Page 29 of One More Night

“What’s normal anyway?” I shrug. “Normal is boring, safe, pre-defined. Normal is being dead while you’re still alive.” I move in front of her and set my hands on her hips, hoisting her to the counter.

She balances her wine to one side, allowing me to step between her spread legs.

“Do you want to be normal?”

“I hadn’t really thought all that hard on it, to be honest.” She turns her head to the side to sip her drink.

“You like the safe, predictable route?” I lean in and kiss the exposed part of her throat.

“Most days.”

“Why?”

A shiver jerks her body as I nip at the peek of her collarbone, visible from beneath her blouse. “It’s easy to manage.”

“Do you feel fulfilled though?” I continue to kiss a path to her ear where I bite the lobe. She smells sweet, yet with a hint of something more erotic.

“Fulfilled, how? As in, my bills are paid and I have a loving family?”

“As in—” I pull back to look her in the eye “—you don’t feel the need to dream of another life, to wonder what if, to seek something more.”

Her gaze drops to my throat. “No. I’m not fulfilled.”

“So why be normal, then?” Her blouse bunches beneath my palm, hand skimming over the soft flesh of her waist. “Why not step outside the box and live a little?”

“Is that what you do?” She raises an eyebrow in challenge.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“You’ll know when you need to.”

“I need to know now.” She takes another cocky swig of wine.

“No. You don’t.”

“I disagree.” Her eyes narrow; the slightest tilt of her chin shows challenge. “You want me, you need to be honest with me.”

“I am.” I tighten my grip on her waist, reminding her who’s in charge.

She doesn’t flinch.

“I haven’t lied to you once.”

“Really?”

I shake my head, caressing the skin below her bra with my thumb. “Nope. Merely omitted to tell you what I don’t need you to know.”

“So it’s not that you don’t want me to know?” She narrows her gaze, seemingly unaffected by my gentle exploration of her abdomen.

“It’s that you’re not ready to know.”

“Hmm.” The last of her wine slides down her throat with ease before she sets the glass aside. “When will I be?”

“When I tell you that you are.”

“Cryptic.”