AllFreeNovel
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It’s where she’ll take off everything else.
She seems to hear the unspoken part of that sentence and stiffens, but then she steps down into the sunken living room and gets too busy fawning over the deep, plush couch. Part of me is tempted to take her over the arm of the sofa. Maybe we’ll double back and hit the bearskin rug, too. Perhaps the kitchen counters…
Fucking hell.It hasn’t even been an hour since I was last inside of her, and I’m aching for more.
At the risk of losing all semblance of control, I stick with the initial plan and lead her to the master bedroom.
Laila steps through the door and inhales sharply. “I know I sound like a broken record, but…thisis where you sleep?”
“Among other activities.”
God, I love the way her cheeks flush. It’s like a game, seeing how easily I can make her blood pump.Roza,this innocent little rose, blooming anew again and again, every time I push her outside of her comfort zone.
“Would you like something to drink?” I help myself to a shot of whiskey from the bar cart.
She takes one step deeper into the room. “Should I be drinking at all?”
“It was a good fuck, but even I can’t get you pregnant that fast.”
The blush rushes down her neck. Another petal on her pale skin. Another point for me.
She swallows. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
Instead of pouring another glass, I just hand her mine. She eyes the auburn liquid before giving it a tentative sniff. “This is exactly what you smell like! You smell like whiskey.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she flushes an even deeper shade of pink.
I find myself reaching for her face, grazing the backs of my fingers over her cheek. “‘Roza’has never been more appropriate.”
“What?”
I ignore her. “Whiskey is for drinking. Give it a taste.”
“At the risk of once again repeating myself… I’ve never actually tried whiskey before,” she admits suddenly, glancing at me through her eyelashes. “I must seem pretty uncultured.”
“My wife is practically a whiskey sommelier. She plays three instruments, speaks four languages, and has traveled half theworld.” I drop my chin, meeting her eyes. “None of that stops me from wanting to fling her off the top of the Empire State Building.”
Laila’s mouth turns down at the corners as she tries to fight back a laugh. “Where does she live?”
“Far away from me,” I answer with a grateful shudder. “She sticks to her side of the city, and I stick to mine—apart from those unfortunate instances when we’re forced to parade around as husband and wife.”
She lifts the glass towards her lips, but still doesn’t drink. “Sounds awful.”
“It is what it is. Freedom, more or less.”
“But not really,” she argues. “You’ll always be bound to each other. Unable to pursue anything real with anyone else.”
“Ah, but that’s my secret,roza,” I whisper. “I don’t want anything real with anyone.”
Her eyes meet mine for a fleeting second. Then she raises the whiskey and takes a long drink. I know what’s coming before she’s even swallowed.
“Oh, God,” she gasps, coughing until her eyes water.
“Whiskey is meant to be savored,” I chuckle. I remove the glass from her hands and run my hand down her spine. “You’re meant to sip it, not chug it like a pint of beer.”
“Well, it’s clear I’m no whiskey—” She coughs. “—sommelier. Can I get some water, please?”
After she’s finished a glass of water, she backs away from the row of liquor bottles like they might force their way down her throatagain if she lingers too close. “I’m not sure whiskey and I are gonna be good friends.”
I laugh again and step toward the bed, shedding my jacket and tie as I go. As always, it feels like sloughing off a mask I never wanted to wear. There are no chains of behavioral expectations in here.
