“Your secret’s safe with me,” I promised, my thumb brushing over his lips. A shiver ran through me as his hands continued their exploration, mapping my skin with careful attention. “Though I can’t guarantee I won’t use it against you the next time you try to boss me around.”
His eyes darkened, a wicked glint appearing in their depths as his fingers pressed into my hips, drawing me impossibly closer. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Donovan?”
“More like a promise,” I retorted, my pulse quickening at the heat in his gaze and the possessive way his hands gripped my waist.
His lips crashed against mine, hungry and demanding, while his hands slid down to grip my thighs. His tongue plunged in with an urgency that stole my breath away, and I shuddered and melted into the kiss, my body responding to his touch like a flame to oxygen.
His mouth on mine felt like coming home after an eternity lost at sea. It was like being devoured and reborn in the same breath. My arms wound around his neck instinctively as I kissed him back with equal fervor, fingers threading through his hair. His responding growl vibrated through my chest as his hands roamed freely now, each touch setting my nerve endings alight. Our mouths moved together in a passionate dance that spoke volumes of missed connections and newfound desires.
Finally pulling back for air, Matt’s eyes held that same fierce intensity as his tattoo’s dragon. His hands hadn’t stopped their exploration, one thumb tracing the sensitive spot just above my hip that made me shiver. “I missed this,” he confessed with an edge of raw need, punctuating his words with a gentle bite to my neck that made my knees weak.
I couldn’t help but smirk at him, even as his fingers danced along my spine, making it hard to string together coherent thoughts. “Well, we could always explorethisfurther after dinner.”
His eyes darkened with desire but he held back, though his hands continued their torturous caress along my sides. “We can,” he agreed slowly, “but no further than this.” His thumb traced my lower lip gently, his other hand settling possessively on my hip. “You’re still recovering and patience is a virtue I’m willing to practice if it means you don’t suffer or prolong your injuries.”
I raised an eyebrow in challenge, trying to ignore how his touch was turning my bones to liquid. “I’m strong,” I boasted with mock arrogance. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“Oh, I know exactly how well you can handle me,” he purred, his hands sliding down to squeeze my hips suggestively. “That’s precisely why I need to be careful now. Your body needs time to heal properly, and we both know my self-control tends to… slip when you’re involved.”
A blush crept onto my cheeks at his words—memories of just how thoroughly he could lose that control flooding my mind—and his knowing smile told me he recognized the victory in making Andy Donovan blush. I held his gaze with feigned indignation etched across my features, but the anticipation of what the night might bring hung in the air between us, a tantalizing promise that left me aching for more.
“You’re playing with fire, Mr. Caine,” I warned, my voice husky with desire.
“Maybe I like the heat,” he countered, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of my shirt to skim along the sensitive skin of my lower back.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my body arching into his touch like a cat seeking affection. “Keep that up and we might not make it to dinner,” I managed, my words coming out in a breathy whisper.
“Tempting,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “But I think I’d rather savor the anticipation. Draw out the pleasure until you’re begging for it.”
A whimper escaped me, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as if he were the only thing keeping me upright. “You’re a cruel man, Matt Caine.”
“You have no idea,” he chuckled, the sound dark and full of promise.
With a final nip to my earlobe, he pulled back, his hands settling on my hips in a possessive grip. “We should head down,” he said, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.
I nodded, trying to regain some semblance of composure. It was a herculean effort, given the way my body was still thrumming with need, but I managed a shaky smile. “Lead the way, oh mighty one.”
He laughed, the sound warm and affectionate, and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. “You’re going to be the death of me, Andy Donovan.”
“But what a way to go,” I quipped, taking his hand and letting him guide me out of the penthouse.
Twenty-Nine
ANDY
Matt led me to a floor I hadn’t explored before in the Maxwell Hotel—a culinary paradise that hummed with the discreet buzz of opulence. Each restaurant we passed was more sumptuous than the last, and the mingling aromas were enough to make my stomach perform eager somersaults.
The private dining room where we ended up was a master art in luxury. The walls were adorned with dark, rich wood paneling that glowed under the soft, ambient lighting, and the plush carpet felt like walking on clouds. A massive window spanned the length of the room, offering an unobstructed panorama of Vegas in all its neon glory—a shimmering sea of lights that seemed to stretch into infinity.
In the center stood a table that was both elegant and imposing, draped in crisp white linen and set with fine china and silverware. Crystal glasses caught the light like diamonds. The chairs, upholstered in deep-burgundy fabric held an invitation to sink into their comfort. Fresh roses served as the centerpiece, their heady fragrance subtly scenting the air.
James and Mia were already there, along with William and his girlfriend Savannah, looking like they’d stepped off the pagesof those glossy magazines that never featured anyone with less than a nine-figure bank account. James cut a dashing figure in his tailored suit, while William’s pale-blond hair caught the light like white gold against his dark blazer. The ladies were equally stunning—Mia resplendent in a glittery dress that hugged her curves and set off her dark hair, while Savannah’s light-brown locks cascaded over her shoulders, complementing her elegant cream-colored dress. It was another reminder of how different our lives had become. Gone were the worn-out clothes, replaced by luxury brands that our billionaires seemed to shower us with.
Mia and Savannah were deep in conversation by the window, their heads bent together as they shared what looked like an amusing secret, their laughter mixing with the soft background music. They broke apart when they spotted me, and Mia rushed over, wrapping me in her arms.
“Andy! Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not pushing yourself too hard? We can always leave early if you’re tired. Did you take your medication?” Her concern poured out in a flurry of questions.
I patted her back, chuckling softly. “Mia, I’m fine. Honestly. The only thing I’m suffering from right now is an overdose of luxury.”
