Chapter 7
Melody
This evening is surreal. Every part of it. I’ve told this man more than I’ve ever told another human being. I don’t know what possesses me to keep talking, but something about him makes me feel comfortable and safe.
Watching him cook makes me squirm. And that’s new for me, too. No one has ever made me squirm. I’m well aware that it’s strange for me to be a twenty-eight-year-old virgin who writes spicy scenes for a living. I get it. But I have my convictions, and I’ve stuck to them.
Brody makes me squirm like the heroines in my books.
It’s hard to deny that fact. I write about it, but I’ve never actually believed people did it in real life.
I’m aware of a few other clichés, too. My panties are wet.
Yep, that’s a real thing. And my nipples have been hard since about the time he buckled me into his truck.
He hasn’t blatantly stared at my chest, but I know he can’t miss the puckered buds because I’m not wearing a bra.
It didn’t go with this dress. Plus, I rarely wear a bra.
My boobs aren’t that large, plus bras are uncomfortable.
When I’m working at home, no one is going to see me, so why would I wear something uncomfortable?
I love living in such a warm climate. I get up every day, put on yoga pants and a tank top, and spend the day having wasted no time on my appearance.
I shift my attention back to the giant salad on the island.
It has all the ingredients I purchased myself, so it shouldn’t be any different than if I had been the one cutting up the veggies.
But somehow it is. It looks like a work of art.
Brody has even quietly dug around in my spice cabinet and put together a homemade salad dressing with a red wine vinegar and olive oil base.
The salmon is now in the oven, as well as a small loaf of French bread.
My mouth is watering, and my cottage smells amazing.
There’s only a two-person table in my little kitchen, and Brody sets it while he tells me about his work in San Antonio.
He also informs me that he is in town to manage the buildings owned by the Wilde Corporation.
He has an employee and good friend coming to oversee the renovations needed at the mansion.
Haden. I’ve heard that name before from the wives or maybe his sister.
I have not lifted a single finger, and maybe I should feel guilty for sitting and watching, but I don’t. I feel pampered.
Brody pulls out a chair and motions with a flourish of his hand. “Come, little pixie.”
I giggle and hop down from my perch to join him. “More like a princess. I’ve changed my mind about sending you home after dinner. If you plan to start cooking all my meals, you’re welcome to stay.”
He scoots me in and then bends over to kiss my shoulder, trailing a path of romance-novel-worthy nibbles up to my ear. “Baby, I was never going to leave, and I’ll gladly make you breakfast.”
I shudder as he turns and walks away. He’s back seconds later with more food than I would think two people could eat, but the man is huge, so it’s possible he eats four times more than me. Plus, he obviously works out every day. No one has muscles like that without pumping a lot of iron.
He even serves me, filling my plate with just about the right amount.
“I think I’m dreaming,” I admit as I pick up my fork.
He snickers. “It’s all part of my plan. Lure you in with food.”
I take a bite and moan around the flavor. The salmon definitely tastes better than anything I’ve ever made. Must be the spices.
Brody has his fork midair, halfway to his mouth, but he pauses and stares at me. “Woman, if you make that sound while you eat, we’ll never get enough nutrition to stay alive.”
I bat my eyes at him, deliberately flirtatious. It’s a side of me I’ve never known before and didn’t realize I was capable of. “If you fuck the way you kiss, I won’t care whether we eat or not.”
He drops his fork with a loud clank, reaches for the leg of my chair, and hauls it around the corner of the table so that he can lean into my face. His palm comes to the side of my head, and his lips are on me a second later.
This kiss is nothing like the first. It’s primal, desperate. He groans deeply into my mouth as he devours me, taking me out of my body until I’m floating. I can’t focus on anything but his lips on mine, his tongue delving into my mouth, his hand holding my cheek.
When he suddenly releases my lips, it’s not because he’s done kissing me. Not even close. I gasp as he threads his fingers in my hair at the back of my neck and tugs my head back. My mouth drops open as his lips move to kiss my neck and around to my ear. He growls, making me tremble.
His path moves lower until his mouth is on my chest, traveling toward the neckline of my sundress. He nuzzles there, dipping into my cleavage before yanking back to stare at me.
He’s still holding my head hostage. His pupils are dilated, and his chest is heaving. “Forty-five years I’ve waited for you.”
I swallow. “I wasn’t even born until you were seventeen.”
“Doesn’t matter. I was waiting.”
It would seem he’s right. I was, too.
He takes a deep breath and releases me, scooting my chair back to my place setting. “Eat, naughty girl. Stop tempting me.” He points at my food.
