Page 97 of How to Bang a Billionaire

Ngh. So good.

Okay. Right. Enough of that.

I sat down at a safe distance from the food and in sight of the door. Looking forward to the moment that Caspian Hart would walk through it.

And come to me.

Seven thirty.

Huh.

Well, it was London.

And he was a super-busy man.

I went to find my phone, just in case there were any messages.

Nope.

Hmm.

What if he’d said half seven? Or eight? Or tomorrow?

No, he’d said seven.

Could sushi get cold? Or warm? Or whatever.

Go off, it could definitely go off.

Great. After begging him to spend the night with me I was going to poison him with raw fish.

Maybe I should text him. Except that would look insanely clingy.

He was barely late.

Well, under an hour late. That probably counted as barely late for someone like him.

And if dinner was a bust, I’d just have to make sure dessert—i.e., me—was substantially satisfying.

Wow, seductively waiting for someone was boring.

I hit the study to retrieve my copy of Milieu, figuring paper still had the edge on machines when it came to being joyfully thrown aside as your lover arrived. Read an article about whether smoking jackets would ever be sexy again.

If nothing else, it inspired to me to reconsider my setup. It was fairly decadent, I thought. But there was always room for more.

Putting Milieu down, I opened the apartment app and cranked the heat right up. Then I took off all my clothes and arranged myself in what I hoped was an alluring fashion. One leg resting very carefully on the edge of the table, hands behind my head, my body all stretched out and slender. Best I could manage since I wasn’t exactly the gym bunny type and it…well, it showed. But I could be sexy in my own way, right?

Honestly, I felt pretty sexy sometimes. At least, when I was having sex and somebody was pounding into me, all sweat and skin and soul-deep groans.

Perched on a chair with my bum sticking and my bits dangling? Not so much.

Eight fifteen.

My eye fell on the tie and jacket he’d left that morning.

What if I…uh…accessorized? It would be one way of demonstrating I was absolutely and enthusiastically on board with the things he was into.

I approached the tie casually. As if I was underconfidently cruising it.

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