Page 55 of Based on You

"I've been wanting this." His voice was hoarse.

My pulse raced. "What do you mean?"

"This." He kissed me again, soft this time, brief but loaded. "I've always wanted to do this."

He kissed me deep before I could answer, and then he started moving lower, his hands finding the hem of my dress, and I stopped thinking about anything else.

He paused.

I looked down at him, confused. "What happened?"

He looked up at me, his eyes dark. Then his gaze dropped back to what he'd just uncovered, and a slow, wicked smile moved across his face.

"I didn't realize," he murmured, his voice thick, "your secret tattoo was right here."

Heat flashed through me from the chest down. The hidden tattoo was inked high on my inner thigh, the placement its own provocative statement. Two simple words in small, elegant script.

Baby girl.

He looked back up at me, his eyes gleaming. "So you're not my girl." His voice dropped lower, darker. "You're my baby girl."

I bit down hard on my lower lip and pulled him back up to me.

The dark room filled with everything that followed. It was unhurried, and it had no professional distance in it at all.

Afterward, when the bedroom had gone quiet around us and the dark was full and warm, I lay with my head on his bare chest, listening to his fast heartbeat slow back to normal.

SIXTEEN

SIMON

She was sound asleep when I woke up.

I lay quietly in the bed a long moment, just looking at her. Her dark hair was splayed across the white pillowcase, and her face was slack, the careful composure she carried all day gone. She looked younger like this, her lips parted slightly in sleep, her hands resting loosely at the edge of the pillow.

I leaned over and pressed my lips to her warm forehead.

She stirred. Her dark eyes fluttered open, blinking against the morning light, and then she found my face. Her mouth curved into a sleepy, satisfied smile.

"Good morning," I murmured.

"Good morning." She stretched, pulling the heavy sheet up to cover herself. "What time is it?"

"It's early. I should probably go back to my own room."

She blinked, confused. "What?"

"If Olivia wakes up early and finds my room empty, she'll know I wasn't in it."

Violet stared at me a long moment. Then she laughed, a short, quiet, disbelieving sound, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. "Are we actually trying to keep this a secret?"

"No," I clarified. "Olivia just doesn't need the full inventory right now."

She considered the logic. "That's fair." She nodded. "Go."

I got up reluctantly. I grabbed the shirt I'd left on the floor the night before, threw it on, and found my way to the bedroom door in the dim early light. I stepped out into the quiet hall.

I stopped where I stood.