Page 30 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

I blink. “You… planned this before we even left New York?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I wanted you to have a good day.”

My heart flutters, aches a little. Why? Why go to this effort? Why flowers and gifts that probably cost more than my yearly salary?

He tilts his head, studying me. “Your head is spinning. What are you thinking?”

I force a small smile. “Just… surprised. That’s all. Thank you.”

“You already thanked me,” he says softly, a faint smile in his voice.

I look down at my croissant, picking at the flaky layers. “You have a meeting later?”

“Yes. Should be done by early afternoon. Then we can have lunch after.”

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I’d like that.”

We finish breakfast in a comfortable silence. Afterward, he stands and offers his hand.

“Shower?”

I take it.

His bathroom is all marble, just like the one in my room. He turns on the rainfall shower, and we step under together. His hands are everywhere, soaping my back, my breasts, between my legs. I press against him, and soon he’s lifting me, my legs wrapping around his waist.

He fucks me against the tiled wall, slow at first, then harder, deeper, water pounding around us. I cling to his shoulders, moaning his name, coming apart again with his mouth on my throat and his cock buried inside me.

After we get out of the shower, I watch from the bed, now wrapped in one of Leonid’s fresh shirts, legs tucked under me, watching him get ready for his meeting.

He slips into a fresh charcoal shirt and suit jacket, looking every inch the untouchable billionaire again.

“Back by early afternoon,” he promises, leaning down and brushing his thumb across my cheek. “We’ll have lunch. Be ready.”

I nod, my heart doing that stupid flutter thing again. “Okay.”

He leaves with one last heated look that makes my skin tingle.

The door clicks shut, silence settles over the suite, and suddenly it feels too big without him in it. I reach for my phone on the nightstand and call Tasha.

She picks up on the second ring. “Hey girl,” she answers sleepily.

I keep forgetting about the time difference. “Oh, did I wake you? I can call back later.”

Tasha quickly sits up. “Don’t you dare. I’m living vicariously through you. So spill, how is Paris? How are things between you and Mr. Nine inches?”

I laugh. “You have to stop calling him that.”

“Whatever. Happy Valentine’s Day. How is it going?”

I let out a deep breath. “Well, I woke up to flowers. Roses. And gifts from Leonid.”

Tasha screams so loud that I start laughing.

“YES! YES YES YES! He likes you! He freaking likes you, Laurel! Valentine’s gifts? Shopping spree on his card? That man isn’t playing at being professional; he wants to fuck you!”

She snorts. “No strings, my ass. That’s boyfriend behavior, babe. Or at least ‘I want to fuck you and maybe more’ behavior.”

I bite my lip, cheeks heating. “We… kinda already did.”