Page 23 of Operation Annulment (Silent Phoenix MC)
She nods, and I resume. “O-okay. I like chicken parmesan—god, I like it—but only if it’s homemade.”
I press a light kiss against her temple. “Good girl. See, that was easy.” Then I press my thumb into her core, teasing her until she cries out.
Kate goes lax on me, and I have to use my right arm to keep her upright. I maneuver us out of the direct spray of the showerhead, and she looks up at me again, her voice hoarse. “What’s your least favorite food? I feel like a wife should know this.”
I smile. “See, this is more of a third-date conversation. Where were we on our third date?”
“Bent over my desk at work, I think.”
I nod. Sounds about right. “Okay, right. Um, what was the question?”
She giggles. “Least favorite food.”
“Right. I fucking hate cilantro, so anything that has cilantro in it is out. Everything else is fair game. What’s yours?”
She thinks it over, and I wait until she opens her mouth to speak before sliding my finger back inside her body. “H-hey, that’s cheating. I didn’t mess with you.”
“You could have. I wasn’t stopping you.”
I lick along her shoulder, loving the way she tastes. I hope like hell that she’ll still be mine in fifty-eight days, but if not, I want to walk away having put my mouth on every square inch of her.
She leans back into me and closes her eyes.
“Katy girl… least favorite food. Go.”
“Uh-huh. Food—okay. You can’t laugh. Promise?”
I laugh. “No promises.”
This is going to be good.
“I cannot stand mashed potatoes. I loathe them?—”
I cut her off. “That’s not funny or weird. A bit anticlimactic…”
She grabs my hand, slowing my movements. “If you just give me a second, I could tell you the rest. I hate mashed potatoes, but I love French fries. Isn’t that strange? ”
The water goes cold, and I shut it off before answering her. “What a freak.”
“Jerk.” She tries to swat at my arm, but I dodge it.
“I’m kidding. That’s not all that odd. It’s a texture thing for you. How do you do with oatmeal?”
“I love it.”
I pop the door open and step out before replying, “That is fucking weird then.” I laugh as I grab a couple of towels, stopping short when her hand connects with my still painfully hard dick.
She applies a little pressure and says sweetly, “Weird. Did I hear you correctly? Weird is what you said, right?”
She squeezes a little tighter, and I’m not sure whether I’m turned on or scared at this point. “I said adorable—adorable. So fucking adorable.”
She loosens her grip but doesn’t let go, and I want the sight of our reflections in the bathroom mirror permanently etched into my memory.
Her pale skin is perfection against my ink. I wonder what she’d look like with a tattoo—maybe a vine running the length of her spine.
She moves her hands up to rest against my hips. “Are we still getting to know each other?”
I nod at her reflection, incapable of using my voice.
“What made you decide to get all of your tattoos? Did you always know you wanted a lot of them?”
I clench my jaw. Her question is too personal because my ex-wife is the reason I have most of them. And that’s sure as hell a conversation I don’t want to have tonight. “Can we skip that one for now?”
She tucks her lower lip between her teeth and nods. I wonder how many men have fallen in love with that mouth—not that I’m in love with her—I just mean that surely someone has been before. She has a nice mouth.
“How many men have you been with before me?”
Excellent job, Nate. Way to steer around the sensitive topics.
Asshole .
Her eyes widen in surprise. She probably wasn’t expecting that. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting that shit to come out of my mouth either.
“Um, pass. Can I pass?”
I turn and pull her into my arms. “Sorry, babe. That was way too personal. Let’s just get to bed.”
She takes the extra towel from my hand and wraps it around herself before leaving the bathroom. I stand in front of the mirror, working to steady my breathing.
Why do I seem to fuck this up at every turn?
I roll my shoulders and run the towel through my hair before slinging it around my waist. She’s already under the covers when I enter the bedroom, facing away from me.
I slip a pair of sweats on before joining her. “Um, I’m an adrenaline junkie.”
She rolls over to face me. “Yeah?”
I nod. “Yeah. I always wanted to be a doctor but wasn’t a big risk taker. Then, I met Jess.”
Her eyes narrow, and I cup her chin in my hand. “You wanted to get to know me. This comes with the territory.”
Kate sighs. “I know. It’s just hard to hear about her.”
“So, my life with Jess was stressful. Even if I hadn’t been in med school, it would have been chaos.
I guess I got conditioned by it, and I began to crave activities that fed that addiction.
Surgery, snowboarding, skydiving, and even getting inked became a big part of my life.
After the divorce, those activities became necessary. ”
She sits up and pulls me into a hug. “I don’t know everything that happened to you, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry she put you through it.”
I pull back and capture her mouth with mine. I don’t do it to be romantic—I do it to avoid spilling my guts to her. I take risks every day, but I’m not willing to gamble if it means I might lose her.
The realization frightens me.
It’s not rational. She’s already been keeping things from me—it’s taken everything not to bring up her dad or sister. I thought I’d broach the subject once Garrett left, but she distracted me with her shower activities.
Maybe she’s just as scared to open up to me as I am with her. I did leave her in our hotel room after she dropped the bombshell about her sister being arrested—which, if Dakota is constantly going around posing as something she’s not, then I’m not a damn bit surprised it landed her in jail.
I’m still trying to piece together how two sisters, who swore to me that they were open books, are so shrouded in mystery.