THIRTEEN
HOW LONG HAD it been since she’d sent the text?
Ten minutes? Maybe fifteen? Even if he’d been given the same spiel by Jane about not seeing her, Zairn wouldn’t ignore her text.
It had been two weeks. Two weeks, for goodness’ sake!
Her man was probably verging on manic. She had a responsibility to the company, their employees, her friend, to ensure his stability.
Stocks crashed when he didn’t get enough relief.
This wasn’t a selfish indulgence, it was a necessity. Selfless. For his health… and hers.
In the Platinum Suite, she set everything up then ducked into the bathroom.
He’d be back. Soon. She’d check the tracker on her phone except the thing was downstairs in a dock.
Where was the applause? Not her fault it was like three in the morning and the thing was long dead…
To send the text, she’d had to plug it in.
There should be points, and applause, for that.
Okay, so she hadn’t needed to go hunting—Astrid set everything up—but it was an improvement on neglecting the duty entirely, was it not?
One she’d made for altruistic reasons… for her man, for his needs, and their love. Yes, she’d come up with this caper all by herself, built it up in her mind, but it hadn’t been guaranteed. This was all her. No one else knew.
She couldn’t see him, wouldn’t. Nope, she’d come up with a plan that complied with all the rules, superstitious ones or not. And, yes, she needed a phone, but it didn’t have to be her cellphone. There was a phone in the suite bathroom, she’d used it in the past.
She didn’t hear the suite door close. She did hear his footsteps and what sounded like his jacket being tossed aside. That’s it, baby, get comfortable.
Picking up the handset, she dialed for an outside line then typed in the only phone number she knew by heart.
He picked up pretty quick. “Feeling nostalgic?”
“That was a different city,” she said, her lips curling.
“Same message.”
Nice that he could remember a text message from so long ago.
“And, bonus for you, this time I did message you for sex.”
“Mm hmm. Jane says we’re not to see each other tonight.”
“And we won’t.” She wandered as far as the cord on the phone would let her, before retracing her steps. “I left a present for you on the bar.”
“A present, huh?” Mm, his intrigue was enticing. “Thought we’d do those tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow, Casanova. It’s our wedding day.”
“So I’m told,” he said. “What’s this for?”
“Put it on.”
“Lo—”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” It was a zip of excitement, the heat of possibilities. Damnit, she’d missed him. “We’re not allowed to see each other, and we won’t. A blindfold is not breaking any rules.”
“Shame.” His swagger was on form. “I like breaking rules with you.”
That’s what she wanted to hear. “Have you missed me, Casanova?”
“Rourke and Roux have a rule they always travel together.”
“And we have a rule to always come back together.” Their lives were far less contained than the other couple’s. “Did you tell the guys?”
“Knox did, yeah,” Zairn said. “They’ll tell their women.”
The wheels were in motion.
“Oh, it’s out there, no going back now,” she said, imagining how Jane might squee. “How did he tell them?”
“He had to come up with something when they found out he wasn’t taking Jane to bed tonight.”
Funny… though not surprising.
“So it’s all about sex, huh?” she teased with mock almost affront. Yeah, she wasn’t pulling it off. How could she when filled with excitement at the prospect of being near him again? “They thought nothing of it but wouldn’t buy that he wasn’t going to get laid when the option was right there?”
“Jane’s an attractive woman. I almost didn’t believe it either and I know his reasons.”
“Yet you mock my attempts to fulfill your desire.”
“Not mock,” he said. “Didn’t expect us to play tonight.”
“I’m surprised you’re surprised.” Talking wasn’t enough. “Do you have it on?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t be messing around, Casanova, I can’t break my promise to Jane. You put it on or we’re not getting married.”
“We are married.”
“Hush! Stop saying that where people might hear you.”
“Who?” he asked. “I’m alone. Did you bring a guest? Is that what we’re doing now? ‘Cause I’m sure Dunlap has that mistress woman’s number.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t remember her name. You remember everyone’s names.”
“I make a point of forgetting the names of people you want to sleep with.”
“One playmate at a time.” Her smile bloomed again. “I’m a one duck bunny.”
“You wearing one of these too?”
“I will be,” she said, fishing her padded satin blindfold from her purse.
“You are unique, Lola Bunny.”
“Stay by the bar. Don’t move.”
