Page 25 of Truth and Temptation
She wants me to give her an orgasm. Her first orgasm, if I understood her drunken rambling correctly. Honestly, all the blood rushed to my dick when she started talking about me touching her, so I could be mistaken. Yet somehow, I don’t think I am.
At five, I gave up on sleeping, and after a final check on Paige, I headed down to the hotel gym. A fast five mile run and some weights got the blood pumping but did nothing for the nervous energy built up inside of me, knowing I’m going to have to face her in a few hours. Will she even remember last night? She was pretty drunk, so who knows. I know I won’t forget it any time soon.
I get to the restaurant downstairs first, so I order us both some coffee while I wait. When she enters, I can’t avoid the smile that curves up my face. She’s dressed extra formal today, except on her it’s less uptight and more of a sexy librarian style. The black pants hug her slender frame, and the light-coloured shirt is tailored to fit her perfectly. Her hair is swept up in a braid that drapes over one shoulder. Eventually she finds me and makes her way over to our table.
“Wyatt. I believe I owe you an apology,” she says as soon as she sits down, and I instantly reach my hand over to lay it across hers.
“You don’t. And I won’t accept one.”
“But my behaviour last night,” she starts to tug her hand away, and I tighten my hold.
“You had some drinks, Paige. We all say things when we’re drunk.”
Her cheeks colour. “That’s the problem. I do not recall everything I said, which unnerves me. But I do recall touching you. And I fear that was too forward of me.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t. I respect that you go for what you want in life, Paige.” I flash her a wink. “Especially when I’m the thing you want. The only reason I didn’t let it go any further is because I didn’t want to take advantage of you in that state. But if you hadn’t been drunk, this would be a different type of breakfast.”
Her brow furrows. “In what way?”
“We’d still be in bed.”
Paige’s jaw drops open. She recovers quickly, and I keep my chuckle to myself.
“So, breakfast, then you’re headed to your conference until late afternoon, right?”
She nods.
“Awesome. Well, assuming you don’t have plans again tonight, can I take you out for dinner?”
It takes a moment, but eventually Paige nods and I release her hand. “Great. I’m guessing you need some greasy breakfast foods to fight off the hangover?” I give her a teasing grin, but to my surprise, she shakes her head.
“Actually, there is no evidence to suggest fatty foods assist in the alleviation of hangover symptoms. I drank two glasses of water when I woke up, took a cold shower, and some Tylenol. I’ll be fine with some toast and fruit.”
I hide my smile, but damn, I love her brain and her no-nonsense approach. “Okay, then. Toast and fruit it is.”
Over breakfast, I cajole Paige into telling me what led to her inebriated state last night. When she tells me how this jackass Seth assumed they were on a date, my back goes up. But she calms me down surprisingly fast when she explains how she dealt with him. Still, the idea that she might see him again today rubs me the wrong way. But there’s nothing I can do.
When we go our separate ways, her to the conference, and me to do God knows what to fill the day, seeing as I don’t actually have anything to do in the city, I pull her into my arms and press a light kiss to her forehead.
“Have fun.”
Paige blinks up at me, a small smile cresting her lips. “I shall do my utmost to enjoy learning about the latest trends within historical fiction, but I suspect the panel on World War II dramatic sagas may not be entertaining in that sort of way.”
Once again, her sense of humour hits perfectly. “I guess not. Then instead of saying ‘have fun,’ how about I say ‘have an enlightening time.’”
“Much better.”
Then to my surprise, Paige lifts up and swiftly kisses the corner of my mouth before joining the crowd of people walking into the convention center.
And like the sap I’m turning into with her, I stand there on the sidewalk and watch her go.
For dinner, I take her to one of my favourite restaurants in Vancouver. It pays homage to the city’s obsession with sushi, but with a West Coast twist. Over salmon rolls, Paige fills me in on the conference, and the animation on her face while talking about the panels she attended is mesmerizing. But when I hear the name Seth, my focus snaps into place.
“What did that fucker want?”
“Wyatt, your protective tone is unwarranted. Not only was Seth perfectly respectable, but you and I are not in a relationship. You have no right to become defensive on my behalf. Did you or did you not dislike that type of behaviour when Ethan displayed it at Hastings?”
Well, shit. Her chiding hits me on several levels. But what shocks me is the part that stings the most — hearing her say we’re not in a relationship. We’re not, but I want to be. And that is startling for me to acknowledge.
