Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
Sabine
We spend day one of our “vacation,” reading by the pool—and by reading, I mean Astor staring blankly into the distance with a closed book on his lap.
By day two, I’m sick of it. Astor has to snap out of this harmful trance he’s in. So, the moment his eyes open, I demand that for the next twenty-four hours everything we do must involve either sex or alcohol. Preferably, both. Two things sure to calm Astor and return his focus on me—and me only.
I’m in the bathroom, getting ready for dinner, when Astor appears in the doorway. For the first time since leaving the beach house, his face is relaxed.
I smile, turn, and take him in. He’s wearing a salmon-colored dress shirt, untucked, linen pants that do nothing to hide the bulge between his legs, and flip flops. Impossibly handsome.
He takes in the red lingerie I’m wearing.
“It’s the set you got me on our first date, remember?”
“Yes.” His eyes meet mine, the spark of heat unmistakable.
Well, hello. There’s my man.
He advances, reaching for me, and begins running his hands over my curves. I abandon the eyeliner on the counter and wrap my arms around his neck.
“As much as I’d love to take you right here on this counter,” he growls in my ear, “we have to be upstairs in five minutes.”
I pull back, frown. “I thought we were doing room service tonight?”
“Not anymore.” He smiles adoringly and kisses the tip of my nose. “I know I’ve been distant, and I want to make tonight special. For starters, I have a surprise for you in the closet.”
“A little black dress?”
“A very little black dress.” He playfully pops a palm against my ass. “You have five minutes, my beautiful goddess.”
Ten minutes later, we arrive at the stunning rooftop bar. Everything is black, gold, mirror, and glass. The sun is just beginning to set over the San Jacinto mountains, spreading a golden glow over the desert below. A streak of pink clouds color the sky, fading into a deep indigo blue.
I’m so awestruck at the view that I don’t immediately notice that we are alone in the bar, even though it’s seven o’clock.
“Where is everyone?”
“Just you and me tonight, darling.”
“You rented out the entire top floor of the hotel?”
He shrugs. “Easy to do when you own it.”
“Mr. Stone,” a blond bombshell greets us. “Wonderful to see you. I’ve got your table set up outside as requested.”
“I can’t believe you,” I whisper as he threads his fingers through mine.
“Consider this an ‘I’m sorry’ for my behavior lately.”
“Consider this my forgiveness.” I raise his hand and tap a kiss on his healing knuckles.
Hand in hand, we follow the hostess to a round table sitting under the sunset. Behind it is an infinity pool that melts into the desert below.
A white linen cloth covers the table. What seems like a million candles surround us, on the table, on the floor, hanging from the pergola above.
“It’s stunning,” I say.
“It’s you.” Astor smiles, sweeps a strand of hair behind my ear. “Let’s relax.”
“Done.” I wink.
Two hours, five courses, and two bottles of five-hundred-dollar wine later, I am delightfully drunk and endlessly happy.
Astor takes my hand, pulling me up.
“Ready for a swim, darling?”
I look at the sparkling blue water, then back at him. “I didn’t bring up my swimsuit, darling.”
“You don’t need it.”
I cock a brow, glance over my shoulder at the emptiness of the bar behind us. The waitstaff have obviously been ordered to leave us alone, making rare appearances to refill our drinks or deliver our food.
The corner of my lip curves with the kind of confidence that comes with having drunk a bottle of wine in under two hours.
Astor grins at my reaction, and begins unbuttoning his shirt.
Nerves tickle my stomach as he pulls it off and drapes it over the back of the chair, his eyes never leaving mine.
I begin taking off my jewelry, enjoying the strip tease in front of me.
The boxer briefs come off and, with a wink, Astor strides into the pool with a full erection, and a body chiseled from stone.
I laugh. “What I would give to have your confidence.”
“So have it.”
I snort. “Okay.”
“It’s that easy.”
