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I stiffen. Rafe’s hand is still at my crotch while James approaches. Embarrassed, I try to put some distance between us, but he doesn’t budge.
“Mac and cheese,” Rafe informs him.
“For both of you?”
“Sure.”
I try to hold in my gasp when Rafe’s thumb slips beneath the fabric of my bikini.
“And what would you like to drink, sir?”
Rafe strokes my clit. This is all happening under the water, and we’re standing so close to each other, I don’t think James can see anything. Nevertheless, I can’t wait for him to leave.
Rafael rattles off the name of a sauvignon blanc, and I expect the conversation to be over, but James says, “The pastry chef has made a chocolate torte with crème anglaise.”
Rafael looks to me. “Would you like dessert?”
My face is probably red as a pomegranate right now. Even though I don’t really care about dessert, I nod emphatically, just to end this and send James on his way.
“Have the chef pair a zinfandel with the dessert,” Rafe adds.
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
OMG. Why are they not done yet?!
Rafe asks me, “Would you like anything else, Priscilla?”
“No, Sir,” I reply.
Even though I’ve kept my gaze at Rafe’s chest most of the time, as if I could make James go away faster by not looking at him, I see the corner of Rafe’s lips curl after I utter the word “sir.” I probably said it after hearing James say the word so much.
His thumb circles my clit, making me quiver. “You sure? Perhaps you prefer the chocolate torte à la mode?”
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
He nods to James, who finally departs.
I lift my gaze to meet his. “You prolonged that on purpose!”
“I like the way you blush.”
Somehow that makes me color more.
As he continues fondling me, he lowers his mouth to my ear and says softly, “I also like how wet you get for me.”
“I’m not—”
But he proves me a liar when he sinks his thumb into my wet heat.
“We should— One of your security guards is pretty close to the pool,” I try.
“So?”
“I’m more comfortable in the privacy of the bedroom.”
“Rashid knows to mind his own business. He once heard me and Tetyana fuck each other’s brains out on the lounge chair. I don’t think he glanced our way once.”
“Who’s Tetyana?”
