Page 21

Vivienne

"Soon enough," I rant under my breath, my forehead falling to the desk in front of me with a thump. "Make me a list."

What the hell was I thinking? What the hell was he thinking? He really wants me to write out all the ways I want him to make me come? The other night could have been luck. There's no guarantee that he can do it again.

Chemistry can fizzle--

Who am I kidding? Nothing is going to fizzle. He lit a fire inside me and I don't think anything can put it out.

But a list. I can't do that. "Can I?"

I must look unhinged, talking to myself alone in my office.

"Are we interrupting something?" Indie asks, stepping into my doorway.

Heat rushes to my cheeks.

Jesus, Vi. Get a grip.

And I almost do . . . until Lara pokes her head in.

"You're as red as a tomato."

I wave them in wordlessly. The list has me so caught up that I lost track of time before our meeting. That's not my style.

And we've worked together long enough for them to recognize when something's seriously off. I'm always composed, professional--hell, even when I'm taking arrogant Bandits down a peg, I do it with poise. That version of me is nowhere to be found right now.

Lara pulls the door closed behind the two of them.

Xavier's back on the road and I've had the condo to myself for days with plenty of time to write the list, but I haven't been able to bring myself to do it. Lara and Indie exchange matching looks of concern as they watch me stand from my desk and pace to the window. I'm not ashamed of what Xavier and I are doing, but telling them about our agreement feels very personal. Harlowe is the only person I'd trust with this, but she's unreachable because she's in the backcountry for training.

I bite my thumbnail, turn away from their amused faces, and take another lap across my office.

"Dean's going to be really annoyed when he gets home from New York and finds out he has to replace this carpet," Lara teases.

"You guys are going to think I'm crazy," I huff, sounding as resigned as I feel.

"I doubt that," Lara says.

"Remember the teensy problem that we talked about at the gala?" I start, my stomach flipping anxiously.

"The one where no one has ever given you an orgasm." Indie lays it out there, not an ounce of hesitation.

I drop back into the desk chair, looking anywhere but at the two women sitting across from me. "That's the one."

"Oh, honey," Lara says sweetly. This is new information for her. She was at the gala, but seated at her father's table and I'm sure the mayor and his guests weren't talking about the wonders of athlete-induced orgasms.

"Xavier offered to help me."

When neither of them speaks, I lift my head from the pen I'm playing with. Indie sits there, gaping at me, and Lara has one perfect eyebrow arched.

"I'm going to need one of you to say something."

It's Indie that speaks first. "I'm so damn proud of you."

"When do we get to the crazy part because so far I'm not seeing a problem? The hot daddy wants to give you orgasms. Sounds like a solid plan," Lara says.

Indie drops into the chair next to Lara and I blow out a ragged breath. Having this conversation in my office with these two, who are technically here in a professional capacity, is out of character.

Lara, ever perceptive, leans forward and rubs my forearm. "We're friends first. Anything you tell us stays within the circle of trust. Our meeting doesn't officially start until this conversation is over."

Something's got to give. The tension inside me is unbearable.

They're offering to listen, and maybe it'll help. I've been distracted, completely unlike myself. I let out another shaky breath and begin, starting with his visit to my office. They listen intently as I explain how he found me in the hallway, wearing his shirt, the rules we set, everything.

"He wants me to make an orgasm wish list."

"And he was able to give you one already?" Lara asks.

"Well, technically, I gave it to myself, but I've never been able to do that with someone else . . . So, yeah."

"Why do you think it was so easy with him?" Indie asks, her voice calm but pointed. The question hits me like a punch to the chest. I've been going over the same thing a thousand times and I'm not sure I'm ready to face the answer.

I swallow hard and force the words out before I can second guess them. "I've been thinking about that a lot, actually," I admit, my voice quieter now. "And I think it's because . . . he's the first man I've ever let myself have an emotional connection with--ever."

"A lot of women need that connection to enjoy sex," Lara says, making it sound much less daunting.

"Now that I've had a glimpse of what sex can be like, it's all I can think about. The man has turned me into a wanton hussy who can't focus on anything else." I lean back in my chair, exhaling dramatically. "I've never cared this much about sex, but the anticipation is making me all kinds of crazy."

"There's only one solution for that," Indie says with a smirk.

At the same time, Lara leans in. "Make the damn list."

Their eagerness on my behalf makes me laugh despite myself. "Like now?" I reply, throwing my hands up.

"Yes! Open up the notes app and start typing. You can send it to him tonight," Lara suggests.

"I like this. It's perfect--you get your homework done, and tonight, when you send him the list, you get phone sex."

"She's right. There's no way you don't get an orgasm from the man after sending him a text that dirty."

"I've never done anything like this before."

"Good thing you've got help." Indie wiggles her eyebrows.

Lara pushes my phone toward me. "Unless you prefer paper and pen for your lists."

"Not for this one." A giggle bubbles out of me. I swipe the phone off the desk. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"The basics have to go on there," Lara starts.

"And you already crossed off dry humping," Indie adds.

"Then there are the obvious ones. Fingers, mouth, penetration."

"I'm not writing penetration."

"Do you prefer fucking?"

I add penetrative sex below the first two.

"Do I include other things on here? Like places?"

"Why the hell not? It's a wish list. If you've ever fantasized about it, add it," Lara encourages.

"It's not like he's going to hold you to it if you change your mind," Indie says.

"I know this is your list, but I love giving as much as receiving," Lara adds.

I put it on the list because the idea of making Xavier lose it is as appealing as anything else we've talked about.

