Page 54 of The Best Men
Oh, wait. “Which one?” I mumble.
He pokes my belly. “What do you mean, which one? Is there more than one wedding spreadsheet?”
“No,” I say quickly.
His coffee mug stops on the way to his mouth. “Hang on. What’s the other spreadsheet?”
“Nothing.” I take a gulp.
Those hazel eyes narrow. “You use spreadsheets a lot, right? For any kind of list?”
I shrug indifferently. My poker face is tight.
Asher’s gaze drops to my throat, and I gulp. “Banks. You mentioned a list of things you’d like to do to me. Do you keep it on aspreadsheet?” The corners of his mouth twitch.
“Spreadsheets are very convenient,” I mutter.
“Huh.” He struggles not to laugh. “Break it down for me. If you were going to keep a spreadsheet for sex, how would that work?”
I sigh. “The rows are for the action, and the columns are for body parts. If you’re going to laugh, just make it quick. We have a busy day planned.”
“I’m not laughing.” He takes a slow breath and masters himself. “You gotta do you, Banks.”
“That’s why the spreadsheet exists. Because me doingmewas all I ever got.”
He bursts out laughing. “Okay. I see your point. And kudos to you for giving new meaning to the wordspreadsheet. Do I get to see this thing?”
“Only if you’re nice.”
“I’m very nice,” he says, ghosting a hand over my ass before withdrawing it quickly. “But we need some rules.”
“Rules. Okay. Tell me.” But what I really mean isstop talking and kiss me more.
“We get the work done first,” he says. “Because I don’t want to rush next time. I want to play with your body. Show you things I can do to make you writhe and moan, harder and hotter than you did last night. Want to spend some time doing,” He lowers his voice, leans into me, and whispers his plans into my ear. My head pops.
I actually moan into my coffee mug. “Not fair. That’s 9A, 9B and 9C.”
A smirk comes my way. “Sothatbody part will geta lotof action, if I’m doing the spreadsheet math right.”
“You are.” Because him plus touching me equals all theOcolumns.
Asher steps back. “Was that nice enough?”
“You whispered dirty things in my ear just to get me to show you my spreadsheet?”
He lifts the mug to his lips, and saysyeswith his eyes, then takes a drink.
“Good move, St. James. You’re learning a thing or two about negotiation,” I quip, as I head to my room and snag my laptop.
Less than a minute later, we’re seated at the kitchen table, and for the first time ever in my life, I let someone into my fantasies. I never did anything like this with Bridget. True, I didn’t have a detailed list back then. Though I doubt that’s the reason I didn’t reveal them to her.
But now I’m compelled to share this with him. It’s not just necessary, but important. After I tap in my password, the first seven digits of pi, I click it open while Asher scrubs a hand across his jaw.
He’s silent as he stares at the screen.
For several long seconds, he's frozen with that hand on his face. Maybe a minute.
He can’t think I’m too dirty?
