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Twelve
Farrell pulled off his boots,calling in Jenna, who was changing for bed in thebathroom.
“The territory isn’t as out of control as New York was when we brought in Damian,” he said, “in part because Anastos hasn’t been out of the picture long. It was good that we put our foot down early, much as I hated missing the day withyou.”
“It was fine,” Jenna said, her voice muffled. “We had a nice time in thecity.”
“Lily certainly seemed to have fun with Maria and the other girls,” Farrellsaid.
Lily had talked nonstop when Farrell came through the door, telling him all about the paintings they’d made and the games they’d played and how she’d even understood the Italian in the cartoon they’dwatched.
Jenna, on the other hand, had been quiet all through the casual dinner of antipasto and wine set out by Angel andNico.
“You know Lily,” Jenna called back. “She makes herself at homeanywhere.”
“That’s true,” Farrellsaid.
This was good. They could do this — talk about Lily and the happenings of their day. If they could keep doing this, maybe things would go back to normal. Maybe the tightrope they’d been walking the past few days would morph into a wide, sandy beach where they could walk hand inhand.
Maybe he could propose instead of carrying the fucking ring around in his pocket like a bloody adolescent who couldn’t get up the nerve to ask for a firstdate.
“We should go to Greece again,” he said. “Just you and I. Maybe after the holiday. We can leave Lily with Mrs. Pendleton or Carmen, lay on the beach, start drinking ateleven.”
He was standing at the terrace doors, his eyes on the basilica, lit up in the distance, when he realized she hadn’t answered, hadn’t said anything in quite sometime.
He turned around to find her standing in the doorway of the bathroom. He might have thought she was naked under the silk robe, but naked didn’t quite describeit.
The silk robe was open, revealing nearly all of her body, crisscrossed by black straps that only served to highlight her full breasts, the taper of her waist, the flare of herhips.
The only thing that was actually covered was the mound between her legs — but barely, and by a tiny scrap offabric.
Her shapely legs emerged from the robe, extending to black stilettos that were so sexy they would have been slightly subversive, even paired with an elegant little blackdress.
But they weren’t paired with a little blackdress.
They were paired with a garment that was a combination of lingerie wrapped around all of Jenna’s gorgeous bits, and a contraption that might have been hooked to a wall in a luxe BDSMcave.
“I don’t want to talk about Greece,” shesaid.
It was music to his ears. He was alreadyhard.
She was casually twirling a string of beads in her hand, as if it were a keychain or lock ofhair.
He gotharder.
He knew he would be able to see the moisture on her pussy when he carefully inserted the beads into the opening of her ass. Knew she would sigh with pleasure when he penetrated her while the beads were still ensconced in her tight littleflower.
He forced himself to walk slowly toward her, enjoying every moment to drink herin.
Whatever they were going through, she was his goddess, the one woman who knew him. Who understood him. Who wanted every dirty thing between them as much as hedid.
He stopped a couple inches away and looked down at her. “I’m so fucking hard for you,Jenna.”
She reached for his belt, undid it with one hand, used the end of it to pull himcloser.
“Good, because I’m so wet ithurts.”
He growled and bent to her lips, forcing himself not to kiss her as his palm traveled between the straps exposing her breasts, past the ones passing over herstomach.
