Page 39 of Truth and Temptation
I look up at him in surprise. “You cook?”
He grins back at me. “Yeah, I cook. One of my favourite things to do when I travel is learn how to make a traditional dish from the area I’m visiting. Do you want pad thai? Cassoulet? Paella? Maybe some ravioli con pinoli?”
“You know how to cook all of that?” My mind is stunned by the idea that he has been to all of those places.
I’ve never even left Canada.
An insidious voice in my head starts whispering to me. What could I, with my safe, quiet life, possibly offer a man like Wyatt, who has seen the world and lives for adventure? That’s a question I’m not sure I want to answer.
At Wyatt’s family’s summer home, I get Polly settled with a bowl of food while Wyatt pulls out ingredients from the fridge and pantry. When I make my way to join him, he waves me off and slides a glass of wine over the counter to me.
“All I need you to do is sit there and give me something beautiful to look at.” He winks, and though I know he means it as a compliment, it’s difficult for me to take it as such. Sitting stiffly on the stool, I tug my lower lip between my teeth as I decide whether or not to say anything.
“Okay baby, you’re thinking so hard I can feel it over here. What’s on your mind?”
With a quick draw of breath, I decide to be honest. “I am not used to being treated as little more than an ornament. To say nothing of the fact that your worldly experiences are intimidating for someone who has never ventured farther than the nation’s capital. I cannot help but wonder what I have to offer other than my…” I trail off, mortified. Because as I realized back at the store, I cannot think of a single meaningful thing that I contribute to our dynamic.
“Your beauty? Your kindness? Your intellect? Your humour? Your friendship?” Wyatt stalks around the counter, spins me on the stool, then pins me in with his hands on either side of my body. His eyes are gleaming with fire. “Do I need to go on? Paige, just because I’ve traveled and you haven’t doesn’t mean we are unequal in any way that matters. As for you being an ornament, I am so fucking sorry that’s how it came across.” He lets out a huff of self-effacing laughter. “I was just trying to compliment you. I want to cook for you. I want to impress you because you impress me every fucking minute I’m around you.”
My mouth falls open. “Oh.”
Wyatt lifts two fingers to my chin and gently closes my mouth, then leans in and kisses me softly. “Yeah. So, can I do this for you? Please? Without you overthinking and overanalyzing it?” He kisses me again, once, twice, then pulls back. “And I mean that in the nicest way possible because your beautiful brain is breathtaking to me. But I want you to relax tonight, and just enjoy it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
But it isn’t okay, not really. Because while he flattered me with his kind words, the niggle of doubt inside of me doesn’t go away. I still don’t see how two people who are so different, who have lived such different lives, and who are likely going in different directions can possibly make any sort of real relationship work.
Wyatt may not see that, but I do. Nonetheless, I make an effort to do as he asked and ignore my worries for tonight. A handsome man is cooking dinner for me, and I need to find a way to simply enjoy that.
I wish I could say I was successful in tabling my concerns for later, but I wasn’t. Not entirely. They stayed with me through dinner, and even when we went to bed. The only time I didn’t think about our relationship was when we made love. The rest of the time, the questions and worries swirled inside of me, growing. Festering. Rationally, I know that this happiness Wyatt and I have found cannot last. We cannot last without some significant changes in one or both of our lives. He may say he’s here to research starting a new business on the island, but that is not enough to guarantee his presence in Dogwood Cove long-term.
Tonight, Serena is hosting book club, and it’s the darn sex toy party she and Mila insist on subjecting us to. I’m bringing Polly, in hopes of providing a distraction so that I can avoid any talk of battery-operated assistance. Having only just discovered I am capable of reaching climax with a partner, I have no interest in ruining a good thing by adding in a new element.
I should have known better. My friends are ruthless.
“And this is what I call the ‘yes ma’am, you are welcome’ because you will be thanking the orgasm gods when you use it.” Mae, the woman who arrived with a suitcase full of toys and products to share, proudly holds up something that resembles a pink silicone slug.
Serena elbows me, and I belatedly realise I said that last part out loud. Thankfully, no one else seems to have heard, but Serena narrows her eyes at me, and I inwardly groan.
“I think that one looks fabulous, Mae. What does it feel like?” Serena asks innocently.
Our hostess’s eyes roll into the back of her head. “Good Lord, I cannot stop coming when I use this. It has gentle suction for your clit, and the perfect amount of stimulating vibrations. Seriously, this baby is a game changer.”
Serena turns to me. “Sounds perfect, doesn’t it, Paige?”
I scowl in return and stand up. “I’m going to warm up some more food.” No one acknowledges me, they’re all too fixated on the vibrating cock ring Mae is holding up. Yes, a cock ring. Never in my life did I envision myself here, surrounded by objects specifically designed to enhance sexual encounters.
I wonder if my friends would back off if they knew about Wyatt’s piercing…. Perhaps that would be salacious enough for them to stop pressuring me to expand my horizons even further? I don’t need toys when I have him. Then again, once Wyatt leaves, do I want to return to my previous state of being, with minimal to no satisfaction achieved from orgasm?
I turn and walk back into the living room and sit down again. I might as well be respectful and listen.
Chapter seventeen
Wyatt
I know my time off is coming to a close. The emails from work are becoming more and more direct with their requests for my involvement in various things, and although my mother will never come out and demand I come back to the office, my father would. And his email last night requesting to speak today tells me that time has come. My only hope is that I can postpone my return for one more week. I just need to get through the anniversary, then I can go back.
Except…. Going back means leaving Paige.
