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“You have a yacht?” I squeak, wide-eyed.
He chuckles, gets out of the car, and comes around to open my door. He takes my hand and helps me from the car. “Yes, I have a yacht.”
“Of course, you do.” We begin to walk into my building. “You have all the toys.”
We get into the lift and he stares straight ahead, while I stare up at him.
Touch me, damn it.
I’m really beginning to hate this no touching in public rule. I want him draped all over me like a scarf. We arrive at my room, and as I unlock the door, his hand takes my hip from behind.
There it is. Touch.
It’s not sexual, not sleazy, but somehow it sends tingles all the way down to my toes. Maybe that’s because I know it’s a prelude of what’s to come. The door opens, and his hand comes from behind me. He pushes it open with force, unable to wait a second longer.
Then he’s on me. His hands are in my hair and he’s kissing me like his life depends on it. I smile against his lips.
“That’s more like it,” I whisper. “Took your time.”
For ten minutes, we kiss, and then he takes me into his big, s
trong arms and holds me tight. We stand cheek-to-cheek for a long time just enjoying holding each other. I’ve missed him.
His lips take mine, slow and deliberate, and I find myself clinging to him as he leads me into temptation.
“Let’s take a shower,” I suggest.
“We can’t, our plane leaves at five. We have to get to the airport.”
“What?” Damn it, I want to have I missed you sex.
“We can relax once we get there.” He kisses me again. “I promise.”
“Fine.” I step back from him and begin to gather my things. Did I pack right for Monte Carlo? What even happens in Monte Carlo? I definitely don’t have any Princess Grace wear in my suitcase.
“Do you wear that dress to work often?” he asks as his eyes skim my body.
I look down at myself. I’m wearing a tight black, woolen turtleneck dress. It has long sleeves and a lower neckline. “Yeah, why?”
His brows crease. “Please don’t.”
“Why not?’
“Because it shows your every curve.”
“And?”
“And I want to be the only one seeing those.” He steps forward and takes me into his arms again. “Your body is for my eyes only.”
“Is that so?” I smile up at him.
“That’s so.”
I love that my body is for his eyes only…this is going very well indeed. “You know, you can’t tell me what to do,” I tease.
He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Would you like to place a bet on that?” He pumps me with his hips.
I giggle. “I would, actually. I’m in the betting mood. Isn’t that what they do in Monte Carlo?” I bat my lashes.
