16

But I’m right.

I’d recognize that smile of his anywhere. The one he reserves for me every morning as he passes me by. West hasn’t even touched me yet, and I’m so wet, it’s embarrassing.

Tilly lets go of Cannon’s hand and says, “Our room or yours?”

I look to Cannon for an answer, but he’s busy eyeing West.

Cannon’s struggling—at least, I think he is. I hate that I can’t get a read on my own husband. But that’s just how he’s been lately. I remind myself that he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be.

“I thought…I mean, I guess I thought we’d talk or something first,” I tell Tilly with a voice full of nerves. “I’ve never—we’ve never done this before.”

“You mean, about the rules?” Tilly questions.

“That’s a good idea,” West says, agreeing with us both. His voice is as sinful as the rest of him. And then he goes and licks his lips, and I almost fall to his feet. “Come sit with us,” he says.

Cannon places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me through the door. His eyes sweep acro