If he went wandering, this would be a different kind of game, the one preteens enjoyed, not the adult-only one she had in mind.
Thank goodness they were alone, what a picture she’d make after hanging up the phone to fumble her way through the suite, following walls and furniture until she walked into a barstool. Ouch, okay, that would leave a bruise.
Her fingertips trusted the back of one stool and went to the next as her other hand hung in midair waiting until… his body, oh, she knew that solid form. Both hands splayed as they slid up his torso.
“How do I know you’re my Lola Bunny?”
The vibration of his voice on her palm ran right through her. One hand went higher, seeking flesh to curl around the side of his neck and higher, into his hair above his nape.
“If you don’t recognize me in my touch by now,” she murmured, pulling him lower. “We’re getting a divorce.”
“One surefire way to do it.”
His breath warmed her lips a second before they met.
They’d kissed so many times she’d lost count.
The familiarity didn’t take away the thrill.
Nothing ever would. Their sex life was amazing, no doubting that, but the exhilaration of his kiss was like nothing else that existed anywhere in the universe and it never faded.
His lips retreated just a millimeter. “What made you think of this?”
“People keep telling me it’s my last night of freedom. Don’t I deserve to go wild?”
The warmth of his silent laugh was as welcome on her skin as his hands. “Yes, you do, baby.”
“If I’m free and wild, can I not choose to be free and wild with my best friend…
? And maybe a little bit naked?” It wasn’t wholly frivolous.
“I wanted to be with you,” she admitted in a murmur.
“I can’t be under the same roof as you and not…
be with you.” If she got too sappy, the blindfolds may not last. She switched it up.
“Besides, you haven’t hit your Roxie quota this month, Slacker. ”
He kissed her lips, her cheek, her jaw, skimming a hand into her hair at the side of her head to tip it back. His open mouth trailed down to kiss her carotid, to close and suck in a gentle kiss.
“Don’t you dare give me a hickey,” she said, joy quaking at the rumble of his low laugh buried against her.
How would she explain that one away in the wedding photographs without revealing their mischief? Who else could’ve given her the bruise if not the groom? The man she wasn’t supposed to see.
“Leaving my mark.”
He traced his lips back and forth, drugging her with their gentle caress. Man, he was good at that, good at everything. The angle of his head, the weight of it against her, but not, his kiss there, but not.
Her next exhale was all hormones. Mmm, two weeks was too long. They’d been apart for longer, yet it never got easier.
“Say it again,” she whispered. In that suite, on the night of their sort of engagement, she’d asked him the same thing. “Say it here in the dark.”
“I love you, Roxanna Kyst.”
He never hesitated, damn that was hot. Kissing her again, her head moved as his tracked around to her throat, one of his strong forearms hooked around her lower back to tug her off balance.
“Do I taste good, Casanova?”
His arm jerked her hard against him, scooping her off her feet. “Let’s find out.”
On instinct, when he bowed, her body braced, grabbing for his stability as he laid them on the floor right there… wherever they were.
He gathered her dress, seeking her lips, almost as if he thought he could distract her from him sliding off her panties. Yeah, there was no hiding that; her body screamed for his indulgence.
Their wedding day…
Unzipping her dress, she laid a hand on her blindfold to keep it in place to take the fabric off over her head.
“Hope you locked the door.”
The tip of his tongue circumnavigated her belly button. “We’ve been caught doing worse.”
“I don’t care about the sex,” she said, parting her legs further, giving his broad shoulders more room. “I care about the date.”
Yes, people had walked in on them having sex, or close to it, many times. That was what happened when living a life with so many people in it. And their laissez-faire attitude with employees and friends.
“Relax, Lola,” he said, kissing her clit. “I’ll make all your troubles fade away.”
Fade into him, that’s what she would do. He’d take all conscious thought and flush it if he kept doing that thing with his tongue she loved. On a moan, her hips rose, and he seized the advantage to yank her much closer.
Love. It did make sex better. And, for them at least, so had marriage.
The night they’d said their vows, he’d led her from this suite, by the hand, and made an honest woman of her.
She wasn’t scared or reluctant and, honestly?
She didn’t have troubles. Yes, money helped, but that wasn’t what she meant.
It wasn’t the cars and skyscrapers that filled her with a sense of peace.
That was her man. Even if they were pauper poor, they’d be okay, because they’d be together. Always. No take backs… that’s what he’d told her the night they got married…