Chapter 37
Chapter thirty-seven
Amy
I lie back in the bath, warm bubbly water sloshing around me as I wriggle to get comfortable. The heat loosens every muscle I didn’t know was clenched tight. I find myself humming away merrily to an unknown tune.
My toes curl around the cool porcelain edge of the tub while foam slides in slow trails down my shin. Warmth seeps deep into my bones, and for the first time today, my shoulders unhook from my ears.
My stomach flutters with thoughts of what tonight will bring. My first Valentine’s Day with Ivan, and he has plans. The not knowing is delicious and maddening all at once.
After Terry left, I thought romance and love were done for me. The word ‘love’ would claw at my throat anytime it was mentioned. A movie with a happy ever after would knock me sideways. Every love story a precise stab to my heart.
Meeting someone else didn’t seem possible. I’d already had a life with my soulmate. That’s what I told myself.
But these past few months have proved to me it’s possible to move forward and love again, even if you’ve been knocked sideways by the challenges thrown at you. It still scares me how happiness can turn to ash in a second. But tonight, for once, my fear of losing is quiet beneath the hope.
My phone vibrates on the counter beside me. I wipe my hands on the towel perched on the edge of the tub and reach for it.
I can’t wait to see you, sweetheart. Tonight is going to be special. I’m expecting huge rewards. xoxo
Smirking, I ponder my reply. Since Thailand, our pre-date routine has become a string of spicy messages. It’s amazing foreplay to our late-night shenanigans. Every image sent, a promise of what’s to come.
Sex with him keeps getting better. He’s attentive, stalking my body for clues about what I enjoy and what I don’t. His focus is endearing. It makes me feel wanted, not tolerated. Important, without being a hindrance. Chosen by him for who I am.
I have major expectations, Mr. Harley. You’ve set the bar high in our previous meetings. xoxo
My phone lights up almost immediately with his reply.
I’d much rather have a bar spreading your legs. It could be arranged. xoxo
The burn rages low in my belly, the kind that steals your breath. The idea of my legs being held apart, his mouth eating me, and there being nothing I can do to relieve the tension except come, is erotic. I close my eyes, imagining the scenario.
Yes, that is something I want to experience being at his complete mercy. Shackled, wide open for him to do as he pleases with me.
Add it to the “To Do” list. xoxo
Already added and scheduled. See you in an hour, sweetheart. xoxo
***
I’ve reapplied the racy red lipstick multiple times since pulling my fitted dress over my hips.
My eyes are dark with lashings of mascara.
A thin silver line edges the lid, extending in a cat’s eye beyond.
My holiday glow is still there—just. It makes me feel like a woman put together, not the one who’s been holding on by a thread for years.
The deep V-shape of the neckline accentuates the roundness of my breasts, pushed up as high as they can go. Sheer stockings disappear below the hemline. My choice to go commando will be a pleasant surprise for him later.
The front door opens as I slip on my killer heels. It’s serious: I gave him a key.
Ivan appears; he fills my bedroom doorway. Those blazing-blue eyes lock on mine.
“Good evening, sweetheart,” he says. “Am I allowed to sample the merchandise?” He’s beside me in three strides, takes my face between his hands, planting his lips on mine.
“My lipstick,” I mumble as my blood heats.
“Fuck your lipstick. You’re lucky I’m not bending you over here and now, looking like that.”
He kisses me again, conquering my mouth. His tongue sweeps across, touching everywhere, consuming me. He pulls back, and I stand there, breathless and aroused.
My eyes meet my reflection in the mirror. A bright red smudge on my flawless skin. Without a word, I take a washcloth and remove the mess before reapplying to perfection. He watches on. Silent, but captivating.
“We better go,” he whispers, “before I rip your dress to shreds. Your tits look incredible. I’ll need to control myself at dinner.”
Hungry eyes drop to my breasts. I run my fingers over the telltale bulge in his trousers. The sound that squeezes past his lips is nothing but need. I squeeze, then let go.
“That is the most stimulating sound in the world,” I whisper sexily. “It sounds even better when you make it as I ride you.” His eyes burn as he steps toward me. I move back and wag my finger. “Not until after you’ve fed me. You promised me a special night, remember?”
“Fuck’s sake, let’s go,” he snarls, taking my hand and leading me from the room.
I snatch my jacket from the back of the sofa as we pass. As I wriggle into it, I let go of his hand. His head snaps round with a scowl.
