Forever Wild (Wild 2.50)

“So?” Jonah’s voice has taken on a wary edge.

“So … I took a picture of Delyla’s contact info.”

He rolls, shifting me onto my back. “What kind of crazy plan is going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I don’t know yet.”

His fingers stroke my hair off my face before he peers down at me. “He’s not like Wren was, though. He’s more like a wild animal. One that finally trusts you. That can all be erased in a blink if you do something to break his trust, and you’ll be back to square one with him.”

“I know. That’s what I’m worried about.” Roy has come so far since that first visit back in March, the day we moved in and found out we were proud owners of a goat we didn’t want.

“Enough about Roy.” Jonah leans in, his lips grazing my jawline, shifting to the sensitive spot below my ear. He knows that’s a weak spot of mine. “It’s our second-to-last night alone until January second.”

“Oh my God, you’re right!”

“That’s a long time to have your mother and Simon on the other side of our bedroom wall.”

“They both wear earplugs to sleep.” Simon is a light sleeper, and the sound of him breathing irritates my mother.

“Earplugs won’t drown you out.”

“Oh, shut up.” Jonah loves to tease me about how loud I can get, but it’s—usually—not true. “I guess you better get to work, then.”

He gives me a questioning look. “Get to work with what, exactly?”

“You owe me.” I waggle my eyebrows. “For yesterday, in the office.”

The corner of his mouth kicks up as his fingers deftly unfasten the buttons of my pajama top, until he’s casting the sides open, uncovering my breasts to the cool air. “Have I ever told you how much I love all these sexy, oversized flannel pajamas you keep buying for yourself? Especially the ones with the candy canes?”

My laughter carries from deep in my belly as he shifts his broad body down, his tongue leaving a wet trail along my skin, from my collarbone all the way to my belly button, pausing for a few swirls around my peaked nipples. “Good, because I bought two more pairs.” I pause, and then add in a playfully seductive voice, “Vennen.”

He freezes. “Can you not call me that? Especially not when I’m doing this?”

“Okay, vennen,” I echo, stifling my giggle.

“Seriously.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s a term of endearment. For a little boy.” He tugs my bottoms off in one fell swoop of his hand and then tosses them away. Shifting over to fit his shoulders between my thighs, he pauses to stare steadily into my eyes. “Do I look like a little boy to you, Calla?” His voice has grown husky.

I swallow my amusement away. “No.” He looks like the most masculine, beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

I inhale sharply at the first swipe of his tongue.

“What the hell are you talking about? Mom? What is he talking about!”

I blink the sleep from my eyes and check the clock to see that it’s only eight a.m. It’s still dark out, but Björn and Astrid have probably been up for hours, given the time difference.

With a groan, I slide out of bed, shuddering against the morning chill. I hastily clean myself up in the bathroom and then rush downstairs.

“Why am I finding out now? From him?” Jonah is glaring at Björn from across the kitchen island, but he’s clearly talking to his mother, perched on a kitchen stool.

“I didn’t want to worry you for something so minor,” Astrid responds calmly, flipping through an urban bridal magazine Diana subscribed me to as soon as Jonah and I got engaged. Her face is freshly made with mascara and a hint of lipstick, her short, platinum-blonde hair styled for the day, yet the expression she wears is heavy with exhaustion. Whether it’s from her long travels or this ongoing strife between her son and husband, only she can tell.

Meanwhile, Jonah looks like he’s been slapped across the face as he shakes his head at his mother. “Minor? You call that minor?”

Astrid’s gaze stalls on an image of wedding dresses as she says something to Björn in Norwegian. Again, that musical lilt masks what I’m assuming are unpleasant words.