Midnight Sommelier - Anne Malcom Page 0,31

mouth twitch. One I felt decidedly south of my belly button. Like all the way south.

“Yeah, I’ve been hit on,” he said. “Walking the halls of that place is like dodging fuckin’ land mines. Which I’m glad I only had to do once for the initial meeting with the principal, but I guess once is enough since I can’t get fucking groceries without running into one of the moms trying to get me into the PTA.” He raised his brows. “Do I look like I’m gonna be part of the PTA?”

I chuckled at that. It was natural. Easy. Felt good. But I was overcome with guilt the second it was over. I was feeling amused, happy almost, at something another man said.

“And, Bridget, I wouldn’t be the best sex they’d have in a while,” he continued. “I’d be the best sex they’d have ever.”

I clenched my knees together harder now, trying to stop the words and the tone in which he said them from traveling into my already damp panties.

I took a swallow of my wine. A large one.

Zeke watched me do so. Made no move to hide it, the way he was devouring me with his eyes.

I’d never been looked at like that before.

Not ever.

My skin prickled with the need for him to see more. Not just me drinking wine. Me, naked, writhing on top of him. Me, spread eagle in front of him.

Fuck.

My glass slammed on the coffee table with such force I was surprised it didn’t shatter. It shocked even me, but Zeke didn’t so much as flinch.

He watched me with interest as I stood on shaky legs.

“I should go,” I said, glancing over to my house. The fence obscured a lot of the view, but I could see various lights on. Alexis would’ve been waiting up, chewing on her nails, worried. She would’ve tended to Ryder with practiced efficiency. Probably offered to cook him something because she, like my mother, didn’t meet a problem that couldn’t be solved by a homecooked meal. Ryder sitting there, marinating on the night’s events, because that’s the kind of boy he was. Maybe Jake was there too, supporting him in that quiet way I loved.

It was stupid of me to put faith and hope into my son’s first serious high school relationship. It was likely to be the first of many. Life wasn’t kind enough to give us our true loves that early and without turmoil. I hated that that was the truth, that my son would likely suffer at least one broken heart before he got someone who would take care of it. Treasure it. But then again, I had a man that treasured my heart and shattered it anyway, just by leaving this world.

Zeke was standing now too. I wasn’t sure when that happened.

I let my guard down. Let the wine and comfortable surroundings lure me into a false sense of security. But I was never secure, and I should’ve known better. Especially with this man, who despite his comfortable, lavish surroundings, was wild. Dangerous.

I figured that just as he stalked toward me, just as his hands settled around my neck before I had the opportunity to move. Retreat.

There was no escape.

8

The kiss was not gentle.

Not romantic.

It was nothing like I’d ever known a kiss could be.

It was fire. It was my skin melting from my bones. There was a ravenous, violent hunger inside of me the second his lips captured mine. His hands everywhere. Or were those mine? Ripping at his hair, crawling up underneath his t-shirt, scratching at his skin.

I tasted blood and wine once again. My teeth sank into the flesh of his lip because I was greedy and wanted to know what he tasted like. Because I wanted a little of his wild inside me.

It would’ve lasted longer. It would’ve gone all the way, I had no doubt about that. My clothes were already too heavy, too constricting. The need to have my skin exposed to him like some kind of offering was overpowering.

A second more and I might’ve started to tear my clothes off with my bare hands. I would’ve licked every inch of him until he was full and hard in my mouth.

The loss of his lips, of his heat, was immediate and stark.

It took a second for me to focus, for me to understand I was no longer attached to a man who wasn’t my husband. Who was a verifiable stranger. He’d stopped the kiss, that much was obvious. I had