“After dinner,” I said, trailing kisses down his neck, “will you show me how much you missed me?”
His hands squeezed my ass, his erection growing beneath me. “Gladly.”
I climbed off him and went to the desk. Out of the bag, I withdrew a bottle of water, a brown paper box with rice and grilled vegetables, and a fire-grilled beef tenderloin.
Andrew took a seat on a chair. “Thank you.”
“I need to make sure you have a lot of energy.” I kicked off my shoes, nestled on the bed, and crossed my legs at the ankles. My heart racing, I waited a few seconds before I said, “Andrew, I need you to stop sending me money. Starting today.”
He glanced at me with a question in his eyes. “But we agreed on?—”
I raised my hand to stop him. “I know, but I have enough now, and I’m grateful for what you already sent. From now on, I just want to be a part of this search. No more payments.”
“Are you sure?” His eyebrows grew together.
I nodded. “Now tell me, any progress on the location of the palace?”
He watched me for a moment longer, a smile growing. “I have several likely locations.” He cut into the steak. “But I need to narrow it down to maybe two.”
“Can’t you cross-reference it with the records of the properties Augustine owned?”
Andrew shook his head, mouth full of food. I studied the bracelet, my fingers rotating it. Augustine cared about his wife. He poured his love into his letters, brought her things from every place he visited. He wanted to build her the palace of her dreams, and he died heartbroken after her death.
“You stated that after Maria had her first son, she developed severe motion sickness,” I said, and Andrew nodded, chewing. “I was thinking, if she couldn’t ride even a short distance before she had to throw up, as a loving husband, Augustine wouldn’t build a palace somewhere too far away from where they lived. He wouldn’t make her walk across the country, and he wouldn’t put her through the torturing misery of a long ride.”
Andrew’s eyebrows pulled together as he took a sip of water. After he swallowed, he said, “Go on.”
“You mentioned those who worked on the second villa were brought in carriages blindfolded to the location and were not allowed to leave. When construction stopped, they were taken back again blindfolded. Your notes suggested that rumor had it that Augustine started a palace in Brazil with a large cellar and an elaborate security system. What if drivers rode for days in circles over the mountains and through jungles making men believe they were in another country? Jungle here and jungle there most likely looked the same.” Andrew stopped eating, and I knew I had his undivided attention. “I think if we were to look for possible places, our center point should be where they lived, and from there we should draw a short radius, and increase little by little as we exhaust our options. We’ll avoid any overpopulated or popular hiking areas because obviously by now the unfinished large building would have been discovered. Can’t the Octavian Global group contact NASA or somebody and request mega-clear satellite photos of Colombia? I understand that after three hundred years the jungle might have swallowed it whole, but we could analyze images, search for the outline of a structure.”
“They’re not the United Kingdom’s foreign intelligence agency.” Andrew chuckled, scooping rice with the fork, but then he paused and looked at me. “Your brilliance is limitless.” The corners of his mouth turned upward, and then he was full-on smiling. “I love working with you.”
Undeniable happiness twined in my heart. The feeling was so real that I could reach in and touch it. As I watched Andrew eat, the most delicious images materialized in my mind: me parking in a secluded spot in the Atlanta airport on the day I picked up Andrew; me wearing a dress no matter the weather; us loading into my car, and me climbing on his lap and hungrily welcoming him inside me; us having late dinners that we made together in my home; us making love in the shower, on the couch, on the kitchen countertop; me falling asleep on his chest, in my bedroom with window curtains wide open and a bright moon in the velvet skies. Something dominant—and alarming—swelled in my chest. And I couldn’t ignore it anymore. My entire body vibrated with the desire I felt for those images to become reality.
Collecting the empty container, Andrew got up, dropped it into the paper bag, walked to the door, and set it on the floor. When he turned, his hand went over his shoulders, and he pulled his shirt over his head. I had seen him naked already, but my breath caught anew. He was devastating. My eyes roamed down his broad chest, a well-defined six-pack, and a distinct V disappearing into his pants. I had a strong feeling we were done talking about his work, and a filthy smile pulled at my lips.
“Come here,” Andrew said, his voice husky and deep, his eyes dark, holding mine and warming my blood.
No need to ask me twice.
I sauntered to him, wetness pooling and excitement already moving over me. Looking up at Andrew, I ran my hands up his torso, his abs flexing under my touch, over his chest, over the wide planes of his shoulders, coming to his neck and finally looping them around it. He framed my face with his large hands and dipped his head to mine.
Andrew kissed me deep and hard, just like he would fuck me soon. His mouth tasted of the salt and sweetness of his meal. My body ached, wanting him to repeat the things he had done last night. He was like heroin, and I was addicted to him.
His hand slid down my back, down to my ass. He cupped it, pressing his dick into my stomach. Then his hands traveled lower, and he bunched up my skirt, exposing my bare bottom. A surprise groan rumbled deep in his throat, and he squeezed harder.
Andrew walked me backward to the desk. Pressing his large palms on each side of my waist, he lifted me and set my ass on it.
“This dress is beautiful on you,” he said, his lips against my mouth, “but it will look better on the floor.” His fingers pulled on the bow at the back of my neck, undoing the knot and letting the halter-top drop. Andrew trailed kisses on my jaw, down to my collarbone, his hand gently massaging my breasts, simultaneously squeezing my nipples between his thumb and index finger. He caught one with his mouth and sucked it, before biting. I moaned, sifting my fingers through his hair.
Switching his attention to the other nipple, his hands gripped my ass, and he brought me closer to the edge of the table, my wet center soaking the fabric of his pants where his rock-hard cock pressed. My finger fumbled with the zipper.
“Not yet.” Andrew snatched my wrists and sat my palms flat on the table on each side of me.
His teeth sank gently into my shoulder, and I shifted my hips, desperate to find more friction against him. Andrew’s lips found mine, and his tongue swiped across, his hand clenching my throat with just the right amount of pressure. He broke our kiss, his lips swollen and red. We were both silent, breathing as if we’d just come up from a deep dive. His gaze coasted over my face, his expression unreadable. There was lust and hunger, but there was also something else tender and timid, and he looked like he wanted to speak but couldn’t form words.
“What?” I murmured.
A playful smile tugged on his lips, but his gaze was earnest and direct. “Just you,” he said, leaning in again to kiss me.
