Page 105 of Bad Run

“Night,” I mumble as Lance cuts the call.

Gripping my phone to my chest, I fall back and sigh.

The feelings I developed for Lance all those months ago come roaring back. Not that they ever really went away.

Things are about to get real when he returns home. He’s making his feelings known, and I’m still on the fence.

I’m running out of time. I need to decide whether I can let down my guard and jump headfirst into the unknown with Lance.

thirty-five

Lance

Present

From the entrance to the kitchen, I watch Gwen open the cabinet filled with coffee syrups and step back. She moves her pointed index finger side to side as she scans each bottle’s label for the flavor she’s craving.

I find it fascinating that she never picks the same flavor two days in a row. I’m a creature of habit. If I find something I like, there’s no switching. Some might say that’s the safe choice, but why mess with something that works.

Gwen’s long hair falls down her back in tight curls, grazing the top of her ass. Even covered in the finest wool suit pants, her backside looks rather delectable. Wish I could walk over and bite those cheeks. Spank them raw. Spread them wide and grab them tight.

Like it always does when I think about her, my cock twitches to life.

Shaking my lust-addled brain free of dirty thoughts of my wife, I enter the kitchen and stand behind her.

“Good morning,” I whisper into Gwen’s ear.

She whips her head to the side with a yelp, smacking me in the face with all that gorgeous hair. It smells of flowers and powder and of home.

“Dammit, Lance, you scared the crap out of me.” She’s breathing hard and clutching her chest as the vein on her neck flutters like hummingbird wings.

Her gaze falls to my naked chest, and I can’t help flexing, my body preening under her gaze.

After a week apart—me on the road and Gwen at her place—we are back at my place, and she’s back to maintaining boundaries.

Me? Not so much.

I boop her nose. “Not my fault you were so focused on the syrups that you didn’t hear me.”

Gwen removes her eyes from my pecs and grins at me, all traces of lust gone.

Bummer.

“I was lost, wasn’t I?” She turns back to the cabinet. “I don’t know what I’m feeling today. I have it narrowed down to white chocolate vanilla and salted caramel. What do you think?”

“I think black coffee sounds better,” I tease.

Gwen’s body stiffens, and she draws in an audible breath as I reach for the hot coffee pot, grazing her arm.

She tries to act unaffected, stepping to the side, but I spot how the small hairs on her arm stand on end.

My wife still denies our connection, her attraction. Fighting me. She can have all the time she needs to come around, but we are going to happen. In the meantime, I’ll keep secretly working on pushing her boundaries, hoping she’ll give in sooner rather than later.

Hiding my smirk, I fill the empty coffee mug Gwen set out for me—like she does every morning—as she reaches for a syrup bottle.

“What did you decide on?” I ask, leaning back against the counter and sipping my coffee.

“Gingerbread,” she whispers, avoiding eye contact and slowly stirring in the syrup so she doesn’t spill.