No strings attached.
It’s not what I really want, but it’s all he has to offer. He’s filled with turmoil and heartache and regrets, but for two hours every Wednesday all he feels is me. How much I desire him, how desperate he makes me, how much I’d like things to be different between us. Real.
He used to be my best friend back before he got married. And now? Now, he’s a young widower. It would be wrong on so many levels to expect something more from him, so I give him what he needs.
But I know I can’t keep this up. I’ve already given him my body, my soul. I want him to have my heart. It might drive him away forever, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.
Wednesday is an angsty stand-alone told from dual points of view. If you’re in the mood for something quick and dirty, you’ve found it. Proceed at your own risk.
“Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak
“Champagne Supernova” by Oasis
“Mountain at My Gates” by Foal
“Adventure of a Lifetime” by Coldplay
“Flake” by Jack Johnson
“Lovesong” by the Cure
“Big Girls Cry” by Sia
“Beast of Burden” by the Rolling Stones
“Burning Photographs” by Ryan Adams
“It’s almost like you were waiting for me.” He treated me to a rare devilish grin.
The ass. Of course I was waiting for him. I gave his chest a playful shove, but rather than it pushing him away, he stepped closer, crossing the threshold to invade my space. And my heart kicked up speed in anticipation.
He was my drug. Bold. Intoxicating. Addictive.
“How was your day?” I asked, trying to keep things light.
He gave me a panty-melting grin, and that was when I knew there wouldn’t be any pleasantries tonight. I guess I wasn’t surprised. He’d tried to fuck me in his office a couple days ago, totally taking me by surprise. He must be particularly wound up.
“My day was fine, Sunshine. Now, come here.”
He offered me his hand, and I took it. Sliding his grasp around my wrist, he tugged me close so I was right up flush against his chest. I wondered if he could feel the pounding rhythm of my heart. His own heartbeat was steady and calm.
“You teased me the other day,” he said, trailing one fingertip down the side of my cheek.
“Wearing that little sundress. I wanted to hike it up your thighs and watch you ride my face.”
I shivered in his arms. “If you expect me to say sorry, I’m not.”
He chuckled darkly. “As long as you understand I’m going to make up for it tonight.”
About the Author
She's a sassy, yet polite Midwestern girl with a deep love of books, and a slight addiction to lipgloss. She lives in Minneapolis with her adorable husband and two baby sons, and enjoys hiking, being active, and reading.
Visit her at: www.kendallryanbooks.com for the latest book news, and fun extras