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“These, I think I’ll let you keep.” He pauses. “Any word from your mother?”
“No.” The mention of her sours my mood. She hasn’t responded to any of my texts, except for one innocuous message about the weather. “Daddy said he thinks she’s starting to come around. He caught her looking up flights to Alaska the other day.”
“She will. Don’t give it another thought tonight.” Henry pulls me flush against him, allowing me to feel him hard against my back.
“People will be here in less than an hour,” I warn him, even as my blood rushes.
“Since when do I care about other people’s schedules?”
I’ve barely seen him all week. In typical Henry fashion, he distracted himself with work to avoid dealing with the shock of learning about Violet, taking a sudden two-day trip to Dallas and then spending the rest of his time in the office, arriving home late and leaving early. While I’ve missed him terribly, between catching up on my two correspondence courses and all the prep for the launch of my soap line, I’ve had more than enough to keep myself busy.
But now I need to feel a closeness with him again, even if it’s just physical. I need to know that what we have is real and deep and can weather anything that comes our way.
So I don’t argue when he hikes my dress up to my waist and tugs on my panties until they fall to the tile floor. I don’t wait for him to demand that I take them off, gingerly stepping out of them.
“Bend over,” he coaxes, his hand pressing against my back. “Elbows on the counter.”
Heat explodes in my lower belly as I follow his directions. The vanity mirror reflects the sordid scene as Henry takes several steps back to lean against the wall and admire the lewd display, his arms folded across his chest.
Cool air caresses my bare skin as I wait for him to unzip his pants, but he’s torturing me with anticipation.
Two can play at this game.
“While you’re deciding what you want …” I adjust my stance and arch my back, and then pick up my mascara wand.
Henry watches as I paint my lashes with long, languid strokes, pretending that my pulse isn’t racing through my veins, before his gaze drops to the view farther down.
I spread my legs apart to tease him.
“Fuck, Abbi.” The sound of his zipper unfastening fills the room.
I stifle my smile, even as my sex clenches with anticipation, and keep my attention on my task as he sheds his clothes, right down to his socks.
Suddenly, he’s hovering behind me, his hard length gripped in his hand. “You know how to tease me.”
Heat pools between my legs. “I’ve learned from the best.” I gasp as he rubs the smooth, round head of his cock through my slit once, twice … pressing against my entrance in a gentle intrusion.
I close my mascara and set it down, preparing for the hard thrust into me that is coming. Aching for it.
His dark, blazing eyes lift to meet mine. “You’re right, you have.”
I yelp as he slaps my bare cheek with his palm. “They’ll be here soon. Hurry up.” He pulls away and strolls into the shower, turning on the water.
I gape as I watch after him, my cheeks flushed with frustration. “That’s it?” He’s going to leave me likethis?
He’s under the stream of hot water when he peers over his shoulder to flash a wicked grin.
* * *
“You domesticated motherfucker!”
I observe from the corner of the kitchen as a man with fair skin and a lush mane of black hair pulls Henry into a hug. Given the British accent, thismustbe Preston.
Henry returns the gesture, roping his arms around his friend.
So, this is the guy with the swollen ego who runs the two-billion-dollar hedge fund firm. No wonder … Not only is he rich and successful, he isbeautiful. Tall and fit and stylish, with masculine features and a broad, uninhibited smile that shows off straight, white teeth. The guy surely turns heads in every room he walks into.
How I missed spotting Preston at the funeral is beyond me, but I guess that confirms how many people there were and how solely focused I was on Henry.
