I should have known my assistant wouldn’t let an opportunity like this slip through his fingers.
The kitchen was set up for a romantic dinner for two, candles and everything.
Joan looked at me in surprise.
I released our luggage and held up my hands in surrender. “Not it. Probably Eddie J’s idea.”
She shrugged, looking amused. “I could eat.”
Joan slid off her shoes and abandoned her things in the foyer before walking through the open floor plan toward the back of the house.
My home was the first big purchase I’d ever made. The four-thousand-square-foot beach house sat on the cliffside, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It had been decorated and furnished by a professional, and as a result, it looked like a showroom. Clean lines, monochromatic walls, and pale everything.
I thought of Joan’s cabin. How warm and comfortable it was—inviting. Surrounded by a beautiful scenery.
Well, at least our homes had that last one in common.
Joan made her way around the large marble island in the kitchen, bypassing the elegantly laid table, and down two stairs into the living room. She approached the rear wall of windows slowly, as if she needed to be cautious.
The sun was setting on the water, the waves reflecting the deep orange of the sky. Joan stood silhouetted by the landscape. I considered joining her, but I let myself stand there, enjoying the moment, and her in it.
She was here. She’d said yes.
It felt like the first step in something important, something big.
We ate a delicious meal before Facetiming Georgie to tell him good night. Surprising me, Joan pulled out her own copy of the book he’d been reading before bedtime and read the next chapter over the phone. Listening to her narrate the different voices while my nephew giggled through the speaker made my throat go tight and my imagination work overtime.
I told Georgie I loved him and then excused myself while Joan finished up the chapter. I cleaned up our dinner and loaded the dishwasher—embarrassingly, for the first time in this house—so I could gain some space, if not a little perspective.
After I started the wash cycle, I moved our luggage to my bedroom. Then I found Joan once again by the back windows, gazing out, fingertipspressed to the glass. The ocean was dark, but the moon lit the waves, highlighting each crest and peak.
“It’s not the mountains,” I told her.
She didn’t turn. “But it sure is something.”
I smiled at the approval, the undisguised awe I heard in her voice. “Our bags are down the hall. You ready for bed?”
Despite the early hour, I knew she was just as exhausted as I was from a long day of travel.
“I am,” she replied, and let me slip my fingers through hers and lead her toward my bedroom.
We showered away the day, the warm water loosening tense muscles. I lathered Joan’s short hair, enjoying the sounds she made as my nails scraped gently along her scalp and soap trailed down her lean body.
As the water beat against my back, my lips found her neck, her shoulders. I bit down on her earlobe, and she pressed into me, the subtle curve of her ass nestled against my rapidly hardening cock.
I couldn’t get over seeing her in my space. Despite how much I’d hoped, there had been a big part of me that had never truly believed she’d accept my invitation. But now ... she was here, and I wanted to see her in every part of this house. I wanted to memorize how she moved in my shower, how her clothes looked hung next to mine. I wanted to watch her drink coffee in the morning out on the balcony while the sun rose.
I wanted her to ruin this house for me when she left.
We fell into bed, our skin warm and still damp from the shower. Joan settled herself on my lap, her strong thighs astride my hips.
I’d never be able to lie in this bed again without closing my eyes and seeing Joan smirking down at me, tucking a strand of wet hair behind one ear. Perched on top, she looked like a goddess. Long, gorgeous lines bathed in moonlight.
Her hands smoothed up my abdomen, over my chest to the tops of myshoulders, and back again, completing a circuit. Her midnight-dark eyes followed her movements intently.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” she breathed, gaze still focused on her ministrations.
I lifted my arms, crossed them behind my head. My biceps popped, and I grinned, giving her a little show. “Just muscles,” I commented, but I liked her words, her attention, her approval.
