Her eyes widen at the sensation, and I hold her gaze, squeezing her hips, circling the swollen head of my cock inside her as the final drops pass from me to her.
“Did I tell you how much I love you?”
“I think you showed me.” She smiles.
Sweat beads on my chest as I take in a deep drag of much-needed air.
Yeah, I think I damn well did.
My fingers trail up and down the silky skin on Hallie’s naked back as she lies on her front next to me, her icy blonde hair splayed out over the pillow. Her cute little snores make me smile as I watch her sleep.
She looks like an angel. Some days I think she is one, sent to rescue me from living my whole life without experiencing the kind of love that makes you crazy. Because I’m damn crazy about her. And I wouldn’t change a thing.
I lean over and press a kiss to her shoulder. She’s exhausted. I kept her going until she could barely keep her eyes open. I lost count of how many times we fucked before everything slowed down and we made love gently, staring into each other’s eyes as I held her beneath me. No matter how much of her I get, it’s never enough. I always want more.
My cell vibrates on the nightstand, and I reach for it, answering Denver’s call as my gaze returns to Hallie.
“Denver?”
I keep my voice low, so I don’t disturb her. I called him when Hallie fell asleep and told him Rory didn’t get on his flight. He’s been trailing him since, keeping an eye on his movements.
“Boss,” he greets. “I’ve followed him to your apartment building. He hasn’t tried to get inside, but he’s pacing up and down the sidewalk.”
I slip out of bed and walk to the windows even though it’s too high up to make much out at street level below.
“Keep an eye on him. I’ll come down.”
“There’s more.” Denver’s tone is grim. “It’s about Vegas.”
“Go on.”
I grit my teeth knowing that whatever he’s about to tell me isn’t going to be good. Rory ought to run while he can.
“I heard your club in LA got burned down. Shame.” Rory smirks, eyeing me as I walk up to him on the sidewalk.
He looks disheveled. His light brown hair is messy, sticking up in places, like he’s been raking his hands through it. And his eyes are dull and tired, the whites holding a yellow sheen. He could have been back in England with all of his debts paid off. Yet here he is, looking for a fight that he doesn’t have a chance in hell of winning.
“It’s just a building.” I shrug. “I’ll remodel it and make it better.”
“Yeah, an old rich guy like you can afford to see it like that.” He snorts.
“You’re right. I am rich.”
Rory eyes me with disgust, his top lip curling.
“I’m the richest man in the world. You know why? Because I’ve got the love of that incredible woman who’s upstairs sleeping in my bed right now.”
“You keep your hands off her!”
He dives at me, but his punch is poorly executed, and his eyes widen as I catch his fist in my palm.
And squeeze.
“Argh!” He yanks it back, his face contorting in pain.
I stand calmly, waiting for him to?—
“You dirty old bastard!” He comes at me again, but I move at the last moment, leaving him stumbling around.
