Page 3 of Lovestruck at Sundown
“To say—hi.”
“He woke you up, älskling.” His lips moved to my neck again.
“I don’t mind.” I turned around and ran my finger along his eyebrow. “I’m sorry I wokeyouup.”
“Don’t be.”
“For a second, I forgot I was here. And since it’s late, I thought it was urgent. So I took the call.”
“Youforgotyou were here?” William spanked me and grabbed my ass to pick me up.
“Ow! And I did,” I confirmed, to keep teasing him. “Being here hasn’t proven to be a memorable experience.” I smiled and locked my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he carried me back inside.
He put me down against the edge of the bed and said, “Hike up that robe.” The right corner of his lips drew up into a cocky smile that reached his eyes.
“No.”
“Do it.” The smile was gone from his face. His tone was businesslike, and his gaze fixed on mine.
Like I would refuse him.
I lifted my robe, and his fingers slipped down my underwear, letting it fall on the floor.
“On your back.”
I rested my elbows on the bed and pushed myself back with my heels before lying down.
William pulled down his boxer briefs and tossed them to the side with his foot. He grabbed my ankles, brought me closer to the edge of the bed again, and knelt in front of me. He tossed mycalves over his shoulders and ran the flat of his tongue between my legs.
“Fuck,” I muttered, fisting the comforter with my hands.
He undid my robe’s belt and flung the flaps open, a hand sliding down my chest and belly, finally stopping at the apex of my legs. “Are you now well aware of your whereabouts, älskling?” he said, two fingers entering me, his blue eyes staring up into mine. “Or do I need—to fuck you—back—into reality?”
I chuckled, but it turned into a moan. “William.” My head fell back on the bed, and I shut my eyes.
“Answer that.”
“I’m still confused,” I said, stretching the game we were playing. “I don’t even know if you’re real. I might be making you up in my head.”
“So, is this the type of scene you see inside your head? When you think of me?” His tongue teased my inner thigh, not even close enough to where I wanted him. His fingers were already bringing me to the edge of my release. “Dirty mind. Forgetful … but dirty.”
“William …”
“Now tell me where we are,” he said, his fingers stopping abruptly but still inside me.
I lifted my hips in protest. “South Africa.” Maybe if I replied quickly, he would resume what he was doing. “In your hotel room. On your bed.”
“Good girl.” He squeezed my thigh with his free hand and ran his nose along it. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to keep doing what you were doing,” I said with urgency, “and I want your mouth on me.”
He smiled triumphantly. “Now beg.”
September 24, 2010
The tension betweenAaron and me was palpable. I had had a chance to talk to David, and he seemed much more relaxed about the situation. He knew my dad would go ballistic on them once we returned, and on all of us, but he understood my reasons for wanting to do this.
Aaron, on the other hand, didn’t want to talk to me. Not about this. He was upset.Veryupset. He was a perfectionist when it came to his job, and I know I made my security team look bad by escaping them. I should’ve known better. But I was safe and wasn’t putting my life at risk. I knew that much, thanks to Caleb’s letter. But Aaron didn’t. He wasn’t aware that I’d read it, and I’m sure he was clueless about the content of it, too. Not that he wasn’t in on all the secrets. He must’ve been the one to brief Caleb when he first arrived in Paris five years ago.
