“Thank you for that evaluation, Dr. Phil, but I’m a big enough girl to know that the only opinion of you that matters is your own.” I shake his hands off my arms and cross to the kitchenette area.
Why the f**k is there a mini kitchen on a boat? I yank open the cupboards until I find a glass and pour myself a glass of water, draining it in one go.
“If my opinion of you doesn’t mean anything to you, tell me why you just stormed away from me.”
He’s right behind me. My skin is buzzing despite the fact that he’s not touching me. I’m completely alive at the mere feeling of his breath brushing across my shoulder.
“I’m a proud person. I don’t like to be put down.”
“You’re a stubborn person, sweetheart.” He runs his hands down my arms to my hands, where he slowly links his fingers through mine. “Don’t be proud with me. It doesn’t wash, and neither does your not-caring bullshit. You don’t get to be as in love as we once were and not care about what the other person thinks.”
“Seven years, Aaron. Things you care about change a lot in that time.”
“I still care about you. That never changed. It never will.”
“You care about the person you knew.”
“No, I care about the beautiful, stubborn, challenging, difficult woman standing in front of me.”
“I think I should be flattered by that, but you lost me at ‘stubborn, challenging, and difficult.’”
He chuckles lowly and steps into me. My back curves into his body in response to his touch, a response I neither want nor like. Automatic reactions are dangerous territory.
He runs his nose along my neck, his breath tracing below its path, making me shiver. “I’m calling it in, sweetheart. I know I said I wouldn’t, but I am.”
“So much for not paying for it.”
“I’m not. I pay for you to accompany me to dinners and functions and all the fancy shit. I’m not paying for your body because you’ll give it to me freely.”
“You sound real sure of yourself, Mr. Stone.”
“I can’t stand seeing you and not being able to have you the way I want.”
He creeps his finger to the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head then removes his own shirt. His bare skin burns against mine, and his hands flatten on his stomach, holding me flush against him. My breathing picks up slightly when his fingertips graze my bikini line.
“Like this. Do you know how hard it is to lie in bed next to you night after night, both of us in our underwear, and not pull you to me? Do you have any f**king idea how hard it is for me to not flip you onto your back and explore your body with my fingers or devour it with my mouth? It kills me, Dayton. I want you so badly my head is clouded with thoughts of you every second of the day, and just the mention of your name makes me hard.”
It’s not all that makes him hard. I can feel his erection pressing into my lower back through his shorts, tantalizingly hard. Almost as if it’s teasing me because it knows I’ve seen the beauty of it. I’ve seen it, felt it, tasted it. And I want more.
“Tomorrow night, after the dinner, I’m going to take you back to our suite and I’m going to f**k you the way I’ve dreamed of since I saw you again two and a half weeks ago. And you’re going to let me. You’re not going to treat me like your client and fake your way through it. You’re going to treat me and respond to me like the man you want beside you and inside you.”
“What if I fight you?”
“You won’t.” He nips my neck then flicks his tongue over the tiny sting there. “Because you know you won’t win. I’ve waited too long, Dayton.”
“It hasn’t even been three weeks. I’ve waited longer for a shoe delivery.”
He slips his fingers inside my bikini and runs two along my pu**y, which has been brought to life by our skin-on-skin contact and his forceful words. I close my eyes at the sweet feeling that hits me when he grazes my clit.
“Seems like I’m not the only impatient one.”
I sigh when he removes his hand and watch with widening eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, licking off every bit of me.
“And she still tastes like heaven,” he murmurs, spinning me so he can kiss me.
“Heaven doesn’t have a taste,” I argue against his lips.
“It sure does. And it’s you.” His hands slide into my hair. “You taste like a heaven full of sins, something that’s bad but at the same time far too good to give up.”
“What kind of sins?” I tease, running my hands down his sides.
“Temptation and greed. Two things that will be my downfall. You’re far too tempting and I’m far too greedy to ever stop being tempted.”
“Did it take you long to think that up?”
He smacks my ass, and I squeak. “Don’t start with me, woman. Now behave yourself and go upstairs before Joseph thinks we’re having a morning f**k.”
“Is that a bad thing? You said he was spying on us.” I grab my dress and saunter out of the cabin, but not before his palm connects with my other butt cheek. “Ouch!”
“I told you to behave.”
“Hmph.”
He follows me back to the loungers, where two drinks are waiting for us. I pick up my cocktail glass and point to it.
“It’s called a Blow Job.” He smirks.
“Oh. I like these.” I smirk back at him and take a sip.
He eyes me as I set it on the mini table next to me. “I’m aware.”
My smirk changes to a grin and I lie back on the lounger, pulling my oversized glasses over my eyes. “Aaron?”
“Dayton?”
“I’m still really mad at you.”
His throaty chuckle wraps around me. “I know.”
Chapter Eleven
Crocodile tastes like chicken.
At least to me. Aaron insists that it has its own unique taste, but it definitely doesn’t. Why we couldn’t eat something normal for dinner—like octopus or squid or something—I don’t know.
Not to say I don’t like crocodile. I do. I’m just not in a hurry to eat it again.
Aaron leans back in his seat and brings his martini glass to his lips. His eyes rove over my face and settle on my lips as I lick my spoon clean. I run my tongue over the cold metal slowly, and I purposely keep my eyes focused over his shoulder.
The longer he stares at me, the harder it is to keep my eyes from his. His gaze is strong and compelling. It spreads warmth and tingles over my body, especially when I know that his eyes are darkening the way they are now. It’s how I know. When his lids get heavy and the electric blue of his eyes changes to a hue close to indigo, the intensity that hits me increases. When he looks at me the way he is now, his gaze penetrates my very core.