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“Tomorrow’s a million years away. I need you today. Now.”
Jaysus H.
I checked the time on my phone. My hands, I noticed vaguely, were shaking. It was nine in the morning. But he was right, tomorrow felt decades away. “Lunch,” I said. “I can come at lunch. No sooner.”
“I might die before then.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
He laughed softly. “My brothers used to say that about me you know? That I was dramatic.”
“You are.”
“Are you on birth control, firecracker?”
I gaped. “What?”
“Are you?”
I swallowed. “Yes,” I whispered. I was on the pill, though I realized right then that I’d forgotten to take one today. I’d have to stop back off at home before… before making them useful by continuing my torrid affair with this demanding, painfully sexy billionaire.
“Good. Because if I have to wait that long, I want to make sure you feel me filling you, Winona. With nothing between us. Nothing.”
I closed my eyes after he hung up, leaning against the wall and not caring that I looked like I was going to pass out. I was going to pass out. Either that or I was going to throw everything away and run to him right this minute.
I could feel him on me, as if he were right there. I was on fire for him. And for just the briefest moment, I didn’t care who knew.
Mitchell was waiting for me at noon on the dot, just inside his front door. He leaned against the wall, arms folded, wearing nothing but a white towel slung low on his hips.
My stomach swooped as I took in the ridged length of his torso. Water still clung to his skin.
“I showered for you,” he said.
“I’m so proud,” I laughed, but the laugh died out. There was no question what we were about to do.
I want you to feel me filling you.
Endorphins rushed through me.
He held a glass of whiskey in one hand. “This is for celebrating. In case you’re wondering.”
“For finishing your book.”
“No. That was the last one. This one is for you coming back.” He stood up, off the wall. I couldn’t stop staring at his towel; how loosely it was secured. “Anita,” he grunted. “Close the door.”
The door swung shut behind me with a soft click.
My heartbeat quickened.
Lord help me.
I tried to say something—but my mouth wouldn’t work. I’d been so bold last time, but now I felt nerves skittering up my back.
“Do you want some?” he asked.
My pulse fluttered in my throat. Once again I felt like that little bunny, about to be eaten. Only last time, where things had been playful; where I controlled at least some of the pace, here I was at his mercy.
“No. I have to go back to work after…”
