He leads me out of the lounge, across the balcony, and stops at a door that I hadn’t noticed before. I frown when he opens it out toward us and gestures with his hand, directing me to go first.
I climb the stairwell, not knowing where I’m going to end up, but trusting him all the same. I didn’t even know we could get any higher than the penthouses, and as I push open the door at the top of the staircase, I realize why. We’re now on the rooftop.
A secluded rooftop, lit with twinkling fairy lights around the perimeter.
It’s so pretty up here, and as I walk slowly across the open space, I take in the amazing three hundred and sixty degree view. It’s breathtaking.
“I wanted to take you for a picnic.” Denham’s warm breath tickles the back of my neck as he comes up behind me and encircles my waist with his arms. “But you know…circumstances and all that.” I feel him shrug and then rest his head against mine.
“This is perfect. Just perfect,” I whisper. I can’t think of a better way to spend the evening.
Denham takes my hand, and seats us right in the middle of the roof, where there is a scattering of giant plush pillows and bean bags. Soft music by Gorgon City floats around us, being blown into the Las Vegas night’s sky by the gentle breeze. In the center of the seating is a low table, it has tealight candles placed in the middle, and delicious picnic food laid out.
“Oh my god. You have melted chocolate and fresh fruit!” I exclaim, my stomach rumbling as if to prove how hungry I am.
Denham pours me a glass of Prosecco and sits next to me. He passes me the glass but doesn’t let go. I tug gently but he justlooks at me and smiles, raising his eyebrow slightly. He tugs back at my arm and keeps pulling until the glass is the only thing left between us, and our lips are just a breath away. His eyes roam over my face, lingering on my lips, and I feel them part in response to his exploration. He moves in just a fraction closer until his nose is touching mine, and his breaths prickle my senses. He grins before letting his tongue slowly trail my lower lip. I can’t help the whimper that leaves my mouth.
I’m consumed.
Consumed by him.
Consumed by us.
And, for the first time in my life there is a greater goal than just staying alive. There’s more to life than just living and breathing. He’s made me feel. From top to bottom. Inside out. I feel every look he gives me, and it’s just as powerful as each touch he graces my body with.
I realize that he’s pulled away, and I open my eyes to find him looking at me with a sexy as hell smirk. He holds up the glass, and I take it with the hope that he’s going to do the same things as before but he doesn’t. He places the glass in my hand and reaches for a bowl of olives, offering them in my direction, before popping one in his mouth.
“You’re joking, right?” I say, screwing my face up.
He laughs. “What? You don’t like olives?” He feigns shock, acting like it’s a criminal offence.
“They are the food of the Devil,” I state.
“Just like mushrooms?” he questions.
“Yes. Mushrooms and olives definitely come from the Devil.”
“So you’ll happily drink a Dirty Martini, but you won’t eat an olive…”
“Correct. A Dirty Martini has alcohol in it.”
“You’re crazy.” He laughs, “You do know that you have to eat at least ten olives before you like them?”
“Ten! Why would you eat ten mouthfuls of something you don’t like?”
He chuckles. “Does that mean you won’t kiss me if I’ve eaten olives?” He places the bowl back on the table, and I shake my head gently.
“No, I’ll still kiss you.” I can’t think of anything that would make me not want to kiss him.
“Good. I guess there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, huh?” he muses.
“Yeah, I guess…What do you want to know?”
He reaches forward and dips a strawberry into the melted chocolate, half coating it, and twirling to avoid leaving a trail of chocolate across the table. He cups a hand under my chin and prompts me to open my mouth.
I bite down on the plump strawberry, and the juice runs down my chin. My taste buds go into overdrive. The strawberry is perfectly sweet. The chocolate, a wonderful compliment, and I forget what we were talking about.
“Oh my god, that is heaven,” I moan around the mouthful of deliciousness. “I’m sorry,” I giggle. “Carry on. What did you want to know?” I say, before grabbing a napkin and wiping my mouth.
