The grin that never fails to make my heart swell with love pops onto his face. “I thought I might get lucky tonight.”
“Only tonight?” I arch an eyebrow. “I think you got lucky last night, and the night before, and…”
Laughing, he cradles my face between his large, warm palms and kisses me hard. I open up, feel his tongue glide against mine and taste a hint of tequila and him. Yum.
White heat unfurls, making my nipples bead and my clit ache. I rub myself shamelessly against him.
The elevator stops, and the doors open. We rush out into the hall. This time, Court finds the right suite on the first try.
As soon as we’re inside, he pushes me against the wall. His mouth crashes over mine, and I devour him with all the unrestrained hunger growing within me.
This is our get-lucky place. And we are definitely getting lucky tonight.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Pascal
I roll over, feeling the soft, luxurious cotton sheets against my skin. I lost count of the number of times we screwed, but I’m slightly sore—in all the right places. Maybe we can do it again. It’s only… I open one eye to check the time on the bedside clock. Ten. On Sunday. Definitely more sex. Then a shower. Then eat. Or maybe a shower, then more sex, then eat…
I shift toward Court, then stop when I see his side of his bed is empty. I still and listen for any sound from the bathroom. Nope, nothing. I touch the pillow. It’s cool against my hand.
Huh. Where did he go?
I start to sit up, then stop when I see something on the indent of the pillow. A fifty-dollar bill…folded into a heart.
I pick it up with a smile. How adorable.
“Pretty good, huh?” Court says, coming in from the living room. He’s already freshly showered, a towel wrapped around his tight waist.
I eye-fuck him. Because a body that lean, strong and gorgeous deserves it.
“Oh. So you’re too busy admiring this”—he sweeps his hand over his six-pack—“to give some love to my origami heart?”
I tilt my chin up primly. “Not my fault. You’re the one flashing me.” Then, since I don’t want to make him feel like I’m ignoring his effort, I run my index finger along the edge of the heart. “Did you fold this yourself?”
“Yup.” He grins, taking his spot on the bed. He shoves the pillow behind him and leans against it. “I thought it symbolized our love for each other. Fifty bucks and your heart.”
I flush, absurdly touched by his sentimentality. “We don’t need a physical token. I’ll show you my love every day.”
“And I’ll show you mine…but maybe you can keep this safe for me.” He puts a hand over my heart.
“Okay.” I hold the fifty-dollar heart with more care, then realize something’s off. I can feel something round and hard inside.
“Open it,” he whispers.
My pulse racing, I open it, taking care not to rip the note. Inside is a platinum ring with a huge diamond in the center, set between sapphires on either side. I place a trembling hand over my lips. “Oh my God. Court.”
He gazes at me with love shining in his beautiful gaze. “Pascal Snyder, you’re the center of my universe, the keeper of my heart. I love you. Will you marry me?”
Tears prickle my eyes, and my pulse pounds like it’s ready to gallop away. I start to say yes until I realize something. He didn’t ask me in English. He asked me in…Klingon?
Oh. My. God. He speaks Klingon?! Shit. My mouth parts. He understood what I was saying all this time? What the hell did I say? Anything bad? Panic gums up the gears in my head, and I can’t think. Finally I say, “tlhIngan Hol Dajatlh’a’?” You speak Klingon?
“Actually,” he says, “I speak English and Klingon. I’m a man of many talents.”
“But you speak Klingon! All this time!”
He nods. “Since I was about twelve.”