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I pushed him back onto the mattress and straddled him, indulging my need to touch him, and he let me. Then he found another condom from somewhere and made me ride him, and I loved the growls and curses I brought from him. Then, when we were sweaty and sated, I made him turn over so I could examine the beautiful Chinese tattoo that covered his back.
He’d got it done after his first fight, he told me. Because one of the people who’d bet on him was a tattoo artist who’d won a lot of money and was so pleased he’d offered Ash a free tattoo.
Luckily the artist was good and the tattoo amazing, and after I’d explored it thoroughly, as a reward for his patience, I made him turn over and lie there while I kissed my way down his body and turned the same attention I’d given his tattoo to his cock, taking it into my mouth and sucking him until he roared my name, his fingers clutching tight in my hair.
After that, we thought we’d better move, which turned out to be problematic when I remembered that he’d basically ripped my dress from me and now it was nothing but emerald green bits of fabric on the floor.
We solved the dilemma by Ash ripping down one of the silk curtains from the window and draping it sari-like around my naked body.
I didn’t care what it looked like. There was something wild running through me, the same kind of recklessness I’d felt when I was driving one of the Pythons, wanting to go faster and uncaring about the consequences.
The Little madness, my mother had called it once, slightly disapprovingly.
But she wasn’t wrong. It was a kind of madness. As we left the suites, people stared at us, me in my improvised dress, and Ash in his rumpled tux, and I didn’t care.
In fact, I enjoyed the attention, relishing it even more as Ash put his arm around my waist and pulled me tight against him, making no bones about the fact that I was his.
And this time it was almost real. For the next few days at least, I was his.
Ash took us back to the bar so he could firm up the deal with Delaney, acting as though him leaving abruptly and us both being away for a couple of hours hadn’t happened.
Delaney was delighted and after a handshake and the numbers of their respective lawyers had been exchanged, we left the bar and headed towards the exit, both of us eager to get back to our hotel and resume what we’d started up in the private suites upstairs.
Imogen stopped us as we left, murmuring something to Ash about the next club event that was supposed to be held at one of his new luxury hotels in Monte Carlo. Then she mentioned something about supercars, which made my ears prick up.
‘What do you mean the supplier fell through?’ Ash demanded.
Imogen was frowning, her poise not quite what it had been when we’d met her at the beginning. ‘There was some production issue. The cars had to be recalled and they won’t be ready in time.’
Ash flicked a glance at me. ‘I think I might know where to get some more.’
Something moved like lightning through my whole body. Imogen had turned to look at me expectantly. ‘You know someone?’ she asked.
‘Actually, I do,’ I said, the wild recklessness still burning inside me. ‘My family makes hand-built supercars.’
Imogen frowned. ‘We have a certain market—’
‘They meet the market,’ Ash interrupted flatly. ‘I’ve seen them. The club members will love them, I guarantee it.’
‘Well, we need them in a month in Monaco. That’s not a lot of time.’
I could feel my excitement deflating slightly. Of course it wasn’t. Not when the cars were built in Australia and we’d need to ship them.
‘Not a problem,’ Ash put in again. ‘We’ll get them to you.’ His gaze burned as he looked at me. ‘I can work it so we’ll meet the deadline.’
Imogen gazed at the pair of us sceptically. ‘I’m not so sure. But seeing as how I don’t have a lot of choice... Fine. I’ll need to be kept in the loop, though, since I’ll have to adjust the marketing.’
‘No problem. Give me a couple of days to sort a few things and I’ll get back to you with the details.’
This appeared to satisfy Imogen and a minute or two later, I found myself being tugged along as Ash pulled me towards the entrance.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ I asked worriedly as we walked.
‘Taking advantage of an opportunity.’ The blue of his eyes burned incandescent and not with anger this time, but with excitement. And I could suddenly see why his mother would have given him all her money—why many people did. When he was like this, he was mesmerising.
‘An opportunity? I can’t get a bunch of cars to Monaco in a month,’ I protested. ‘Not when we have to ship them from Aus.’
‘Don’t limit your thinking, Miss Little.’ He flashed me a grin as the limo came for us. ‘We don’t need to ship them from Australia, not when I have a factory in France. We can build them there and drive them to fucking Monaco.’
