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This was how we operated whenever I became neurotic. I’d get worked up and Hale would soothe me. But I didn’t want my feelings minimized, so I fidgeted away. “I’m serious, Hale.”
“So am I. You have to take it one day at a time. Focus on packing and the rest will all fall into place.”
Maybe for him. “I’m never going to fit all of this. We’re going to too many destinations.”
He kissed the side of my neck and a shiver chased down my spine. “You’re not going to need half of this. I plan to have you naked most of the time.”
“Hale, even if we spend most days in bed, we’ll still have to venture out to find food.”
“I’ll keep you fed.” His hand snaked under my T-shirt, palm warm and gentle as he cupped my breast.
I couldn’t concentrate when he rolled my nipple like that. “I have to leave some of this stuff behind.”
He buried his face in my shoulder, kissing and nipping those sensitive curves and making me twitch. If he made it to my earlobe I was done.
“What about this? Do I need this?” I held up the string bikini Hale’s sister had insisted I buy on our last shopping spree.
He pulled the bikini out of my hand and tossed it onto the table. “Come with me.”
“But I have to finish packing?—”
“You can finish after we’re done.” He towed me through the penthouse until we were standing in the master bedroom.
“Elara will be awake soon.”
“So we better hurry.” He stripped out of his shirt and lounge pants.
I backed into the bed. “Hale, I’m still in my PJs.”
He caught the front of my faded T-shirt and tugged me forward. “You’re full of excuses. Let me distract you.”
Good luck. I was an incurable over-thinker. And for good reason! Overthinking helped me prepare for the multitude of calamities that befell me regularly. Not everyone was as lucky as Hale.
He crouched and caught me by the back of the knees, flipping me onto the bed. “That’s better.”
“Hale, I’m not in the right headspace for this. I still have to go through my toiletries, and pack up the wedding clothes for the cleaner and—Hello!”
He yanked down my panties and dove forward, closing his mouth over my clit and pressing his fingers deep. I arched into him, losing my train of thought.
“There it is!”
His other hand went to my breasts. This was why the showoff got whatever he wanted in the bedroom. He was a fucking sex god.
“I can’t hear you, Rayne. You have to show me you like it or I’ll stop.”
“Don’t you dare stop now!” I fisted his hair, riding his face hard as he teased my clit and drove me over the edge.
He groaned, licking over me as he curled his fingers, dragging out my climax until I was arching off the bed and begging for mercy.
When he finally lifted his face from between my thighs, he smiled with sheer arrogance, dragging his thumb under his lip and then sucking it clean. “Better?”
“I hate you.”
He caught my legs, stretched them open, and leaned forward, pressing my knees into the mattress. “That’s no way to speak to your husband—especially after he just made you come.”
“I told you I had stuff to do.” No clue what that stuff was now, but that wasn’t the point.
“I can see I still have work to do.”
