f my breasts. I was still tempted to cover them, but his expression was so hungry, it was impossible to worry overmuch about jiggling. I climbed out and picked up my cami before passing him his boxers. “If you’d like to join me, you’re welcome to. But if you’re coming along, don’t dally. If not,” I walked to the door and waved over my shoulder, “see you when I see you.”
He swore as I pulled the door shut behind me.
6
Oliver
Death by Celine Dion was an actual thing. Who knew?
I would, by the end of this night.
Worst of all, the evening had started so innocuously. Well, after the blowjob that nearly blew my damn head off. But once I’d gotten out of the hot tub, wrung out my shorts, and slipped into the shower to clean up, my mind started to clear. Some. I was still revved up, almost to the point that I would’ve sworn I hadn’t come.
And I had. Incredibly. Right into the waiting mouth of the most gorgeous pain in the ass I’d ever known.
She was waiting for me when I got out of the shower. Not knowing what exactly her idea of dinner consisted of, I’d gone with a slate-gray suit and vest, sans tie. She had on a slinky navy sheath that hugged her curves, and her still-wet hair hung in long, curling waves down her back. My fingers had tingled at the sight of it. Fisting it had felt way too damn good. Natural.
As would taking a palm to her tight little ass.
Her smile had been saucy, as if she’d been let in on a big secret. Knowing. Yet she didn’t have a clue of all the pleasures that awaited her.
Assuming I didn’t kill her before the end of the night.
We ate at a swanky restaurant called Caribou, and she was her usual self with everyone who helped us—the maître d’, our server, and the manager who walked around making sure everyone was happy with their food. Yet she barely spoke to me. She ordered salmon with a small green salad, and we shared an appetizer of stuffed mushrooms and lots of awkward silence.
Were regrets setting in already?
For dessert, she selected a piece of cake with chocolate ganache and raspberry glaze, big enough to share. I wasn’t huge on sweets, but it looked delicious. I was about to dig in when she let out a small sigh.
“Celine Dion is who I listened to when I found out my parents were selling the bed-and-breakfast. She helped heal me.”
I would’ve laughed at the healing part if she didn’t seem so serious about it. One point for keeping my damn mouth shut for once. I continued slicing off a thin wedge of cake before transferring it to my plate.
“How did she do that?”
“I had no warning. Well, little warning. I came home on summer break, ready for another summer of helping everyone, and my parents sat me down in the great room and told me they had exciting news. I thought maybe we’d been featured in one of the big touristy magazines or something.” She rested her cheek on the back of her hand and dipped her fork into the puddle of glaze that had accumulated on the plate. But she didn’t eat. “They didn’t even ask me or let me down gently, or hell, even give me a chance to put some funds and resources together. It was a done deal. They were selling the bed-and-breakfast and retiring to travel, and wasn’t that so wonderful for me? I’d be truly on my own.”
“But it wasn’t wonderful. You didn’t want to be on your own.” When she didn’t reply right away, I gestured with my fork. “Eat your cake.”
She startled at my stern tone, though she complied without hesitation. No balking whatsoever. She definitely hadn’t minded my dominance in the Jacuzzi, which fascinated and intrigued me. I wouldn’t have guessed she had a submissive tendency in her body.
Surprise, surprise. There was something there. A fledgling, untried part of her she likely hadn’t had a chance to express.
I hoped to find out more about that side of her. Not now. Now we had a much thornier topic to discuss.
“No, I didn’t want to be on my own. My life had been about my family and working at the bed-and-breakfast every spare moment. I’d hoped one day to make it my own.”
That dovetailed with what Ally had told me, but it was always better when it was corroborated from the horse’s mouth.
“Did you inform your parents of that?”
Sage dragged her fork through the curls of ganache, spearing one and then delicately eating it off the tines. I was certain she wasn’t trying to be alluring. It was as natural as her innocence.
Completely intoxicating.
“I thought they knew. It wasn’t as if I’d hidden how much I loved the hospitality industry. I minored in it in school. My free time was theirs for years. I loved the work, so it wasn’t a hardship. And I was good at it too.”
“But they never asked you if you wanted to take over, and you never told them you wanted to. You also never want back to school.”