Everyone sat back in disbelief when three cocktail waitresses appeared carrying bottles of champagne, a tray of shooters and large trays of assorted appetizers, along with bottles of water. They set everything on the table with a flourish before disappearing with our dirty glasses.
Selena looked happy but scared. “This looks so fancy. And expensive.”
“I take care of Mila. Therefore, I take care of her friends,” Axel said smoothly. “Should we make a toast?”
Tanya sat in shock for a moment, and then she leaned toward me and whispered, “Girl, you’re crazy if you don’t lock him down.”
“That’s funny,” I said, totally inebriated.
Axel expertly opened one of the bottles of champagne. Selena leaned across the table and mouthed at me, “Marry him.”
Tanya and I dissolved into a fit of giggles.
Two hours later,I staggered into our house, giggling again when I nearly wiped out on the tiles in the front foyer.
“Careful,” Axel said as he held me up by one arm.
I spun in his arms. “Unzip me.”
“Mila,” he warned.
I stomped my heel on the tile. “I can’t get out of this dress myself, so you have to unzip me.”
I felt his fingertips at the back of my dress and then the coolness of the air as he brought down the long zipper of my dress. I let it slide down my body and pool at my feet.
I stepped over it and then stood there in front of him, wearing only my matching lingerie.
His jaw was tight, and he looked strained. “Time for bed.”
I stared at him. “Excellent idea.”
“Separate beds.”
I looked down at my mostly naked body and then ran my hands over my breasts. Under the lacy fabric, my nipples were as hard as pebbles. “Your fuck doll is ready.”
He stepped in close, lifted my chin, and made me look up at him. “My fuck doll is drunk.”
“So?” I stepped closer, pressing my body against his. The feeling of him being fully clothed against my near nakedness made me feel deliciously wanton.
“You’re too drunk to know what saying yes means.”
“Just touch me,” I whispered, trying to tempt him further.
I groaned with satisfaction when his hand moved beneath my soaked thong and he buried two fingers deep into me. His voice was so low it was almost unrecognizable. “Is this what you want?”
“I want us to have sex. Lots and lots of sex,” I moaned as he scissored his fingers within me, bringing me to my tippy toes.
His words were hot against my mouth as he pulled his fingers back out. “We’ll talk about it when you’re sober.”
His kiss was a mixture of heat, skill and tenderness. I moaned into his mouth, loving the taste of his lips on mine.
I tried to steer his hand back between my legs, but he resisted.
“Touch me,” I cried out in frustration.
“Not until we talk.”
“When?” I asked, lifting his big hand to my breast.
