Barrett’s already got dinner served, peppercorn steak with broccolini and mushroom risotto. When I struggle to cut the steak up, he does it for me.
After dinner, I settle into the couch in the study. Baxter normally sits next to me, but I can tell the nails are freaking him out. Me, too, buddy.
I expect Barrett to move toward his desk, but instead he joins me on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand.
A few minutes go by and I have to close my book, my hands are cramping from holding my fingers awkwardly. I close my eyes and sigh.
“The nails are because of me and the deal with Fred and our arrangement. How can I make you feel better?”
“Build a time machine and take us to Friday.”
He smirks. “Time travel isn’t my specialty. Anything else?”
The way he says it, followed by the heated look he gives me reminds me of what I said in his office earlier when I was under duress.
“I’m not putting orgasms on my list,” I say.
“Why not?” Barrett asks.
“Because I’m not going to force you to pleasure me. That would be weird.” My face is already heating at the thought.
“Chloe, you wouldn’t be forcing anything. I want to fuck you with my fingers.”
My gaze moves to where Barrett is slowly rotating his wine glass on the arm of the couch. His fingers pinching the stem, twisting it slowly.
“And my tongue,” he adds.
I’m speechless.
“Maybe I’ll put it on my list,” he says.
“You don’t have a list,” I argue.
“Maybe I’ll make one.” He stands and walks over to his desk.
“You can’t do that.”
“Eating Chloe’s pussy whenever I want.” He pulls a piece of paper out of his desk and starts writing with a pen.
I don’t know whether to laugh or melt into a puddle on the floor. I’m so turned on right now, but also completely intimidated thinking about doing anything sexual with Barrett. Do I want it? Yes. Could Barrett think I’m the most awkward, inexperienced woman he’s ever been with? Absolutely. And that freaks me out.
A minute later he hands me the paper with his writing on it.
I shake my head. Resistance appears to be my kink. Hearing Barrett tell me what he wants to do to me is hot, and teasing us both only serves to turn me on more. “I’m not signing that.”
Barrett nods, but I can tell he’s frustrated. Trust me. I am, too. I’m basically cock blocking myself. Suddenly, he shoots to his feet to grab his phone off the coffee table.
“Have you played WordIt today?” he asks.
I lift my hands up. “I can barely hold onto my phone. No, I haven’t played.”
“We’ll play for it. First person to solve today’s WordIt gets to decide.”
“Decide what?” I ask.
“If I get to put my mouth on you.” He says it so casually, like he’s offering to open a door for me.
I laugh. I’m amazing at WordIt. There’s no way in hell Barrett will win.
“Are you good with the rules?” he asks. “Whichever way this goes, you’re good?”
I bite my lip, thinking. Do I want Barrett to put his head between my thighs? Yes. Do I like that he’d have to earn it by beating me at a game that I kick ass at? Double yes.
“Yes.” I nod, then clicking my fingers together nervously, I remember why we’re doing this in the first place. “How am I supposed to play?”
Barrett grabs an iPad off his desk that has a stylus. It’s better than me trying to tap the phone with my nails.
“First person to solve today’s word gets to decide.” I can feel the waves of excitement rolling off Barrett. Either he’s excited to compete or he’s excited about the prize. Me. I gulp. No, this is fine. I’m going to win so I don’t even need to think about it.
“In the event of a time tie, person with the fewest guesses wins.”
“Fine,” I say, determined the winner will be me. I pull up the website for the game. Barrett does it, too.
We share one last glance and I can see it there in Barrett’s eyes. Determination. My stomach flips with nervous anticipation. I want to win, but part of me wants Barrett to win, too.
“Ready. Go,” he says.
“You didn’t say set.” I argue, but Barrett is already typing away on his phone. Shit. I think of a word that uses common letters.
SPEAK
The letters flip and everything is gray, meaning I didn’t get any letters right.
I pick another word, making sure to not use any of the previous letters.