His eyes drifted up the length of her body, from the strappy heels tapping on the lacquered, distressed concrete floor to the skin-tight jeans covering her muscular legs as her hips swiveled seductively with each step. The lacy edge of her thong peeking through the opening between her halter top and the band of her jeans teased him, causing his cock to stir. He settled on watching her round, tight ass and wished his hands were gripping that instead of the handles of the two suitcases.
Mena stopped in front of their door, 12C, and faced him. Rolling her eyes, she whispered, “Do not encourage her.”
Julian smiled at the crinkled frown forming in between Mena’s eyebrows. The sensual furrow ratcheted her sex appeal toward the top of the charts. Despite what his father believed, Julian had no regrets about leaving behind his life in St. Basil to follow Mena to Kenya for her fellowship at the Tribal Museum.
Julian barely recognized himself anymore. Long gone was the guilt-ridden man who’d exiled himself for the mistakes of his past, living alone and miserable on a yacht in the marina of one of the most beautiful islands in the world. The life he’d had wasn’t worth much before he’d met Mena. Because of her, he’d been able to move beyond the pain of his past.
“Yes, Mother. We are at the condo now,” Mena said, her voice echoing in the hallway.
A smile played at the corners of his mouth as he watched her bend over to pick up the newspaper resting against the bottom of the door.
“The flight was fine. We both slept most of the way,” Mena continued, fumbling through her purse for the key card.
Would he ever get used to how beautiful she was?
Her deep brown skin was a hint darker after a few days basking on the beach. Visions of Mena in her string bikini laying on top of him as the ocean waves crashed over them brought a flush of heat to his face. The trip to Miami had been a whim, his feeble attempt to make up for the disappointment of the trip she’d dubbed “Holidays with the Parents.” It had been more like “A Jacked-up Jacksonville Christmas,” but he didn’t want to think about the miserable, failed attempt to introduce Mena to his father. In fact, he’d be perfectly fine if Mena never met the bastard at all.
He should have talked her out of the plan when she’d first presented it to him, but how could he say no to the woman who owned his heart? He hadn’t wanted to let her down, but a part of him knew he was delaying the inevitable. Any Christmas dinner that included Julian and his father in the same room was bound to be a disaster. It was for the best that neither of his parents showed up.
Despite Julian’s best efforts, he hadn’t been able to salvage the dampened holiday spirit until he suggested spending New Year’s Eve in South Beach.
“Yes, I know you love Julian,” Mena said, finding the key card and waving it at him with a big smile. “He’s pretty alright with me, too.”
“Just alright?” Julian asked, grabbing Mena’s hand and pressing his lips against her open palm. The tantalizing scent of sandalwood and orange seduced him, sending a jolt of excitement through his body.
“More than alright, babe,” Mena whispered. Opening the door with the key card, Mena held wide for Julian to enter. As he pulled the roller bags into the spacious foyer of the condo, Mena slapped him on the butt, giggling as he passed in front of her.
Twenty-one hours of air travel had both of them horny as rabbits. In a few minutes, he planned to have her naked in his arms.
“No, you are not hearing wedding bells!” Mena screeched, stepping out of her heels and walking past him.
Julian studied the luggage, lining it neatly against the living room wall as he struggled to swallow past the sudden dryness in his throat. His back muscles tightened as he slowly removed the duffel bag and backpack from his shoulders and placed them against the floor.
“It’s way too soon for bells to be ringing. But, if that changes, you’ll be the first to know, I promise. I gotta go. Love you, bye,” Mena said, tossing the cell phone onto the round ottoman before free-falling back onto the caramel-hued leather couch.
“Can you believe her?” Mena said, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. “She just met you, and she’s already trying to force us down the aisle. Why can’t she stay out of it?”
The subject of marriage was an IED that he had no plans of stepping on. Despite the tugging at his heart, Julian knew he had to take things slow with Mena. She’d gone through a bad marriage and an even worse divorce. Both of which he couldn’t seem to get her to open up about. He couldn’t blame her for being wary about entering into the institution of matrimony again. Mena would come around eventually, but until then, he needed to keep a wrap on his hopes for their future.
Julian stepped away from the luggage and walked over to Mena, leaning down to kiss her soft lips. “Nothing wrong with your mom wanting you to settle down with a handsome ex-Navy SEAL, you know. But we’ll have plenty of time to focus on that in the future. No need to rush into things.”
“Exactly. I’m so glad we’re on the same page. Just because we’re in no hurry to get hitched doesn’t mean we’re not madly, passionately in love with each other,” Mena said, placing her hands on the sides of his face and pulling him close to her. His lips found hers again, indulging in a hot kiss that aroused all of his senses. Her sweet mouth was like candy, and he couldn’t get enough of her.
Mena broke the hypnotic spell of the kiss far too soon for Julian’s liking.
“You hungry?” Mena asked as her stomach growled.
Julian laughed. “Only for you, but I guess I should feed you before I ravish your body.”
“A snack would be good. I have a feeling you aren’t going to get much sleep tonight,” Mena teased, biting her bottom lip.
Reluctantly, Julian pulled away and headed into the kitchen. Opening the drawer, he lifted a stack of take-out menus and placed them on the counter. “What’s your pleasure?”
“Pizza, maybe? Something with lots of carbs,” Mena said as she scooted off the couch and headed toward the luggage.
Julian watched her rummage through one of the bags, his eyes locked on the backpack nearby. He should have taken it into the bedroom and placed it in the closet out of her sight. After the “why rush marriage” talk, he didn’t want her to find what was hidden inside.
“Why can’t people let us be happy like we are? What’s the big deal about getting married anyway? I’ve done that, and believe me, it’s not the fairytale that you dream about growing up,” Mena said, digging an arm deeper into the suitcase as she maneuvered the contents around.
