I play-slapped his hip. “Four, you smug asshat.”
He pulled back the cover. “In you go.”
I dutifully crawled under. “Have I lost all your respect?”
“There are many things I feel for you right now. Respect is among them.”
“How did you keep from fucking me?” The way his cock had strained . . .
“How is trust evaluated? By testing it.” He showed me his palms. Ragged cuts and dried blood marked both. He’d dug his nails in! “It was everything I could do to keep control of myself.”
Crazy man! “Why is it so important? Any other guy would’ve just done it.”
He squared his shoulders, as if proud of what he was about to say. “I reminded myself that if I broke my promise, I could lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I whispered. “Me?”
“You, ángel.”
But I wasn’t an angel. I was so far from it.
“Those bites of pain were well worth my reward.” He rose, unfolding his tall frame. My gaze locked on his dick.
How would I make it through another night without sex?
He headed to my bathroom, giving me the view of his powerful back and shoulders, his lean hips. . . .
His ass.
Good thing I’m not standing.
His taut cheeks were sculpted with hollows on the sides. The play of contracting muscles taunted my nails to dig into them. I wanted to grip that flesh as he pounded me. I imagined nipping him there, and a whimper escaped my lips.
He paused, then walked on, saying, “Are you objectifying me, Vika?”
A laugh bubbled up.
When he returned, he pulled on his clothes before my rapt gaze. I kept thinking, That god of a man just came from my bed. . . .
Dressed, he sat beside me. “I am pleased we have things settled now.”
“Settled?” Oh. That.
“You and I are exclusive with one another.”
As I stared into his thrall eyes, I figured, Well, we could be exclusive.
Ah! I dragged my gaze away. “I can’t look at you.”
He pinched my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Why, ángel?” Hurt flashed across his expression.
“Because I feel as if I’m under some kind of spell. You look at me like this, and I can’t think. And worse, I can’t seem to tell you no.”
“Then never tell me no.”
“You’re crazy.” I bit my tongue as soon as the words left it. I hadn’t meant to say it earlier either.
“Yes. I am on occasion. But tonight I wasn’t.”
I needed to get to the bottom of this. There were different levels and types of crazy, right? He was probably just a social oddball, an eccentric—
“I have a gift for you.”
Gift???
He reached into a jacket pocket. “Close your eyes, and keep them closed.”
I did.
“I hope you like diamonds.” Cool metal glided over my collarbones and neck. The strand was heavy. “You can look now.”
I gasped at the necklace. A dozen large diamonds were spaced randomly down a platinum chain, each one set in a bezel of tiny sapphires. The stones came in all different shapes: oval, pear, marquise, triangular. The necklace had no discernible pattern. I loved it!
Though ridiculously picky about clothes and jewelry, I could wear this piece forever. “Are you dicking with me?”
“No. I am not.”
I dragged my gaze from the sparkling rocks. “Ah, you do want to be my sugar daddy. A piece of jewelry for an orgasm. It is Vegas after all.”
“If I paid you what that orgasm was worth to me, I’d be back in the research lab because I would be penniless.”
And here comes the charm. I couldn’t stop a grin.
“I gave you that necklace because it’s a good start for your collection. I warn you now, I will spoil you to an embarrassing degree.”
I tilted my head. “You’re not the first man to tell me things like this. To make promises.”
“Then I’ll be the first man smart enough to keep them. I will pick you up tomorrow at one. Pack for warm weather.” I got the sense that leaving me pained him. As soon as the thought occurred, he informed me, “This will be the last night I part from you.”
I couldn’t allow myself to believe the promise in his eyes—because it was way too soon. Plus, he was a man.
But what if . . . ?
At the door, he said, “Have sweet dreams, moy ángel. Mine will be of you.”
What if, what if, what if? Once he’d locked me in and I heard the limo leave, I squealed with happiness, drumming my feet on the bed.
CHAPTER 19
At ten till one, a knock sounded. I was still in my underwear! “Just a sec,” I called, shimmying past my overnight bag to reach my closet.
I grabbed a simple black linen sheath I’d made. The shortest part of the asymmetrical hem hit just above my knees. I smoothed my hands down the front, proud of my work, then stepped into pointy-toed black pumps.
My gaze lit on my new necklace, laid out on my duvet. Last night, I’d sent a picture of it to the family’s conference line along with a message: Got drama from night before worked out with Sevastyan. Had great dinner. Going on trip tomorrow at 1:00. All good. Please, sleep better.
After I’d signed off, I’d danced naked to A-ha while I packed. I was dying of curiosity about our “warm” destination.
