Sloane flinches at the sharpness of my words, but she recovers quickly. “Until the renovation at La Grande Nuit is done. That should be long enough to get a handle on my skin hunger. Plus, when the project is done, we won’t have a reason to be around each other as much.”
Right. I guess it doesn’t matter that you’ve fucking owned me for twelve years, and I don’t know how I’m going to survive you.
My jaw tenses as I do the mental calculation. My team has been ahead of schedule so far, which means barring any major changes from James, we have eight weeks left in this project.Eight weeks.I want to throw something.
“There are eight weeks left in the project. Is that all you want?” I set my fork down and study her. “Two months hardly seems like enough time for you to get comfortable with what’s happening here.”
Her nostrils flare, and I can see the irritation slipping over her features. She thinks I’m being patronizing, handling her with kid gloves, but I’m the only person at this table who knows how fucking broken she looked when she left me in that bathroom on Tuesday. So far, we haven’t had another one of those situations, and I want to trust that she’s ready for more, but Sloane has no idea what it’s going to mean for me and her when I finally claim her the way I should have all those years ago.
It’s going to mean forever. It’s going to mean no turning back. It’s going to mean more than eight weeks in her fucking bed like a man on borrowed time.
“You don’t think I’m comfortable?” Sloane hisses. “I let you finger me in an elevator on the way up here, and you don’t think I’m comfortable with what we’re doing here?!”
My dick twitches, her words making me flash back to the heady rush of having my way with her. When I rubbed her ass and found out she obeyed my command to leave her panties at home, it made me hard in an instant. It took every bit of restraint I had not to pin her against the wall and fuck her until she saw stars.
“We both know sex is different, angel.” I reach over the table and grab her hand. She’s still mad, but she doesn’t snatch away. “Last night you said this was new for you, which I took to mean you haven’t—” I search her eyes, hoping that bringing up Eric isn’t about to blow this all to hell. “I assumed it meant you haven’t been with anyone since Eric. Was I right?”
Please, God, say I am.I don’t want to have to waste a second of our time together hunting down every man she’s been with and making him forget what it was like to have her.
“Yes,” she answers softly, some of the stiffness leaving her shoulders.
I rub small circles on her skin with my thumb, and she lets out a sigh. “And we both remember what happened on Tuesday, so please stop trying to rush this. I know a lot of ways to bring you pleasure that don’t include pushing you to the end of your limits and fucking this all up.”
“Fine.” She releases my hand and crosses her arms. “If you want to spend the next few weeks doing everything but the one thing we both want to do, that’s what we’ll do. But if I break my vibrator or die from sexual frustration because you refuse to give me some dick, that’s on you.”
I try to hold the laugh in, I swear I do, but something about the petulant little scowl marring her beautiful features and the seriousness of her tone when she mentions her vibrator rips a loud laugh from my throat.
Sloane rolls her eyes at me and tries to hide the smile threatening to curve her lips by taking a bite of the salad she’s been playing over since this conversation started. By the time I’m done laughing, she’s moved on to her sliders and her eyes are rolling into the back of her head as she chews. I don’t even try to hide that I’m watching her enjoy her meal.
“I want to spend a whole day feeding you, just to have the pleasure of watching you eat.”
She takes a sip of her wine and raises a brow. “Is that your first rule, Mr. Alexander?”
There’s a sultry curve to her lips as they wrap around the question, and it makes my dick throb. I’ve been hard since Sloane mentioned our little scene in the elevator, and the situation has gotten even more dire. I try to be subtle about adjusting myself in my pants.
“No, but I might be inclined to add it to my list of things I hope to get the chance to do over the next eight weeks.”
Hopefulness smooths the creases in her forehead. “So you’re not fighting me on the end date anymore?”
“No.”Yes, just not in the way you think.“You make some good points, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of this.”Of me claiming your body and soul. Of me etching myself into your lungs until you can’t fucking breathe without me.
I take a bite of my steak and soak up the sunshine of her smile. There’s no need for Sloane to know I plan on spending the next eight weeks making her need me as much as I need her. I’ve lived a lifetime without her in my arms, hating myself for wanting her, and now that I have her, letting her go is not an option.
“Thank you, Dominic.”
“You don’t have to thank me, angel. Do you have more cards to lay on the table?”
“No, I’m good. All of my cards are out there.”
Great, so the only thing you need is a definitive ending to the best thing that’s ever happened to me.Keeping the bitter thought from showing on my face is hard as hell, but I manage to do it. It’s the only way to keep this conversation on track, and damn do I want to get this shit over with so I can take her home and bury my face between her legs.
“Perfect. Then are you ready to hear my rules?”
“Yes.”
She’s breathless like she was in the club last night when I ran my hands over her curves in that stunning red dress. But instead of leaning into my body, soft and pliable like putty in my hands, her back is ramrod straight, her shoulders squared and her eyes thoughtful as they meet mine. Now, she’s all business.
I tap my fingers on the table slowly, just to see if her businesslike facade will break. My angel has a thing for hands. Specifically,myhands, which gives me more pleasure than it should. Sloane’s gaze flicks to the table for less than a second, her tongue a flash of pink as it darts out to lick her lips. I give her a wolfish smile, and the sick satisfaction that stems directly from owning a part of her she hasn’t given to someone else sends sparks of liquid fire down my spine.
