wanted: her. All of her.
And if she wasn’t careful, she might just give it to him.
Sex aside, Farrah had forgotten how easy it was to talk to Blake. How safe he made her feel. How hard he made her laugh. All the things that made her fall in love with him the first time around had the potential to do so again, maybe even more, because she’d realized her feelings for him were the exception, not the rule. He was the only guy who could turn her inside out with one smile.
She didn’t trust him, not completely. But he was inching his way deeper past her defenses, and one day, she’d have to decide whether to wave the white flag or go out in a blaze of glory.
One day. Not today.
“What are you doing after this?” Blake ran one warm, rough hand up her thigh, and her core wept in response.
They’d had enough sex to repopulate an army this past week. You’d think her body would be all tapped out, but no, she was soaking wet in the middle of a barbecue with her friends.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to say ‘you,’” Farrah whispered, tightening the leash on her self-control.
Blake chuckled, his gaze gleaming with lazy male satisfaction. “I see someone has sex on their mind,” he drawled. “I was going to ask if you wanted to hit up the Brooklyn Botanic Garden—there’s a special night exhibit running there through the end of the month—but I’m down for something kinky too.” He paused. “We could do something kinky in the garden. That’ll spice things up.” His fingers hit the edge of her panties beneath the table.
Farrah swallowed and glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Kris and Nate were laughing at something on his phone, Courtney and Nardo were arguing about Black Mirror, and Sammy and Olivia were busy ignoring each other.
“We are not getting kinky in a garden.” She grasped his hand and placed it back in his lap. Her hand brushed his impressive hard-on, and molten lava spilled into her lower belly. “And what do you mean, spice things up? Bored already?”
Blake’s eyes glittered like pristine glacial lakes in the sun. “Never.”
A thick rope of unspoken words stretched between them.
Farrah faked a cough, cutting the cord. “You’re not the garden type. Besides, this sounds like a date.” Dates weren’t part of the deal. They weren’t not part of the deal, but she was too afraid to go down that path yet.
Blake shrugged. “Heard about it from Landon, thought it sounded interesting. Besides, you like gardens, and it’s not a date.”
“It’s not.” Skepticism turned what would’ve been a question into a statement.
“Nope. If it were a date, I’d bring you flowers, not bring you to flowers.”
Farrah burst into laughter, and the grin on Blake’s face widened.
“Here.” Olivia plunked a burger in front of Farrah, interrupting her mirth. “Be grateful I didn’t spit in it.” She frowned at the man sitting next to her roommate. “Blake.”
“Liv.”
Farrah had told her friends about her arrangement with Blake because she didn’t need the added stress of more secrets. Sammy had been thrilled, Kris indifferent, Courtney excited, and Olivia upset. She was the closest to Farrah and, therefore, the most protective. Not to mention, the girl had a memory like a steel trap. Time had smoothed the animosity Kris and Courtney held toward Blake, but Olivia remembered it well. She’d been wary, even after Farrah explained the real reason Blake broke up with her.
Nardo’s eyebrows rose when he saw Blake and Farrah together at Sammy’s opening, but he hadn’t said anything, so Farrah mentally lumped him in the “indifferent” camp.
A doorbell rang deep in the house.
“I’ll get it,” Sammy said. “Nardo, you mind taking over for me real quick?”
“No problem.” Nardo cast a strange look in Olivia’s direction while Sammy went to answer the door.
“Just so you know,” Olivia told Blake. “If you hurt Farrah again, I’ll string you up by your balls and drop you in the middle of an ax-throwing competition.”
Blake’s smile didn’t budge. “Noted. Bonus points for creativity. Your Yale degree is wasted on finance instead of screenwriting.”
Farrah couldn’t resist another laugh as Olivia huffed at Blake’s blasé response.
“I mean it.” Olivia poked a finger at Blake’s chest. “Orgasms only. No heartbreak allowed.”
This time, Blake was the one who laughed while Farrah blanched in horror.
“Liv!”
“Don’t worry,” Blake said, draping an arm over Farrah’s shoulder. “Orgasms are a guarantee, and heartbreak is not on the menu.”
“Who’s guaranteeing orgasms?” Courtney butted into