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“I showed these two angels-of-my-loins pictures of the charity event night, and you and the band turned my daughters off boys their ages who are just”—she makes air quotation marks with her fingers—“too immature for words. The giggly angel with her hair in a bun is Layla, and my other precious with her hair braided into a mermaid’s tail is Ariel. Now they have met you in the flesh—” She sighs dramatically, laying the back of her hand against her forehead as though she is swooning and then fans herself while grinning.—“I doubt they will be able to utter a word in your presence. Not like their mother, who is totally cool around rock Gods.”
We all burst out laughing.
Seventy-Seven
ROOM WITH A VIEW
Tucker
We make it through the elevator door locked in a passionate kiss just as my phone starts ringing… and ringing… and ringing…
I know it will be family or MacDougalls, and I don’t want any interruptions; they can wait until the morning.
The ringing stops.
A silent decision was agreed upon when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other in the elevator: the ice cream could wait until all things naked and orgasmic nourished our souls.
“Jump,” I murmur. I want Ophelia’s legs wrapped around me.
“Dress too body-hugging,” she replies as I guide her backward away from the bedroom.
“Don’t drop the package.” I slide an arm under her knees so I can lift her.
With our mouths not missing a beat, she gets cradled in my arms, and then the tub of rum and raisin makes it to the freezer.
“Tucker… my dress… off… unzip me,” she says between light kisses peppered along the curve of my neck.
We are near a large window. The curtains are still open, but we are far enough back in the shadows not to get seen.
Perfect.
I gently place her on her feet. “Face the window and wait for my command.” The sex we had before we got ready for dinner was exciting and verging on frantic from being separated for more than ten weeks and knowing we were on a time limit, but no stitches got harmed.
Now it is all about enjoying the view.
I locate a black, high back, faux leather dining chair and bring it to the window. I shrug out of my suit jacket, place it on the back of the chair, and then sit directly behind her before carefully unzipping her dress.
“Leave the heels on, eyes forward, and watch yourself in the reflection.”
The only lighting comes from a lamp we left dimly illuminating the suite before we went to dinner, but we are silhouettes against the late-night sky.
She seductively shimmies the dress down her body, making a show of it for me, the fabric pooling at her feet.
My eyes adjust to the low-lighting cursing under my breath. Ophelia’s been without underwear the entire evening.
“Christ, woman…” I rub my jawline, adjusting my suit pants. “Take a step forward and to the left.”
I lean over, pick her dress up, and carefully lay it over the back of the dining chair.
I unbutton my shirt, pulling it open, my tattoos on display, watching her reaction in the reflection.
Ophelia bites her bottom lip then releases a soft moan when I unzip my suit pants, freeing my stiff cock. I sit back and let my arms hang loosely at my side.
“What are you imagining we do next?”
“I… um… there are so many ways this can play out,” she whispers, then licks her lips.
“There are. You could take a step back and ride me facing the window. You could turn around and straddle me. You could kneel before me. You could watch me—”
