Page 124 of Bad Run

“How do you feel this morning?”

“Better now.” She grins. “Didn’t know orgasms make cramps feel better.”

A grin splits my face, and I wiggle my eyebrows at her. She giggles, and the sound is like fuel in my gas tank. “Happy to be of service.”

“Is it bad that I want more?”

“Orgasms? Hell no. I always want more with you. And if you want more orgasms, I will lie here and let you rub all up on me. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“What if I want more?” She looks away, embarrassed by her question. That pink hue on her cheeks reappears.

My dick twitches. She can’t be hinting at more, more, right? Because I am so fucking in. I’ll take whatever scraps of affection Gwen will give me; I’m that greedy for her.

“Look at me.” Gwen returns her gaze to mine. I cup her face, running my thumb over her luscious lips. “Anything you want. It’s yours. A few months ago, you asked me to fuck you in the back of a dirty cab in an alley in New York, and I did. Ask for what you want, Gwen. I promise I’ll give it to you.”

forty

Gwen

Present

“I promise I’ll give it to you.”

I stare down into Lance’s blue eyes and watch them darken like a stormy sea, tempting me to dip my toes in, only to trick me and drag me under. Drown me in their tumultuous tides of ecstasy.

The last time he looked at me like this, I ran out on him.

For weeks, I have been running away from the storm. Fighting my attraction to Lance.

It’s exhausting.

I’m done running. Done fighting. Not only against him, but myself too.

I want Lance, and if I can put my fears aside, I can see that he wants me to.

All the little signs were there. The nonstop texts throughout the day. The calls that last for hours when he’s traveling. He bought a TV for his bedroom because he knows I like watching weird documentaries before bed, a cabinet full of syrups for my coffee to fit my mood, and donut deliveries every morning for breakfast. He even freaking shows up with period presents to make me feel better.

This man has been giving me everything since I married him.

Now, Lance is here, lying beneath me, promising me anything my body—and maybe even my heart—desires.

All I have to do is jump.

And somehow jumping feels much easier than running and fighting.

“Ask me,” he repeats, rubbing his thumb over my lips.

Here goes nothing.

Like I did in the back of the cab, I ask for what I want. “I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me. Please?”

“I love it when you ask so politely.” He curls his fingers around my neck and tugs my face to his for a deep kiss. His free hand squeezes my hip, urging me to roll my hips over his thick length.

“Bed or shower?” he asks between kisses.

“Hmm,” I moan as he nips my ear and sucks the sting away.

Concentrate, Gwen.