yet always a gentleman.
Those more gallant, honorable qualities had their time and place, but just as men preferred a lady in public and a whore in private, Jill had come to the conclusion that she wanted a rake and a libertine in the bedroom, and all of the down and dirty, risqué acts that came with her husband being an assertive, demanding lover. And in order to get what she desired, she had to ask for it. Demand it. Take it as her due as Dean’s wife.
His gaze met hers, and while his body was relaxed, there was a slight crease between his brows that told her he was analyzing the situation, and her. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking, because he was good at hiding his feelings and emotions. She wanted that to change, too.
“Come here,” he said, and held his hand out to her.
Placing her fingers in his warm palm, she let him pull her toward him and guide her so that she was sitting across his lap. He wrapped one arm around her waist and settled his other hand on her thigh, exposed by the opening slit of her dress. His touch was hot but gentle, as was the look in his eyes as he met her gaze.
“Care to tell me what that was all about?” he asked.
His tone was curious, and Jill knew this is where everything was about to change. That being open and honest with him would either make their relationship stronger, or break their marriage. Depending on how he viewed her bold request.
“I thought it was obvious,” she said with a flirty smile. “It was all about putting some spontaneity into our sex life.”
He arched a dark brow. “You’ve never been impulsive.”
True. She was more practical by nature, having been raised by conservative, wealthy parents who always had a plan for everything . . . including their daughter’s future, which hadn’t included Jillian getting pregnant at the age of seventeen by a defiant, rebellious boy from the very low income, and rough neighborhood on the outskirts of Austin, Texas. She’d been the quintessential good girl, until Dean and all his arrogance and swagger had coaxed her to take a walk on the wild side with him.
He’d been so mysterious and exciting, yet incredibly sweet and gentle with her, and it hadn’t taken long for the two of them to fall in love. Even as a teenager, he’d faced his responsibilities like a man, including his commitment to her and their unborn child.
Though her parents had insisted Jillian put their baby up for adoption, she’d refused and married Dean on her eighteenth birthday at the local courthouse—just five days before he left for Navy basic training. And that’s when she’d learned to finely hone those practical, sensible qualities, because she was now a wife and months later, a mother to a baby boy.
Their second son arrived fifteen months later, and with Dean serving an eight year term as a Navy SEAL, being impulsive was something that hadn’t really fit into their lives for the past nineteen years.
Now it did.
“Having two grown boys always running around the house, along with their friends, made spontaneity difficult,” she admitted. “But now that they’re both gone, maybe it’s time to shake things up . . . and try new things.”
He frowned, and she could see the glimmer of concern in his gaze. “Are you unhappy?”
“With us, as a couple?” She shook her head adamantly and placed her palm against his jaw in reassurance, liking the slight stubble already forming there. “No. I love you, Dean. More now than ever.”
The worry in his eyes ebbed, and she continued. “I just sometimes think that with us getting married at such a young age that you and I haven’t been able to explore other things to enhance our sex life.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, enough to tell Jillian that she’d captured his interest. “Define other things,” he said.
“Being impulsive, like today in your office, instead of both of us crawling into bed at night, exhausted and doing the same old thing,” she said, injecting a bit of teasing into her voice. “Making love with you is always amazing, but you have to admit it’s become very . . . routine, and vanilla.”
“Vanilla, huh?” There was no disagreement in his tone, just speculation of the word she’d used to describe their current sex life. “So, what would you call what just happened here in my office?”
She grinned. “A