"Um, I think I'm going to finish this later," I say, turning my face down on the desk. It's suddenly too hot in here.

Both Lara and Indie laugh.

"Yeah, you are," Indie teases.

Hours later I'm working on a grant, in bed, because I spent too much of my morning socializing, when Harlowe texts me for an update. On the bright side, even though I'm behind on work, I'm not half as anxious as I was this morning.

Harlowe:

I'm back in civilization and I need an update. Have you seen the hot baseball player with the nice ass again?

Vivi:

No, but I did make a list of all the things I want him to do to me . . . while at work today.

Harlowe:

Scandalous.

Vivi:

Not helping.

Harlowe:

How kinky did you get?

Vivi:

Um . . . I don't know. A few shades darker than vanilla.

Harlowe:

Tell me you put spanking or breath play on there.

Vivi:

Stop it.

Harlowe:

Awe. Do you like that idea a little too much?

Vivi:

I hate you. I have to send him this and he's going to rethink his decision.

Harlowe:

I doubt that.

Hyping myself up, I set aside my computer and take all the advice offered to me today.

I delete and retype three different greetings before I finally settle on using awkward humor to break the ice.

Vivi:

Hey, teach.

Xavier:

I was wondering when I'd hear from you. Did you do your homework?

The heat rises in my cheeks and I roll over in my bed, burying my face in a pillow. It doesn't matter that he can't see me, he's got me hot with just a text.

Vivi:

I did.

Xavier:

Send it to me.

Vivi:

[Vivi's Orgasm Wish List Attached]

I press my phone to my chest, heart galloping. It buzzes against my chest, his name flashing on the screen. I answer, breathless, and there he is--leaning against the headboard, his tousled red hair and smoldering blue eyes making my flush deepen. He's shirtless, mostly out of view, but the hint of his toned body is enough to send a thrill through me.

His voice is scratchy, sounding as ready for bed as he looks. "Damn, Vi. You look so pretty it hurts."

I glance down. There's nothing overly sexy about the pajamas I'm wearing--tiny flowers dot the cream set. The ribbed tank top is a thicker, fitted material that gives the girls a little support, but it's not lingerie by any stretch of the imagination. The matching bottoms have slits up the side that keep them from being restrictive. "It's just--these aren't--"

His gaze narrows to a pointed glare, cutting my words off. "Don't brush off my compliments. I'm a single dad to a newborn. Extra energy is in short supply and I'm sure as hell not going to use it to say things I don't mean. So when I tell you that you look like a fucking dream, believe me."

"Thank you," I breathe out, sinking into bed, my head falling back against the pillows.

"I wasn't sure if you'd make the list."

I laugh at the irony of that statement. "The little assignment you gave me has been all I can think about."

"I'd apologize for your suffering, but I'm not sorry." There's heat in his stare when he adds, "Should we open this list together?"

I groan because that might be more than I can handle. "Really?"

"You're not shy about asking for what you want outside the bedroom. Channel that same energy here. I know you can."

"Okay," I say, faking confidence. "Open it."

I wait for a second as he opens the text I sent him.

"Fuck." There's a desperation in his tone that's so unlike him. I've seen him when he's on edge before, but it's always been about his daughter. This is a different kind of urgency, and it tugs at the thread of need between us that's so tight after the last few days. "This list, sweetheart . . ."

"Is it too much?"

"I've been walking around half hard since I made you come in my hallway. My teammates think I'm snorting little blue pills for fun. This list could be a mile long and it wouldn't be too much."

His vehement speech gives me the courage to tell him about this morning. "Lara and Indie know about us. They helped me get started on the list."

"Tell whoever you want--there's no shame in what we're doing. Personally, the more people who know you're off-limits, the happier I am. But I promised to take my cues from you, so I am." His eyes rake over me, making my skin hot.

"This road trip was really inconvenient. When do you get home?"

"Three more days." He rubs his knuckles along his jaw as he watches me. Even over the phone, his attention elicits a riot of goosebumps. "It's too damn long. I don't want to wait to hear your sexy little whimpers. Let me help you cross something off tonight."

Just the rasp in his voice has the heavy heartbeat thrumming between my legs. Having someone dead set on giving me pleasure is unfamiliar territory for me.

There is only one we can cross off tonight. "You want to have phone sex?"

"Don't you? Isn't that why it's on the list?"

"Yes," I croak. Indie's words stuck with me and I added it when I got home, along with a few other things.

"How do you want to come tonight? Will it be on your fingers as you imagine they're mine? Or do you have a toy you want to use like it's my cock?"

"Fingers," I say, surprising myself. Normally I'd reach for my trusty vibrator, but there's something carnal about being able to feel what he would.

Xavier's groan shoots straight to my core, flickering through me like he's right beside me. "Fuck, you're such a filthy girl and no one's ever taken care of you the way you need. But that ends now. You're going to touch yourself and teach me everything you need to get there. When you unravel, I want my name on your lips."

The mouth on this man is everything I didn't know I'd been missing. He's so damn sure of himself. "I can see you're not lacking any confidence tonight."

"Only because I'm determined. Sleep is overrated. I have no problem spending all night talking you through it, if that's what it takes."

Yeah, I don't think that's going to be a problem. Knowing how motivated he is to learn what I like has flipped a switch in me. No one else has ever put in a fraction of the effort he's talking about.

But oh god, where do I start. Verbalizing something so intimate is new to me.

"I'm not sure how to do this," I admit quietly. "Help me get started . . . please?"