stool he’s been occupying for the last ten minutes, grabs my hand, and rushes me behind the bar and down the long, narrow hall.

He wrenches open the supply closet and tucks us both inside.

Before I can question him, he smashes his lips to mine, sucking all the air from my lungs in a searing kiss.

Will it always be this way? Will kissing him always make me feel like my lungs are on fire? Like my legs can’t remember how to walk? Like my entire world is spinning backward?

Because I could get used to this.

He traces his lips over mine, hips rolling into me as he presses me against one of the wire racks filling the room.

“This room.” Another kiss. “It’s dark, secluded.” Kiss. “But used enough that we could get caught at any moment.”

“You want to do it during the day? While customers are here?”

He moans against my neck as he trails kisses down it. I push my hands into his hair, loving the way the soft curls feel between my digits.

“Yes. During a shift, more specifically. You’d be rushing across the floor, frazzled and needing an outlet. I’d make some shitty excuse and take you down the hallway, pull you into this room, and have my way with you.”

I pant as his hands begin to find their way beneath my suddenly untucked shirt.

“You’d lose customers, probably. Get stiffed on a tip or two.” He palms my breast. “That’s okay, though, because you’d be getting a whole different kind of stiffing in here.”

---