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‘Even then,’ I quip, shutting down his line of questioning with a tight-lipped smile. ‘Where, exactly, are we going?’
‘We’re nearly there.’
‘Nearly where?’
‘Don’t like surprises?’
‘I like some surprises.’
‘Speaking of which,’ he murmurs, surprising me by bundling me into his arms and pushing me against a wall. My breath catches in my throat, my face tilting towards him. ‘Did you get the box I sent you?’
A smile lifts the corners of my lips. ‘Which box would that be?’ I feign ignorance.
‘A little box of silk and lace, and a rather delightfully placed ribbon, if memory serves...’
‘Ah.’ I can’t stop the smile that spreads over my face. ‘You’re just going to have to wait and see.’
‘Haven’t I been waiting a decade already?’ he groans, dropping his head forward and brushing his lips over mine. Desire sets up camp in my belly.
‘Did you choose the lingerie yourself?’ I can’t help asking.
His face is serious. ‘Of course. Did you think I had my assistant do it?’
‘Or your driver,’ I tease.
‘Edward can cross town in fifteen minutes flat but I don’t think he and I share the same taste in women’s apparel.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘You don’t like Edward’s taste either?’
I laugh. ‘I don’t think I’ve even clapped eyes on the man. I just meant I like the idea of you going into a boutique and picking something out. For me.’
‘Ah.’ He nods, sagely, his own mouth quirking into a delicious smile. ‘I did.’ He drops his head a little closer, so his breath teases my cheek. ‘You know what else I did?’
My heart rate accelerates. ‘What?’
‘I ran my fingers over it.’
Heat pools between my legs.
‘I imagined you in it.’
God. I feel weak-kneed.
‘And then...’
I hold my breath, waiting. Desire is like a moth inside me, my blood the flame to which it’s drawn. I feel the wings beating through my veins, hollowing me out from under my skin.
‘Yeah?’ My voice is just a croak.
‘I went home and jacked off, imagining you in it.’
‘Oh, God.’ It’s a tremulous acknowledgement of one of the sexiest images I’ve ever had planted in my brain.
He’s smiling; I’m not. I’m burning up. I can no longer wait to be with him. I look around us—we are practically alone, save for the cars hurtling past and the occasional jogger out for a late-night run.
‘I want to go home with you.’
