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“So, was I right?” he asks, walking up behind me as I gaze out over the beginnings of a spectacular Miami sunset.
We’re high atop the city on the wraparound terr
ace of a luxury penthouse, surrounded by open sky, endless water, and a soothing, warm ocean breeze. With nothing but a hip-high railing of clear Plexiglas in front of us, I feel as if we’re part of the sky itself, suspended eighteen stories above the earth.
Nick rests his chin lightly on my shoulder, his deep voice curling through my senses. “How do you like this surprise?”
“It’s incredible.”
From our vantage point on the top floor of the sleek white residential tower, the sky seems close enough to touch, its smattering wisps of clouds lit up with a hundred shades of pink, lavender, coral, and gold. In front of us, the Atlantic stretches endlessly from the beach and boardwalk far below, to the distant horizon. Over my shoulder in the opposite direction, the sunset is even more brilliant, silhouetting the teeming, vibrant colors of Miami’s downtown on the other side of Biscayne Bay.
We arrived a short time ago on board the piloted private jet Nick paid to charter on the spot at JFK. For all of our three hours in the air, he kept me in suspense over where we were going. And while a spontaneous trip to Miami Beach is more adventure than I’ve ever known, it turns out that was only part of his surprise. This penthouse condo—yet another of his impressive properties—is the icing on an already fabulous cake.
“I can’t get over this view.”
He presses a kiss to the side of my neck, just below my earlobe. “Wait until you see the sunrise from up here.”
Wrapping his arms around me, he draws me closer to him, against the firm muscles of his chest and thighs. The flirty, above-the-knee, spaghetti-strap sundress I’m wearing—also courtesy of Nick—sways around my legs as I pivot in his embrace. “Are we staying overnight?”
“We can stay as long as you like.”
Forever, I think, as he gently sweeps aside some of my hair that’s blown loose from my ponytail, then caresses my cheek. Desire licks across my senses at that tender touch. I sigh, feeling all of my tension and uncertainty from earlier today begin to melt away from me.
Our bodies brush together only lightly as we stand here, but it’s enough for me to feel the solid bulge of his erection at my abdomen. The fact that he wants me now like I want him sends a shiver of heat and awareness spiraling through me, straight to my core.
How can his slightest touch always arouse me so easily? How can it be that when we’re together the rest of the world simply peels away?
He knows what he does to me, and from the slow smirk he gives me now, there’s no denying that he enjoys how readily my body responds to him.
“Christ, you are a temptation,” he murmurs, lowering his head to nip at my lower lip.
As he teases me with his kiss, his hand skims between my bare thighs under the fluttery fabric of my skirt where I am totally naked. Of the half-dozen dresses Nick arranged to have waiting for me, the thin-strapped bodice of the one I selected isn’t made for a bra, so I’m not wearing one. And, at Nick’s insistence when we changed clothes on our arrival, I’m not wearing panties either. I smile at the thought, because his erotic demand nearly undid him when he watched me slip into the silky little dress, and I know it’s going to prove a distraction to him, too, until he’s able to take it off me again.
He groans when his fingers reach my sex. I’m already wet just from being held in his arms, and from the kiss that turns possessive now, as he cleaves between my folds and strokes me without shame or mercy. I whimper helplessly at the first graze of his thumb over my clit, my hands fisting in his thick black hair as he pushes his tongue into my mouth and two fingers plunge deep into my body.
“Nick.” His name is a gasp as I let my head tip back while he drives me toward madness with his wicked caresses. “Oh, shit . . . I could come like this.”
“And you will, baby.” He kisses my exposed throat, his tongue playing in the hollow at the base of my neck. “But not yet.”
To my dismay, I feel his hand start to withdraw from me. I can’t contain my disappointed moan. My skirt falls back down around my thighs, and when I look at him, he is grinning like the devil himself. Unabashedly carnal, he puts the two fingers that were inside me into his mouth and sucks on them.
“I’m ravenous,” he growls darkly, a sinful curve to those lips I want to feel on mine, on every naked inch of my body. “Before I devour you the way I fully intend to, I should make good on that promise to feed you.”
Chapter 26
Nick’s favorite place for seafood is a small, tucked-away beachfront restaurant about forty-five minutes south of Miami. We drive up in a metallic red Lamborghini Aventador rental that he arranged for at the airport upon our arrival earlier today, a sexy beast of a car that’s turned every head we’ve passed. Although I’ve never been someone who craves the spotlight, I can’t deny that I feel like a princess as Nick helps me out of the roadster and escorts me to the restaurant at his side.
The squat little building doesn’t look like much from the outside, but it’s crowded and more people are waiting under the arched portico of the entrance. As soon as the hostess spots Nick, however, she nods in greeting and steps through the waiting patrons to retrieve us.
“How nice to see you, sir,” she offers, discreetly avoiding saying his name among the other patrons. I am granted an equally welcoming smile. “And good evening, ma’am. Right this way, please. We have your table waiting.”
We follow her out to a garden patio area illuminated by flaming tiki torches and palm trees aglow with winding ropes of tiny white lights. Twenty-odd tables covered in elegant white linens, gleaming silverware, and crystal glasses fill the small concrete space overlooking a round lagoon and sandy beach. Beyond that are the glittering waters of Biscayne Bay and the open Atlantic.
The last moments of sunset paint the darkening sky in vivid colors as we make our way to the far end of the patio and the only open table—which also happens to be the one with the most romantic view of the water and skyline through the sheltering palms.
As we settle in at our table, Nick sends the hostess away with a request for a bottle of champagne. I notice he doesn’t specify the label, nor does she ask.
“Are we celebrating?” I ask, glancing across to him while I unfold my white linen napkin and place it on my lap.