“Is it?” I look over my shoulder again, ensuring we are still alone as I grab the zipper on the side of my dress.
“Yes, it’s that easy. Simply disregard what people think of you. Screw them, Sabine. Who cares? Screw ’em.”
I tilt my head to the side, smirking. “Okay, big shot, screw ’em. Screw ’em all.”
I slip out of my dress and lingerie and stand above him in nothing but six-inch red patent heels.
His eyes twinkle. He swims to me, beacons me with his finger.
Feeling gloriously free and surprisingly empowered, I kick out of the heels and kneel by him.
Astor surges out of the water, grabs my shoulder and pulls me into the pool.
We breach laughing, soaking wet and entangled in each other’s arms.
Under the water, his hands trace my curves. “Nice, huh?”
Still laughing, I sweep the hair from my face. “Something like that.”
His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Come here.”
He guides me to the far side of the pool. There, he pulls me to him, spins me around, and presses my back against the side.
I yelp. “Astor!”
“The jets are strong aren't they?” A devilish grin crosses his face.
“Uh, yeah, and blasting against a very— very —private part.”
“Relax.”
“Astor—”
“Relax and close your eyes.”
I laugh and close my eyes, blushing.
My senses heighten as his hands glide down my breasts, my curves, and cup my pussy, gently pushing me harder against the jet.
I whimper.
“Keep your eyes closed and relax,” he whispers, trailing his tongue against my ear.
“I’m trying.”
His lips slide over mine while, under water, his finger glides through my folds.
I exhale, feeling the world begin to drift away.
Once wet and ready, he repositions his thumb against my clit, and slips a finger inside me; one, then two.
“Now lean against me, my beautiful butterfly.”
I do, allowing the whirling pressure to rush over my asshole while he finger fucks my pussy. Between the pressure of the water spreading me open, his fingers inside me, and his thumb smoothing my clit, I feel like a harem of men are servicing me. I imagine it, the taboo of it all, and find myself surging with tingles.
I drop my head on his shoulder and wrap my arms around. “Oh, Astor.”
“Don’t come for me yet baby.”
Just as I feel like I’m about to explode, I’m lifted out of the water and placed on the edge of the pool. I lean back on my hands as Astor pulls up my knees and rests my heels on the lip just below water.
Strings of wet hair drape over my shoulders, snaking around my aching, naked breasts as I stare down at him, my throbbing pussy on full display.
“I want to taste you.” He spreads my knees wider and massages my thighs. “Such a beautiful tight cunt you have. It’s mine. All mine. Remember, Sabine, it’s all mine.”
Our eyes lock as he lowers into the water, lining up his face between my legs.
I thread my fingers through his wet hair as he feasts on my pussy, rhythmically lapping my lips, then circling my clit before clamping down and suckling, over and over again.
I moan, licking my lips.
Anyone could be watching us right now, and the thought sends heat surging through my body.
It’s sexy as hell.
His fingertip circles my asshole. I moan, I lay back, breasts full and aching as the billion-dollar man ravages my pussy and explores me in the most intimate way.
I drop my head over the ledge of the pool, the twinkling lights from the buildings below sparkling like jewels in the desert. My gaze drifts from building to building, the hundreds of windows all pointing at us.
Between the sensation between my legs, the wine, and the head rush from being upside down, I grow dizzy.
I’m flying.
I feel like I’ve taken some sort of psychedelic drug.
It’s glorious.
The orgasm rips through me wave after wave after wave.
I’m brought back to earth by the distant sound of a cell phone ringing incessantly.
Frowning, I lift my head, squinting from the head rush.
“What’s that?”
“Cillian’s direct line to me.” Astor frowns. “I never turn it off. It’s for emergencies only.”
After helping me off the edge and back into the pool, Astor swims across the pool and hurries to the table.
Wading to the other side, I watch as his face drops.
He hangs up, looks at me.
My stomach sinks.
“That was Cillian. Valerie’s very sick. We need to get back.”