Page 55 of Wicked Rush

“Really? So you’re telling me I haven’t lived?”

“Jump out of a plane with me. Feel the wind. That, Doctor, that exhilaration, it makes you appreciate being alive.”

“Lars.” She smiled, licking her lips. “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. I know tonight I was, well, it was unconventional. But I don’t do heights.”

“You might like it. We could go rock climbing.”

“What is it with you? Don’t you like living? You could die.”

“Sure I could, but it’s a calculated risk. And sometimes…” Lars trailed his fingers over her hip, onto her inner thigh. Her chest rose in arousal, and he continued his lesson. “Take skydiving. I’m less likely to die jumping out of a plane than hang gliding. Base jumping? Far more dangerous. Rock climbing? There’s far less risk of death than base jumping…well, unless you’re doing Everest.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re insane?” she responded.

“Many times.” He laughed, giving a broad smile. “Perhaps deserved. But this isn’t about being rational. It’s about taking life by the balls, not the other way around. It doesn’t matter if you’re flat broke or are a millionaire. No, it’s all about perspective.”

“If you have nothing, how are you supposed to do the things you do?” she challenged.

“Ever jumped off a cliff into the churning ocean? Surfed before the break of dawn? There are plenty of people, some at Altura, who aren’t even close to being rich, but they’re living. They’re experiencing. Savoring life. You fuck the rules and do what you want. Be happy with what you have. Be present.” Lars glanced to the burgundy essence in his glass, “Take this wine. It’s two hundred dollars a bottle.”

“Holy shit.” She choked. “I’m sorry, I just picked a red off the rack in the kitchen and opened it. I had no idea it cost so much.”

“No, worries. It’s not about that. You did good. It goes great with pasta. I keep the more expensive ones in the cellar anyway.”

“But…”

“Brae…it’s not about the cost. You’re missing my point. It’s not about the cost. It’s about perspective.” He held the wine up to the light. “I can drink it properly, smell its bouquet. Taste the notes of berries. Observe the legs. Sip it slowly, savoring the flavor. Now I’m not saying all that fancy shit isn’t worth doing. But I have a beautiful woman in front of me, so it’s not about the wine per se.” Lars moved closer and dipped his fingers into his glass. Withdrawing them, he brought them to her lips. “We can play. Break whatever notions society has set for us.” He slid his thumb over her parted mouth. Blood rushed to his cock as her tongue darted out over his fingertip. He took a deep breath and continued, his voice low and soft. “The wine, it tastes even more brilliant than ever. You’ve let go. And fuck if I’m not enjoying the feel of your sweet little mouth.”

As he removed his hand, she licked her lips. “I can think of other things I’d like to pair with that wine.”

Braelynn squealed as he slowly tilted his glass, the red liquid flowing over her breast. A stream ran down her stomach.

“Lars…” she said, stilling so as not to spill the wine onto the carpet.

“Tonight, Brae, how about we see how far we can go?” Lars never broke eye contact as his mouth lowered to the swell of her breast. Warmth radiated from her skin, and his cock stiffened as his lips brushed over her sensitive peak.

Something about the lovely doctor drove him to test her boundaries. Over a lifetime, he’d taken risks, yet with Braelynn, he played with fire. Introducing her into his erotic world sent his adrenaline soaring. Keep her forever, his heart told him. She’s leaving, his mind argued. In this moment, none of it mattered. They’d enjoy each other, and he’d deal with the consequences in the morning.

His tongue darted out over her nipple, lapping the wine off her skin. Circling her areola, he licked and kissed his way down toward her belly. His mouth hovered above her hip. As he gently bit at her flesh, she cried his name.

The sound of her pleading voice turned his dick to concrete. Jesus, no woman had ever made him so fucking stiff. As his shaft rammed against the constraining fabric of his shorts, he thought he’d come. He shucked them off, and his cock sprang free. Lifting his head, he sucked a deep breath, composing himself.

She sighed, her heavy-lidded eyes gazing at him. As she brought her fingertips to her mouth, Lars thought he’d lose it. But with the careful restraint he’d honed over the years, he simply let his eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her creamy skin.

“And so you want me to experience?” she breathed, her palm falling to her breast.

“Experiences are special. Like snowflakes, each is unique. Unforgettable. Beautiful.”

“But snowflakes melt. Disappear forever.”

“True, but it’s the moments in time that count. We can never capture a memory. You can take a picture. A video. But that feeling inside your chest, the one you felt when your heart was pounding? Fear. Excitement.”

“And what memories are we making tonight?”

“We watched fireworks. Made some of our own.” His fingers brushed over her hip, teasing her skin. “We ate a meal.”

“True, but it wasn’t at all what I expected.”

“Better than what you expected? That is the question.”