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CHAPTERTWENTY
Damon
The day of the ceremony, I wake as a renewed and unstoppable force. This silly, insatiable woman slept in my arms all night long, and how could I not love her body melded against mine?
I press my lips to Kate’s bare shoulder, loving the sun-kissed glow of her skin and how the early light blankets her.
“Good morning,” I murmur.
Like a well-fed house cat, she stretches her arms, legs, and toes with a contented sigh that hits my groin at the same time as her round ass. I palm it beneath the covers, kissing her warm skin once more.
“Mm.” She curls into my pelvis, placing my hardening cock between her bare cheeks. “Again?”
I kiss a sleepy grin when she turns toward me. “You can’t possibly imagine the torture of having to tell you no.”
Squeezing her hip, I move my palm up the expanse of her belly to cup and knead her breast. There was a time when I wouldn’t have dreamed of being late to a meeting like this. But when I’m with Kate, I can’t bring myself to care.
“It’s awfully cruel of them to make you go to meetings on your big day.” Kate’s supple lips form a pout. “They won’t even miss you.”
Our combined laughter is a balm for my weary soul.
“Are you excited?” she asks.
“Not exactly.”
Her feet seek mine, wrapping around them. “You’re going to do great. I have nothing but faith in you.”
Something tender slithers around my chest before giving my ribcage a squeeze.
“I can’t wait to see how beautiful you’ll look in the dress I bought.” I steal another kiss when her mouth pops open. “And I especially can’t wait to tear it off of you.”
“Damon,” she complains. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” I laugh, dodging her pinching fingers. “Turns out, spoiling you has become my second favorite hobby.”
She arches a brow. “Whose biscuit are we buttering this time?”
“Actually, there won’t be any requirements from you tonight.”
“Oh?”
Her knee slides up and down my thigh.
“Tonight, you’re my real date. No contracts,” I say, swiping at her lips, “And no lipstick.”
I love the way her tongue peeks out, tracing where my finger just was. “Well, how can I say no to that?”
“Don’t,” I whisper.
Our lips brush gently; tongues following suit.
It’s hard to believe this is our last day together. After tonight, I’ll be on a flight back to LA, and our lives will somehow carry on without each other.
Every time I think of her at home with her miserable parents, that twisting in my gut ramps up again. But the London gig Patrick offered looms over me.
I wrap my arms around her torso and hug her into me. “Remember the night of the boat cruise?”
“Hmm.” She snuggles a bit deeper. “Do you mean the night we successfully schmoozed the pants off your boss, and you congratulated our performance by mauling me beneath the staircase of his fancy yacht?”
