Page 155 of The Reason I Married Him
I boop him on the nose. “Good job.”
“I don’t plan on checking them out, though,” he says.
“No?” I ask. “Just examining? Well, don’t judge me if you see me with my tongue hanging out.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks. “Do you like checking out women?”
“I like the female body. I think it’s a beautiful thing. And I’ve kissed a girl or two in my lifetime, felt a boob once. I think they’re nice. I think they’re so nice that I like to play with my own breasts sometimes.”
His smile grows even wider. “You like your tits played with, Aubree?”
“Oh yeah. Love it so much. Matt was okay at it, but I think I’m better.”
“What makes you better than Matt?” he asks.
“Many things, but he just loved shoving the whole thing in his mouth, as if that’s what I want. He never understood the art of teasing, you know? He wouldn’t play with my nipple. He wouldn’t circle his finger around it or flick it or pinch it. He’d lick it on occasion, but that didn’t do much. I wanted more from him. So much more.”
“Shame,” Wyatt says as he drags his finger up my shoulder and circles it. “I love playing with nipples.”
“Really?” I ask. “Do you play with your own?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “But I don’t mind if my girl plays with them. Turns me on.”
“Interesting.” I tap my chin before taking another sip of my drink. “What else turns you on?”
“Going down,” he says without even thinking about it. “I love eating pussy.”
“Oh.” My cheeks redden because I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a man say that, especially with such conviction. “I remember you saying that. Love to, uh, put that out there, don’t you?”
“Because I love it,” he says. “So fucking much. If it were up to me, I’d start every night with my woman sitting on my face. Where it goes from there, I don’t care, but fuck do I want that pussy on my tongue.”
Good God, why am I getting so hot right now?
So flustered.
So . . . turned on?
Probably because I’ve never really had a man go down on me and do a good job. Probably because they treated it more like a chore than something they enjoyed doing. Probably because it’s been a really long time for me, and Wyatt keeps touching me and kissing me and looking at me as if I decided to sit on his face right now, he’d be the happiest motherfucker in the room.
“Well, that’s, uh . . . that’s valuable information,” I say. “Thank you for sharing it.”
His hand curls around my neck as he pulls me in closer. “What about you, Aubree? What do you like?”
Men who like eating pussy.
Men who don’t mind stepping up for me.
Men who will curl into me every night because they know it comforts me—even though they don’t know the real reason is because it helps distract my mind from the terrors it plays when the lights turn out.
But I can’t say that.
I don’t want him to know.
“Umm,” I say as I awkwardly bring my drink between us and sip. “Well, you know about the nipple thing.”
“Logged that away,” he says as his thumb strokes the column of my neck. I like that, a lot. I like the possession of it.
“And I like my vibrator.”
