Going For Gold (Providence Gold 4) - Page 42

The expression on her face was unreadable for a moment, but then she nodded at me and waved her hands for me to start.

Here goes.

“When Parker asked you if it still hurts, you said yes. How bad is it?”

This obviously wasn’t what she’d expected me to start with, but she answered anyway.

Moving her mouth carefully, she said, “Yes, it still hurts.”

Picking up her hand, I pulled her closer to me. “It still hurts, huh? I’ll kiss it better later, how’s that?”

“Hell yes.”

Bursting out laughing, I thought up another question. “What’s your favorite color?”

I was expecting her to say pink or blue, something normal like that, but instead she mouthed, “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a favorite color?” When she shook her head, I put it in the big pile of things I’d tackle later.

“Yours is green, right?”

I wasn’t surprised she’d picked up on that given that my bedroom was painted a pale sage green, my bedding was various shades of the color with white sheets, heck even my curtains and the throw cushions on my couch were green.

Laughing, I nodded and added, “I didn’t decorate or get any of the stuff for my house. Mom and Ariana did.”

Seeing her grinning as she looked around, I suddenly wanted her to feel at home here, too. I got that it was new to both of us, but when the time was right, she was welcome to change whatever she wanted.

“We’re not doing too badly at this, are we? I thought it was going to be hard, but so long as we keep it to short answers, I think we’ve got this.” Reaching out, I plucked the secret notebook out from under her thigh and hid my hand behind my back. “I don’t think we’ll be needing this anymore.”

When she shook her head and tried to reach around me to get it back, I deliberately lay down on the couch, sandwiching it between my back and the cushions.

Picking her up, I positioned her so that she was straddling my lap. “What’s in the notebook, Lottie?”

Her cringe just made that curiosity worse. “Oh, now you’ve got to tell me. Is it a diary? Did you write good things about me?”

“A little.”

Pretending to be hurt, I gasped, “You wrote that I was little?”

This time when she started laughing, a squeak that was only just audible came out, but it was enough. “Holy shit, you said your first word!”

Lying down on top of me, she pressed her lips against mine and pulled away smiling again. I don’t know why, but she suddenly blew out a breath and started carefully mouthing what looked like, “It’s my sex bucket list.”

A million and one – ok, a million and two – possibilities to add to the list hit me just knowing it existed. I wanted to ask if I could go through what she’d written down so far, but I didn’t want to push her too fast so I stayed quiet for as long as I could, thinking up things to add to it instead.

Unfortunately, like with most people when they’re put on the spot, I was drawing a blank aside from two things: Lottie on her hands and knees in front of me while I gripped a handful of her hair, and her on her knees in the shower with her mouth around me.

Clearing my throat to get her attention and shifting my crotch away from her slightly, I rasped, “I’m suddenly seeing the appeal in internet searches.”

More of the little noises came out of her when she laughed, except this time she did it for so long that she ended up holding her throat and wiping away a couple of tears.

Just as she started to settle down, my sister saved her from the other questions I had to ask about her little naughty book wanting to take Lottie out for a drink with the rest of the women tonight.

“We’re pausing this conversation here, baby, but it’s not over by any means,” I warned her as we put our coats on. “I’ll be doing my own internet searches, so think about that while you’re out with the girls.”Chapter ElevenCharlotte“Ok, if I remove my brother as being the other performer in this equation, I think I can add to your list,” Ariana decided, her hand loosely holding her glass of wine now.

It had started off as the women meeting up for ‘a drink’, and had quickly turned into a merging of souls over the age old bonding by alcohol.

I’d been nervous about drinking anything that would set my throat on fire, especially with noises starting to come out of it, but then someone had suggested Baileys with ice and that was it. It was better than painkillers, better than warm drinks, but definitely not as good as the sex last night had been for it.

Tags: Mary B. Moore Providence Gold Romance
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