My hands are shaking as I pick up my fork, and I find myself drawing forth an inner siren as I hold his gaze and seductively lift a bite of salad to my lips. I make a production out of tormenting him as I chew and swallow.
He stares for a minute and then pulls himself together and smirks. “I hope you have the sort of desk you can raise so you can write your books standing.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Because most days, your bottom is going to be too sore to sit.” He takes a bite and continues eating as if he just told me the weather report for the week instead of insinuating he intends to spank me often.
My face heats, which annoys me because I can’t hide my physical reactions from Brody. He’ll always know when I’m embarrassed. Dammit.
He points at my plate with his fork. “Eat, little pixie.”
I do as I’m told, even though part of me feels like it might be more fun to defy him, just to see what he’ll do. I’m beyond intrigued by the idea of getting spanked. Lord knows I’ve written my share of spanking scenes in books. But I’ve never experienced it.
For a while, I considered visiting a club and finding someone to demonstrate as many implements as possible on me so I’d know what they felt like, but I always chickened out.
Instead, I’ve relied on videos and lots of written research.
I have three sensitivity readers who are in the lifestyle, and they’ve let me know when I need to tweak a scene, but more often than not, they praise my work.
They’re impressed by how well I can create the impression that I have experience.
We don’t say much while we finish our meal, which is probably for the best. Every time one of us speaks, our words are so filled with sexual innuendo that it’s difficult to chew and swallow.
Mostly it’s me. This new Melody who came out to play today for the first time. I’ve never met her and had no idea she existed.
Also, for the first time in my life, I feel like throwing caution to the wind and letting someone into my body. It’s the first time I’ve come anywhere close to feeling this horny. I should seize the opportunity and take this man to my bed.
He insinuated he would not have sex with me tonight, but surely he was just being polite. At the time, I was in a panic, nowhere close to considering taking my clothes off with a man, any man. But I’m not the same woman I was before dinner.
We clean the kitchen together, loading the dishwasher and washing the larger pans. It’s so domestic and comfortable. As if we’ve done this a hundred times and fully intend to do it a million more in the future.
I ponder that possibility. He keeps telling me I’m his. He’s so cocky and sure of himself. But can it be real? People don’t actually meet in real life and fall in love within seconds.
Except, the Wilde heirs do. Three of them have in the past two months.
Could I be the fourth Wilde wife?
I’m nervous and fidgety as we put the last pan away, but Brody immediately backs me up to the counter, cups my face, and kisses me again. “Mmm,” he hums into my mouth. “Seems like weeks since I last tasted you.”
I grab his biceps and rise onto my tiptoes, meeting his kiss more passionately than I was capable of the first two times.
His hands come to the small of my back, and he holds me firmly against him. With our height difference, his erection presses against my ribs. It feels ridiculously large. Surely my vivid imagination is conjuring up the image.
Brody growls as he pulls away. “You’re going to marry me.”
I stare at him. He’s probably right. But it’s so fast.
He spins us both around, lifts me by the waist, and sets me on the island.
We’re closer to eye-to-eye in this position.
His hands are on my hips. “I thought my cousins were batshit out of their minds when I arrived to find them getting married left, right, and center. My brother, too. But it’s contagious.
I want what they have. I want my ring on your finger and my child growing in your womb. ”
I shudder. “Maybe we should revisit that in about six months,” I half joke.
He shakes his head, not laughing at all. “We’re not waiting that long. You’ll cave soon.”
I cock my head to one side. “What makes you so sure?”
He tugs me forward and sets his lips on my ear. “Because I’m not going to let you have my cock until we’re married.”
I gasp. I’m pretty sure this is what Claire, Reagan, and Arianna were also faced with. “Why would you do that?” I mutter.
“Because it’s effective,” he says against my ear.
He nuzzles my neck. “Your pulse is racing. I suspect your pussy is soaked and needy. All I have to do is make you feel like this night and day until you give in.” He threads one hand with mine, leans back, and brings his lips to my ring finger.
“A diamond belongs right here.” He kisses my knuckle.
My head is spinning. He’s serious.
I shake out the cobwebs so I can pose a few more problems. “You said you’re not staying in Wilde.”
“So, you’ll go with me to San Antonio.”
I slowly shake my head. “No. I like it here. This is my home. It’s the first real home I’ve ever had. I like the people. They like me. I live here, Brody.” Why am I arguing with this man about where we’ll live after we’re married? Madness.
Brody blinks. I don’t think he expected this resistance.