This morning, Karin had called for a real update.
He pulled back the cover. “In you go.”
I dutifully crawled under. “Have I lost all your respect?”
“There are many things I feel for you right now. Respect is among them.”
“How did you keep from fucking me?” The way his cock had strained . . .
“How is trust evaluated? By testing it.” He showed me his palms. Ragged cuts and dried blood marked both. He’d dug his nails in! “It was everything I could do to keep control of myself.”
Crazy man! “Why is it so important? Any other guy would’ve just done it.”
He squared his shoulders, as if proud of what he was about to say. “I reminded myself that if I broke my promise, I could lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I whispered. “Me?”
“You, ángel.”
But I wasn’t an angel. I was so far from it.
“Those bites of pain were well worth my reward.” He rose, unfolding his tall frame. My gaze locked on his dick.
How would I make it through another night without sex?
He headed to my bathroom, giving me the view of his powerful back and shoulders, his lean hips. . . .
His ass.
Good thing I’m not standing.
His taut cheeks were sculpted with hollows on the sides. The play of contracting muscles taunted my nails to dig into them. I wanted to grip that flesh as he pounded me. I imagined nipping him there, and a whimper escaped my lips.
He paused, then walked on, saying, “Are you objectifying me, Vika?”
A laugh bubbled up.
When he returned, he pulled on his clothes before my rapt gaze. I kept thinking, That god of a man just came from my bed. . . .
Dressed, he sat beside me. “I am pleased we have things settled now.”
“Settled?” Oh. That.
“You and I are exclusive with one another.”
As I stared into his thrall eyes, I figured, Well, we could be exclusive.
Ah! I dragged my gaze away. “I can’t look at you.”
He pinched my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Why, ángel?” Hurt flashed across his expression.
“Because I feel as if I’m under some kind of spell. You look at me like this, and I can’t think. And worse, I can’t seem to tell you no.”
“Then never tell me no.”
“You’re crazy.” I bit my tongue as soon as the words left it. I hadn’t meant to say it earlier either.
“Yes. I am on occasion. But tonight I wasn’t.”
I needed to get to the bottom of this. There were different levels and types of crazy, right? He was probably just a social oddball, an eccentric—
“I have a gift for you.”
Gift???
He reached into a jacket pocket. “Close your eyes, and keep them closed.”
I did.
“I hope you like diamonds.” Cool metal glided over my collarbones and neck. The strand was heavy. “You can look now.”
I gasped at the necklace. A dozen large diamonds were spaced randomly down a platinum chain, each one set in a bezel of tiny sapphires. The stones came in all different shapes: oval, pear, marquise, triangular. The necklace had no discernible pattern. I loved it!
Though ridiculously picky about clothes and jewelry, I could wear this piece forever. “Are you dicking with me?”
“No. I am not.”
I dragged my gaze from the sparkling rocks. “Ah, you do want to be my sugar daddy. A piece of jewelry for an orgasm. It is Vegas after all.”
“If I paid you what that orgasm was worth to me, I’d be back in the research lab because I would be penniless.”
And here comes the charm. I couldn’t stop a grin.
“I gave you that necklace because it’s a good start for your collection. I warn you now, I will spoil you to an embarrassing degree.”
I tilted my head. “You’re not the first man to tell me things like this. To make promises.”
“Then I’ll be the first man smart enough to keep them. I will pick you up tomorrow at one. Pack for warm weather.” I got the sense that leaving me pained him. As soon as the thought occurred, he informed me, “This will be the last night I part from you.”
I couldn’t allow myself to believe the promise in his eyes—because it was way too soon. Plus, he was a man.
But what if . . . ?
At the door, he said, “Have sweet dreams, moy ángel. Mine will be of you.”
What if, what if, what if? Once he’d locked me in and I heard the limo leave, I squealed with happiness, drumming my feet on the bed.
CHAPTER 19
At ten till one, a knock sounded. I was still in my underwear! “Just a sec,” I called, shimmying past my overnight bag to reach my closet.
I grabbed a simple black linen sheath I’d made. The shortest part of the asymmetrical hem hit just above my knees. I smoothed my hands down the front, proud of my work, then stepped into pointy-toed black pumps.
My gaze lit on my new necklace, laid out on my duvet. Last night, I’d sent a picture of it to the family’s conference line along with a message: Got drama from night before worked out with Sevastyan. Had great dinner. Going on trip tomorrow at 1:00. All good. Please, sleep better.
After I’d signed off, I’d danced naked to A-ha while I packed. I was dying of curiosity about our “warm” destination.
This morning, Karin had called for a real update.
