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“It might be a difficult job, but I think I’ve proven I’m up for the challenge.”
When I slowly circled my hips to drive the point home, she threw her head back, her infectious laughter filling the room.
God, I loved that sound. Loved seeing her carefree and happy. Loved knowingImade her feel carefree and happy.
Even if I’d eventually be the one to shatter that happiness.
“I do believe you have.” She pulled my lips back to hers. “But first, you need to get down to the golf course.”
I groaned and buried my face in the crook of her neck. “Can’t I just stay here and fuck you all day? I’d much rather go eighteen rounds with you.”
She swatted me away. “Fiend.”
“What can I say?” I waggled my brows as I pulled out of her, stepping away from the desk I’d placed her on in my desperate rush to feel her. “You’ve turned me into an addict.” I pressed a kiss to her lips, our tongues briefly tangling. “But if you insist I spend my day playing this dreadful sport instead of fucking you, I’ll oblige. Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
I leaned my forehead against hers. “You. Me. Dinner. Tonight. Alone.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
“Good.” Touching one last kiss to her mouth, I excused myself to the bathroom, taking a moment to clean up and get dressed.
When I stepped back into the living room of my suite, Imogene had smoothed her hair and was applying a touch of gloss to her lips. I approached her from behind and pulled her against me, skimming my mouth against her neck.
“If you ask me, you don’t need any makeup. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
She closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. “You really shouldn’t say those things to me.”
“Why? It’s true.”
She faced me, draping an arm over my shoulder. “Because then I might just take you up on your offer to go eighteen rounds with me instead.”
“Why the hell did I agree to play golf?” I ground out.
“Because it’s for a good cause. And besides…” She inched her lips toward mine. “Sometimes delayed gratification can be infinitely more satisfying.” She lingered near my mouth for a beat, the promise of her kiss within reach.
Then she spun around, opening the door and stepping into the hallway.
When I didn’t immediately follow, she arched a brow. “Are you coming?’
“I wish I were,” I muttered under my breath as I joined her, placing my hand on her lower back and guiding her toward the bank of elevators.
As we waited for one to arrive, I pulled her against me, unable to stop touching her. Especially since I was about to go all day without her. The thought sounded like torture now, despite the fact I went years without her.
Hell, for the past several months, I’d hated her.
That all changed yesterday when I showed her my scars and she didn’t cringe. Didn’t get disgusted.
Instead, she called them the one thing I never thought anyone would.
She called them beautiful, a testament to my strength.
“I just can’t get enough of this body.” I trailed my hand up a leg, lifting the skirt of her dress after confirming no one was nearby. But when I was met with soft material instead of bare flesh, I narrowed my gaze on her.
“How did you get panties?”
“They were in my purse. I took them off on the elevator before coming to your room.”
