I look back at him, watching me. The silk sheets pool low on his hip bone, showing the top of the defined ‘V’ of muscles and the scattering of ‘happy trail’ hair leading down.
“I need to go,” I say, talking to his abs.
“You do.”
“I really do.” My gaze inches up, dipping into every ridge and valley of his defined torso until I meet his amused gaze.
“I love you. Now go, before I pull you back in here with me.”
I bite my lower lip with a groan as I spin on my heels, heading into our dressing room.
“I’ll come by Seasons on my way back and bring breakfast,” I call, pulling on my workout gear.
“I’ll look forward to it,” he calls back in a deep velvety voice.
I grab my bag, giving him a last lingering eye-fuck and little wave as I head out of the bedroom. Then I stop and spin straight back around, poking my head around the door.
His eyes connect with mine instantly, and a smirk tugs at his lips. The sheet has moved lower, and his gorgeous dick is there in its full glory.
“You forget something?”
“Just to tell you that I love you.” My eyes linger on his dick before moving back up to his glittering gaze.
“Go, Hallie,” he growls softly. “Before I get out of this bed and drag you back into it and underneath me.”
I flash him one final smile. “I’m going to picture you like this for the rest of the day.”
His expression turns tender and his eyes drift over my face like he’s committing it to memory. I shiver from the intensity of it.
“And I’m going to picture you smiling like that and telling me you love me for the rest of my life. Now go.”
My stomach bursts into flutters and my cheeks heat as I give him one last parting look.
“The rest of our lives…together, Fiancé,” I call, tearing myself away.
There’s a bounce in my step as I exit Central Park and pass the iconic Songbird hotel.
I smile at the beautiful building. Maybe I should add it to the list of places to consider for the wedding. So far I’ve been unable to decide whether we should get married in London or New York. Sterling says whatever makes me happy will make him happy. But he’s lived in New York his whole life and his family are here. And I’m going to be living here now. It makes sense it should be in New York. I only have Mum, Dad, and Sophie, who I really want there. I don’t need some huge elaborate affair filled with people I hardly know.
Hesitation slices through me.
That would be exactly like Sterling said his wedding to Elaina was—arranged by their parents as more of a business deal than anything else. He didn’t know eighty percent of the guests. They were all colleagues or associates of their parents’.
And they were married here in the city.
Maybe we shouldn’t get married in New York, or London. I could look for somewhere overseas. Somewhere we can have something small and intimate. Meaningful.
I pull my phone from my purse to check the time, 7:30 a.m. Sterling will be on his way to his office soon, if he’s not there already.
I snap a selfie, blowing a kiss at the camera and send it to him.
Me: I’m on my way to give my fiancé breakfast, served with a kiss. I love you.
His reply comes instantly, and I smile. He always replies straight away.
Sterling: Serve yourself to me on my desk, Baby girl, and I’ll die a happy man.
I giggle and drop my phone back into my purse, heading into a deli to grab something. I’m thinking banana nut muffins, hot coffee, and a side of melon. He loves nuts and I know he’s only just getting back into eating them again. Elaina had an allergy.
