needs his wife to divorce him so he can bang a younger woman. Which he only wants in the first place because he’s afraid to get old and die.”
Everything goes quiet inside me. I’ve been needing to hear that for a long time. I mean—Ginny said basically the same thing. But she’s my sister. She’s always on my side. Gunnar must think I’m okay in bed, or he wouldn’t be staring at me right now, his expression full of heat and intensity. “Thank you for saying that.”
“It’s just the truth.” He eases my feet off his lap. Without a word, he crooks his finger at me.
Oooh! My hormones squeal. Gunnar wants us.
I’m on all fours without even realizing it. And then I’m crawling toward him.
“Damn,” he whispers. “Your ex is the dumbest man on the planet.”
If I wasn’t already humming with desire, that would have done it.
“Come here, honey. Kiss me.” He beckons again. Then he kicks one leg up onto the couch, orienting his body in my direction, waiting with a wicked gleam in his eye.
I have courage running through my veins. So I reach for his fly, pop the button on his pants, and lower the zipper. Without waiting for an invitation, I reach inside his briefs and curl my hand around his erection.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Gunnar growls. His hand curls around the length of my hair.
Who knew that being a vixen was so easy? All I have to do is lean down and taste the salty tip of him. Gunnar makes a sound of shock that lights me up inside. I work his briefs down a little bit and pull his cockhead against my tongue, weighing it. Caressing it.
Gunnar braces his hard body against my sofa and yanks his trousers down a few inches, making my job a little easier. “That’s a girl,” he says in a low voice. “See what you can do now.”
So I do. It turns out you can easily forget your insecurities when the object of your pleasure is practically throbbing under your touch. I get busy licking and kissing and sucking with all I’ve got. Gunnar is loving it, too. You can’t fake this level of enthusiasm. Whispered encouragements and dirty curses fall from his lips, until he lets out a grunt and tries to nudge me aside. “That’s enough, honey. I’m close.”
But I’m a very goal-oriented person. So I hollow out my cheeks and give it to him good. Gunnar makes a deep sound of urgency, so I brace for victory. But instead, I find myself lifted off his dick and onto his shoulder. Somehow he rises from the sofa, holding my waist in one hand and his trousers in the other.
A squeak of terror leaves my throat as I am hoisted into the air. That’s twice in two days. I’m not sure it’s dignified for a grown woman to be hauled around like this.
Ten seconds later, though, I realize that dignity is overrated. Gunnar has tossed me on the bed, and then ripped off his clothes. He kneels down and pulls the two halves of my bathrobe apart like some kind of sex-starved superhero. He lifts my sleep shirt, dips his head down and finds my breast with his hungry tongue.
“You—” he says, breaking off to torture my other breast. “Are a good time, Posy Paxton. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”
My heart soars to hear it. And then Gunnar recommits himself to pleasuring me, and pretty soon other parts of me are soaring, too.
24
Gunnar
The Company is perfectly capable of watching Posy’s building for signs of trouble. There’s no practical reason I need to spend more nights in her bed.
But there are plenty of less practical ones.
The next night, I take Posy out for a romantic dinner. When we get back, Ginny and Aaron are already downstairs for the night. So we don't even have to keep up the ruse that I’m sleeping on the couch.
I walk her right into her bedroom and unzip her dress. Let the games begin.
This quickly becomes part of our routine. I work in the pie shop most mornings, leaving Posy’s apartment before Aaron is out of bed. After my shift, I take off for a workout or a meeting with Max. But by evening time, I'm back in Apartment 4-5, dining with Posy and sometimes Ginny and Aaron. I’m thirty-six years old, and this is the only moment I can name where my life had so much routine. And I think I like