“I need to be touching you, Amy. Your body needs to be connected to mine. When there is space between us, I feel unfinished.”
“Are you becoming clingy, Mr. Harley? What happened to the hard-nosed businessman I met?”
“He fell in love,” he whispers.
Everything spins, my world tilting on its axis. My eyes lock on the white UPVC of my door, a feeble attempt to center myself. Thrill skitters over my skin, every nerve on edge, caught somewhere between ecstasy and fear.
“You love me?” My voice cracks. Something bursts in my rib cage, thudding hard against the bone. All the hope and tension I’ve been holding onto twist together; this could be the admission that breaks me all over again. He loves me.
“I do,” he confirms. “I love you.”
My mouth dries as both excitement and nerves dance in my belly. I brave a glance at him. He’s watching me, awaiting my reaction. A shy smile spreads across my face.
As much as I’ve tried to squash the idea, the one where I could be happy again and believe any relationship could last long enough to be truly settled with someone, these past months have shown me that I can love again.
And as hard as it is, I need to step off the ledge and take the chance. I deserve it.
“I’m falling in love with you too,” I murmur. “I never thought something like this would happen to me again.”
“Shall we go celebrate then?” he asks, taking my hands in his. “Celebrate that love has found us both when we needed it?” His face lowers to mine, and I shoot my hand between us. His lips connect with my palm.
“You’re not ruining my lipstick again,” I grumble. “I love you, but you can keep your kisses until later.” He chuckles then moves swiftly to kiss my cheek.
“I plan to kiss every bloody square inch of you, sweetheart.”
A huge golden sign hangs above cream archways displaying the name, Revere.
Each opening is glazed, and I can see straight into the opulent restaurant beyond.
The room is filled with small round tables that seat two people, each one laid with white linen and sparkling silver cutlery.
Ivan holds my hand as we climb the marble steps toward the front door.
We walk into a foyer with a domed ceiling and an exquisite chandelier hanging at its center. A woman stands behind a long dark-wood counter, her appearance pristine, not a hair out of place.
“Good evening, Mr. Harley,” she says. “Your dining room is ready. Please follow me.”
At the top of the private staircase, she pushes open a heavy wooden door.
“Ladies first,” Ivan says, gesturing for me to lead the way.
I step into a small room―it’s more like a box. Three sides are glass. A table, set for two in the center, holds a huge bouquet of red roses surrounded by fine china and silverware.
As I move forward, the rest of the restaurant comes into view through the glass. Table after table of people enjoying their meals. We have a bird's-eye view of the whole place.
“This is incredible,” I murmur almost to myself.
“One of the hottest tickets in town,” he agrees. “They have the most amazing tasting menu for us to enjoy. I wanted you to experience it, but didn’t want to have to share you with anyone else this evening.” I turn to him, and he smiles half-unsure. “Is it all right?”
“All right?” I repeat. “Ivan, this is astonishing. I’ve never seen anywhere like it. It’s perfect.”
A waiter arrives with two flutes of champagne. Ivan takes them both and passes one to me. He raises his glass and clinks it with mine.
“To being in love,” he toasts. “To finding the person you need in the world.”
His words hit square in my chest. Steady, certain like his hand on my lower back as we climbed the plane stairs in Thailand. He means every damn word. I believe him.
We take our seats, and soon, the first course is placed in front of us. With every delicious plate, my wine glass is filled with a corresponding wine. By the end of the evening, I’m flushed and incredibly tipsy.
While listening to Ivan talk about his business and plans, I rest my elbow on the table, laying my head on my palm.
With my head cocked to one side, I watch his lips move as he speaks. His voice transforms into a soothing, melodic rhythm. Those lips and the pleasure they bring, still fresh in my memory, make me smirk.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, startling me.
“I was wondering how many hours your lips have been on my skin.” His eyes darken, and he adjusts himself in his seat.
“I couldn’t decide if they’ve been on my pussy or sucking my nipples more.
Both have enjoyed plenty of attention. Perhaps we need to start tracking the time spent on each area to ensure fair representation. ”
“That would take a lot of research to ensure it was a decent experiment,” he replies. “Both areas are appealing, though I believe my natural instinct is to bury myself between your legs. I plan to do so later if you’ll allow me. But I’m unsure if this evening has met your expectations.”
“This evening has surpassed any expectations I’ve ever had. It’s been magical. Shall we go home and continue our research?”
“That sounds agreeable.”