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“That means I take care of you. My sweet, little, dirty girl.” One of his hands slides down the wall to grab my ass. He lifts me easily off my feet with only one hand, his hard cock pressing into my stomach. “I should have caught you. For that, I’m sorry, love.”
“You’re sorry?” Is he really saying that? “But it was me that—” He cuts me off, his mouth taking mine in a hard kiss that leaves me breathless.
“I take care of you.” He runs his nose along my jaw. “The same way you take care of me.”
“You mean with sex?” I’m not sure I care much for that. Even if I love the way we are together when it comes to that area.
“Don’t say things like that when you know it’s much more than that. Though I do want to push your dress up and fuck you right here until you scream with pleasure and those tears you’ve been holding back are long forgotten.”
“What’s stopping you?” I lick my lips that are still tingling from the hard kiss he placed on them moments ago.
“A camera. I’m already not too happy to hear about the possibility of some fuckers seeing your panties in Hyde Park.”
I groan, dropping my forehead onto Jay's chest. “Can we not talk about that?”
“As long as you stop showing your panties off.” He gives my ass a squeeze, and I know he’s teasing. Half teasing at least. I don’t think he actually wants anyone to see them. I ended up finding out the reason he was directing people on putting my clothes away in the suite was because of my underwear.
“I’ll try.” That’s the best I can give. I wish I could give him more. There is this fear that he’s going to grow tired of my little oopses.
“And I’ll try to be quicker.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Now let me take you to lunch. You said you wanted to see the city, and I’m not going to let you lock yourself away in fear.” He tucks me close to his side. “Trust me?”
“Yes,” I admit, not caring if it’s naïve. I want to trust him so badly.
“That’s my good girl.” He gives my hip a firm grip before he hits the button to release the elevator. A few seconds later, the doors slide open. The ground floor is as busy, if not more, than when we got here. I notice a few people turn, and their eyes widen when they see Jay. I also notice people step to move out of his way when he walks through a crowd. I’d have to slip through if I was by myself, saying sorry a million times, but they part for him. Not only giving him room but making sure they give it to me as well.
“How are you so well known in the fashion world?” I ask when we break free from the building and are out on the sidewalk.
“Are you saying I’m not fashionable?” He glances down at his suit.
“I—” I stop when I realize he’s teasing me. I know the suit he’s wearing is custom. It has to be. Jay isn’t a small man. He’s not only tall but broad too, and the thing fits him perfectly.
“They know me because I have money, and my last name is Eaton. Nothing more.” I’m not sure what to think of that. “Don’t frown, love. That was the sweet version.”
“The sweet version?” A black SUV pulls up. One of the bodyguards appears out of nowhere to open the door. I notice the other in the driver's seat and the third about ten feet back. His eyes flick up and down the sidewalk, watching everyone.
“Fear. They fear me, Milana.” Before I can even process that, he lifts me by my hips, setting me right into the back of the SUV. He even slides my seatbelt into place before closing the door and walking behind the back of the vehicle to slip into the other side as the second bodyguard gets into the front seat before we’re pulling away from the curb.
“Aren’t we forgetting that one?” I point over my shoulder with my thumb to where the third guard was standing, but he’s no longer there.
“He’ll be along shortly.” Jay reaches over and takes my hand, his fingers tangling with mine. Who would fear Jay? He might call me dirty words when it’s only he and I, but other than that, he’s everything a girl could dream for. Well, this one at least.
“Why, Jay?” I ask, not sure I really want to know the answer, but maybe this is the key to why he’s not a man I should be playing with or whatever you call what we are doing. “Truth,” I add at his long, pregnant pause.
