Page 154 of The Reason I Married Him
“I like it a lot.”
He grins and pokes my cheek that’s smiling. “I can tell. Are you feeling tipsy, Aubree?”
“No, are you?” And that’s a huge, fat lie because, whoa boy, do I feel good.
“Uh-huh,” he says skeptically just as another drink is set on the table for me.
“Hey, I didn’t order that.”
Hattie turns around and says, “That’s from us, enjoy the show.”
I pick up the drink and position the straw in front of my mouth. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think my sister’s trying to get me drunk.”
“I think she’s doing a good job with it,” Wyatt says while he drains the rest of his drink by opening his mouth wide and letting the amber liquid flow right down his throat.
“I think one more of these, and I might be sitting on your lap,” I say as I look at my pretty sunset-colored drink. So delicious.
“You don’t have to wait, babe. Sit all you want.” He gestures to his lap, but I shake my head.
“No, that would be too much, don’t you think?”
“Hattie is sitting on Hayes’s lap,” Wyatt points out.
I lean in close to him and whisper, “That’s because they’re sex freaks.”
Wyatt lets out a roar of a laugh. “I didn’t know sitting on someone’s lap made you a sex freak.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m serious. I heard them once in the middle of . . . coitus, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. It was violating my ears on all accounts. And Hattie even told me she’ll have multiple orgasms. That can’t be a thing.”
Wyatt tilts his head to the side, questions in his brow. “You haven’t had multiple orgasms in a night?”
“No,” I scoff. “I was lucky if I got one. It’s okay, though.” I take a large sip of my drink and talk a little quieter. “I have a vibrator that does the trick when the man can’t.”
“You do, do you?” he asks. “Can it make you come twice in a night?”
I smile and nod. “It can.”
“Do you ever use it when I’m in the shower?”
I frown. I’m feeling loose at the moment. Hmm, maybe these drinks are starting to get to me. “No, I’ve been too nervous. But . . .” I place my hand on his thigh as I lean in even more and say, “When you went on a run the other day, I pulled it out and had fun.”
His tongue runs over his lips. “Did you think about me?”
“Why would I think about you?” I ask. “That seems weird.”
“Weird?” he asks as he turns toward me as well and runs his finger over my arm. “I’ve caught you checking me out without a shirt on.”
“I don’t check you out. I just examine.”
“Oh, there’s a difference?” he asks.
“Certainly,” I answer. “Checking you out requires a tongue hanging out of the mouth, like this.” I demonstrate, holding my tongue out and looking him up and down. “Now examining, that would be like this.” I casually tilt my head to the side and slowly look him up and down. “See the difference?”
“Yeah, I do.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “So if I were to look you up and down like this . . .” His intriguing and hungry eyes roam over my body, starting at my head and moving down my neck to my chest, where he pauses for a moment or two, then lifts back up. The entire time, I feel like I’m being scanned by X-ray vision. “That would be examining, not checking out.”
“Correct,” I say in a wobbly voice before taking a large sip of my drink. “Now, when the women in their scantily clad lingerie sets start strutting across the stage, if your tongue is hanging out while you watch, that would be . . .”
“Checking them out,” he answers.
