Lexi #2
When we finally enter the diamond in the sky, the lights are low. The golden city surrounds us, the buildings shining bright.
Easton smiles, capturing my attention in a snap. In moments like this, I have a hard time remembering who I was before I unapologetically barged into this man’s life.
“Home sweet home,” I say, seeing my new books we bought in Texas stacked high on the counter.
Easton yawns, and I can see how tired he is.
“Shall we go to bed?” I ask, and he loops his finger into mine as we climb the stairs.
“Do you want to pick a room?”
I laugh and he tilts his head.
“Yours.”
He grabs my elbow, brushing his thumb against my skin, and smiles. “Ours. Only confirming you haven’t changed your mind about us.”
“I’m not leaving the center of whatever mattress you’re sleeping on unless you want me to,” I admit.
“So, never. Got it.” He gives me a boyish grin and I nearly melt right there.
Easton takes a quick shower and I jump in with him as we rinse the day off our bodies. Then, we climb between his silk sheets and he holds me against his chest. I fall asleep to the calm sound of his beating heart.
My eyes flutter open with Easton’s cock pressed into my back. His breathing is smooth and even and I know he’s still sleeping. I glance out at the twinkling lights of the surrounding buildings and let out a content sigh, wishing I knew what the future held.
“Go to sleep,” Easton whispers in my ear. His voice is a sexy gruff.
I suck in a deep breath and smile on an exhale.
I want my thoughts to let me go so I can drift off to dreamland with him again, but my mind races. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I know,” he says. “Meet me for lunch tomorrow.”
“Burgers?”
“I’d love that,” he tells me, his chin on my shoulder.
His breath floats against the nape of my neck, his chest against my bare back. His hand slides into my panties and I sigh heavily when he touches me.
“Fuck,” he growls as my hips buck forward, giving him access to my wet slit.
It doesn’t matter how much of him I have; I always ache for more.
I bite on my bottom lip, knowing it won’t take much to get me off. My breathing turns into pants, and soon, I’m sliding out of my panties. Easton is on top of me, burying himself deep inside. I grab on to the sheets with my fists as he pumps into me.
“Easton,” I groan, opening my thighs, wanting him to break me in half. “I want to feel where you’ve been tomorrow.”
“Mmm, you will,” he says as I cry out, the pleasure too much to bear.
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “So fucking in love.”
And like a summer breeze, we’re whisked away, chasing total ecstasy and finding it together. The two of us collapse after only temporarily satisfying an insatiable hunger.
The next time I wake, I reach over to an empty California king. Where he was is cold to the touch. Based on how high the bright sun is, Easton’s been gone for hours.
I notice a small sheet of paper on the nightstand.
The outside reads, One Week Married to You.
I open it, and there’s a drawing of me sleeping in bed this morning.
I glance at the vantage point, knowing exactly where he was standing as he drew this, and I can imagine him there with the intense expression on his beautiful face as he sketched everything, down to the knobs on the drawers of the nightstand.
The detail of my hair, the crumpled blankets, and the curve of my back are impressive.
When I unlock my phone, I see it’s ten minutes until ten. It’s the latest I’ve slept in since I crashed into Easton at the W. I needed sleep after gallivanting around the world with a man I’d only dreamed existed.
I go downstairs, wearing one of Easton’s T-shirts, and move to the kitchen.
I stand on my tiptoes and grab my mug from the cabinet, pulling it down and sliding it under the espresso machine.
After looking around the gadget, I press a button on top.
A song plays, the beans grind, and seconds later, a beautiful, dark espresso drips into my cup.
“No way,” I say, glancing down at the crema floating at the top. I swirl it around, inhaling it.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Easton says from a speaker on the counter. His face pops up on the screen.
I lean over and rest my chin on my hand. “Good morning, hubby.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Better with you,” I mutter, not fully awake.
“Those panties,” he says. “Mmm. My only regret is not being there right now.”
I look over my shoulder and notice the cameras in the corners of the rooms. Having cameras inside your house is a rich people thing. “Lunch still?”
“Yes,” he says, checking his watch. “A car will be there for you in forty minutes.”
“Forty?”
He nods. “Please don’t be late.”
“I’ll be ready, just for you,” I tell him, blowing on the hot liquid.
He smirks and the screen goes black.
“I know you’re still watching,” I say, glancing around at the cameras as I sit on one of the eight stools that line his long marble counter. “Oh, wow, this coffee is great. Kudos. Guess you do have good taste.” I snicker and lift the mug.
“Alexis,” Easton says from the monitor on the counter.
I glance over my shoulder at him, and it’s almost like he’s here.
“You’re distracting me.”
“Stop making it so easy,” I say. “I’m sitting here, minding my business, drinking espresso.”
“Looking like a cocktease.” He chuckles. “I have to be in a meeting in two minutes. I’m sure everyone is waiting for me.”
He stands, showing me his pants and how his cock is nearly bursting the seams. The outline of him in his suit pants is a fucking sight to see. But I know how it feels to want someone so damn bad that it hurts—him specifically.
He shakes his head and sits back in his chair. “But I’m so fucking hungry for you.”
A mischievous grin sweeps across my face and I flip my hair over to one side as I move closer to the screen, like it will give us privacy.
“Why don’t you have me for lunch instead?”
His eyes flutter closed as he scoots further back in his chair. He’s contemplating it.
“I might be bad for business,” I whisper.
“But fucking fantastic for me, darling. Tempting, but I have to go. Have a wonderful day, and I’ll see you soon.” He blows me a kiss.
I catch it, wanting to steal his attention a little longer, but refuse to be his greatest distraction. “You too.”
The video chat ends, for real this time, and I lean against the counter. Neither of us is wrapped around the other’s finger; we’re handcuffed together, and there is no key.
I glance at the pink diamond, the stone he reserved for the one. And it’s on my finger.
I walk to the windows and view the park below. It’s busy with people enjoying the summer weather.