“Now!”
“Yes, now,” he said as he surged forward and drove his full length inside her glorious body.
“Oh, Ian, what you do to me,” she cried as her h*ps lifted off the bed and her nails scraped down his back.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned, thrusting deep inside, over and over, pressure building in his loins.
“You make my head....spin,” she said, almost unthinkingly, as her orgasm drew near. He felt her silken folds tighten on him, felt her body stiffen as she readied to fall over the edge.
“Now, Rachel. Come right now,” he demanded as he loved her hard and fast, his h*ps in sweet collision against her smooth, soft skin.
She exploded around him, screaming in her passion; her eyes closed and her head fell back, her body stiff as she shook beneath him.
“Yes, baby,” he groaned as he followed her into the abyss of pleasure. He also shook, trembling with the strength of his release.
When the final tremors faded, Adriane barely had the strength to free her of his weight. Quickly pulling off the latex protection, he tossed it aside before taking her into his arms, and sighing with pleasure as her head lay cradled against his neck.
He stroked her hair as his brain whirled in circles and his heart felt…lost? This was their last night.
“It’s OK, Ian.”
“What is?” he asked. Could she read his mind?
“Tonight is our last night. I’ve seen the turmoil in you all day. We both knew this was for a week. You really need to quit worrying that I am planning on taking it further than that,” she said with a laugh as she rubbed her fingers against his chest.
Exhaustion filled him, but unbelievably, he felt himself growing hard again. But he forced himself to repress those baser urges; he needed to speak to her.
“What if I don’t want tonight to be our last night?” Adriane was a little surprised by his words, but not enough to take them back.
“We aren’t going there,” she said.
“Why not?” He was thoroughly insulted that she wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to see more of him. He couldn’t remember that ever happening before.
“Because we know nothing about each other — and before you interrupt, I like it that way. I do know that we are both heading in different directions, moving forward with our lives, and I won’t change my plans over a weeklong affair that would burn out within a month if we decided to lengthen it. Just hold me tonight, and let me remember this week always,” she said, almost pleadingly.
Adriane didn’t like her idea of a compromise, but he said nothing as he listened to her breathing. Soon, she was asleep within the safety of his arms.
Extracting himself from her sweet grip, he rose and did something he’d never done before. Finding her purse, he called his assistant and had him copy her information.
It was just in case, he told himself, not looking at any of it. It was a matter of honor. He himself would invade her privacy only if absolutely compelled.
The next morning they returned to the hotel, and when he came out of the shower, he found Rachel gone. Confusion filled him when he looked around and didn’t find anything of hers. It was almost as if she’d never been there, as if this was all nothing more than a dream.
A very, very good dream — but only a dream, nonetheless.
When the shock wore off, fury overtook him. How could she have just walked away so easily?
The two of them had been careful, but he always kept an eye on the women he was with sexually. If something were to happen, he wanted to be the first to know about it.
Making himself calm down, he paged his assistant to the room. Amedeo was there within a minute.
“Amedeo, make sure two men are aware of Rachel’s whereabouts for the next three months,” he demanded.
His assistant didn’t blink and didn’t ask questions; he just followed orders.
After Adriane had given more orders for packing the things in his hotel room, he mentally prepared himself for what was to come. He tried to push Rachel and his impromptu visit to Florida to the back of his mind, but for once, it wasn’t easy. He took a final look around the room that he had spent so much time in for the last week, and then just shook his head before he firmly closed the door behind him.
Adriane made his way to his jet, focused on what was ahead of him. It was time to return home and fulfill his duty.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ari
Ari was feeling quite smug as she left the restaurant.
Yes, she would be aching all night, but at least she’d been strong. At least she’d been able to get the upper hand and walk away from Rafe’s invasion of her space with her head held high and a smile on her lips.
If the dismally dull doctor had stirred her in any way at all, she might have called him up to see whether his emergency was finished. Of course, in reality, he most likely hadn’t had an emergency. He’d probably arrived at the hospital only to find it had been a false alarm. Yep, Rafe and that page…
She was vaguely curious to find out whether Dr. Foot in Mouth would call her. She knew she wouldn’t take the call, as she wasn’t so desperate for attention that she would endure that man for even another thirty seconds, but it had been the first date she’d been on in months.
It didn’t please her that she had found much more pleasure sitting with Rafe for an hour than she’d found with any of the men she’d attempted to date. None of them stirred her; none of them piqued her interest. She was afraid that she was ruined for any other man after having Rafe in her life.
As she approached the curb to hail a cab, she felt a hand on her arm. Alarm zipped through her until she realized that it was Rafe, then excitement rose unwanted in her stomach. She should have known that getting away from Rafe wouldn’t be that easy. Turning to give him a snarky comment to cover up the pleasure she felt, she never got the chance — she was suddenly being pulled forward. A squeak escaped her tight throat as she was thrust into the backseat of a limo.
Getting her voice back quickly, she turned to him in a rage. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” she demanded as the vehicle pulled away from the curb and she punched Rafe in the arm.
“You know that I always escort my date home,” he replied, not even flinching from her hit.
“This wasn’t a date — at least not with you, Rafe!” she said between her teeth as she glared at him. She retracted her hand; she had hurt it far more than she had him by her punch.
“I had a good time, bought you dinner, and watched the sexy sway of your beautiful derrière as you walked from the table. It was a date,” he said with a satisfied smile.