Before I know what’s happening, I’m flipped onto my back and he’s hovering over me. His lips are twisted into a wicked smirk, the muscles in his arms glistening in the hot sun. My hands fly to his skin and run along the hard muscles. His skin is wet from the heat of the day, but I don’t withdraw my touch. Instead, I trace the ridges of his muscles on his back, the firmness making me ache for him.
He drops his face to mine in a slow, controlled push-up. By the time his lips reach mine, I’m nearly panting. My palms press into his sides, my hips rising to his. He kisses me hard, his mouth commanding mine to open and allow his tongue entrance.
Kissing me like it’s a language only the two of us understand, he rolls his hips into mine. His cock is stretching the fabric of his shorts, rock hard for me. I drag in a hasty breath as he pulls back.
Holding himself up with one hand, he pushes his shorts down with the other. My bottoms are off too, in a split second. Our breathing matching ragged breath for ragged breath, he slides inside me with one delicious movement.
“Ah,” I moan, feeling him fill me.
“Is that what you wanted?” He bites his bottom lip, sucking in a breath, as he gives me a chance to adjust to his length.
“Yes.” I swivel my body, letting him know I’m ready for more.
He withdraws and slips in again in a heavy motion, one that obliterates all rational thought. All I can think about is the feeling of his body in me, on me, against me, and that I want more. Of all of it. I want more Fenton any way I can get it.
The sky is a deep midnight blue with a spattering of tiny silver stars sprinkled across the endless night. Streetlamps are few and far between on this piece of highway leading back to Las Vegas. The air conditioning whirrs through the car, the white noise lulling me after a perfect day.
My eyelids are heavy. I rest my head against the glass and stifle a yawn.
Fenton reaches over and takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. It’s the most normal, basic gesture, yet it feels like so much more. “You tired, rudo?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. Despite my exhaustion, I can’t help but grin. “But it was so worth it.”
“Today was great. One of the best days I’ve had in a long time.”
He watches me with a look of contentment, his thumb stroking my knuckles back and forth. My lids grow heavier and I fight not to drift off. I want to enjoy this feeling, this stillness I feel, for as long as I can. It’s a moment that, if I could, I would hit “pause” on and live inside forever.
“When we get back to our suite, I’ll give you a bath,” he whispers, a creaminess to his tone that warms me. “And then we’ll go to bed together. But I do have a meeting early in the morning, so I won’t be there when you awaken. Order some breakfast from room service and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Maybe I’ll just sleep until you get back.”
“In that case, I’ll climb in bed with you and give you a proper good morning.”
I laugh an easy, carefree burst of happiness. “You’ve just struck another deal, Mr. Abbott.”
He draws my knuckles to his lips and places a gentle kiss to each one. He startles when his phone buzzes. He groans, but lifts his hips and digs in his pockets and retrieves it. I don’t miss the shadow that creeps across his face as he looks at the number.
Clearing his throat, he swipes the screen. “Abbott.”
I sit up, now wide awake, and watch him. The easiness of the last few hours has evaporated. His jaw twitches and he stares straight ahead. “All right.” He blanches. “Fuck!”
Placing my hand on his knee, my heart lodges in my throat. I have no idea what’s going on, but I know it isn’t good. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t acknowledge my touch.
“Do we have any additional information?” He listens intently, gripping the back of the seat in front of him with his free hand. “My God.” His head dips towards the floor for just a fraction of a second as he listens to the voice on the other end.
“This situation is out of control. I don’t give a fuck what has to be done. Even if . . .” He shakes his head, the voice on the other end getting louder. “Throw all the motherfucking money at it you have to in order to get answers, but I want them and I want them fucking yesterday!”
I flinch at the sudden outburst, drawing my hand back slowly. The vein in the side of his neck begins to throb.
I feel sick to my stomach.
“Are you not fucking listening to me, Duke?” He squeezes his temple. He’s trying to stay calm and I wonder if it’s for my benefit because I’ve never seen this side of him before. His next words come out controlled, way too bridled. “I’ve been very clear I want this . . . situation,” he chokes, “Ended. I want answers. I want amounts, locations, deals, and I don’t give a fuck how much it costs me out of pocket, do you hear me?”