Page 108 of Broken Beyond Repair
“Yes, but this one was particularly stunning, as were you when I unzipped it and you were wearing nothing underneath.”
“Go on.”
“I noticed you didn’t have a cast on, and then I woke up before I’d even managed to taste you.”
“Then what did you do?” Beatrice asked, attractive creases forming around her mouth.
“Erm.” Sydney’s cheeks flushed as she lost eye contact with Beatrice.
“You didn’t! Over your employer? Oh, Sydney. I’m sure that would have been grounds for dismissal.”
“And what about every time I ogled this butt?” Sydney asked, reaching around for a handful, pulling Beatrice that little bit closer.
“Well, that’s different. I was ogling too.”
Sydney smirked and shuffled herself forward, placing a kiss on Beatrice’s cheekbones. “That… I’ve been dying to do that since we met.”
“Really?” Beatrice’s eyebrows lifted. “The day we met.”
“Well, no,” Sydney admitted. “I wanted to slap them then and for a short time after.”
“It’s good to know your self-restraint kicks in with slapping, but not pleasuring yourself whilst thinking about an employer.”
Beatrice yawned and stretched.
Sydney ran her fingers along the inside of her outstretched arm, over her armpit and around her breast. “Should I fetch us some coffee?”
“Fuck the coffee. Fuck me instead.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“I’m not asking. It’s an order, Sydney.”
Sydney climbed on top of her, straddling her. Leaning over, she placed another kiss on each of her cheekbones, sliding her fingers over the creases that surfaced at the sides of Beatrice’s mouth as she smiled.
“You know how I love to follow your orders,” she said. “I’m never going to stop fucking you.”
“Very good.”
Sydney quivered, not only at her words but at the fact Beatrice chose her over her morning coffee. She was going to thank her for it — very, very slowly.
CHAPTER39
Sydney slid the key card into the door of the £7000 per night suite in the Balmoral Hotel. Beatrice’s luggage was already waiting for them in the hallway. All four brand-new Gucci suitcases were lined up next to each other. Dropping her old, shabby North Face rucksack beside them, she smiled at the metaphor for their relationship. In this instance Beatrice really was Gucci. She’d been announced as ambassador for the brand earlier that week.
Beatrice swept past her, dropping her gloves onto the hall table as she passed.
“Wow, this is something,” Sydney said, following Beatrice through a spacious bedroom and into the sitting room beyond.
Beatrice didn’t give it a second look. Like a moth to a light, she headed for the roaring fire in the hearth. “Get used to it.”
“More than happy to. Did you need a nap before we go out?”
“Sydney, I’m fifty-one, not two, and I don’t need a nap after the shortest flight I’ve ever taken.”
“We’ll go straight out then?”
Beatrice swivelled on her heel to frown at Sydney. “Can’t we at least order coffee and sit down first?”
