“You’re the sexiest man alive, you know that?” She looked into my gaze with so much emotion in her eyes, like she couldn’t believe she was really there with me. Her fingers played with my hair before they slowly glided down to the side of my face. She liked to touch me, liked to explore my body.
“Actually, yes. I did know that.”
She smiled because she knew I was teasing, and it seemed to make the affection in her gaze stronger.
“And you’re the sexiest woman in the world. I hope you know that.”
“Sometimes I do…when you look at me like that.” She moved her palms to my shoulders and squeezed the muscles. Her eyes drifted over my features, as if she was looking at a sculpture rather than a real person. Then her eyes came back to mine, filled with so much love, it was hard to believe she’d ever loved anyone else but me.
“Then I’m doing my job right.” I separated her thighs so I could get closer to her. Anytime my dick was near her pussy, I thought about fucking her. How could I not? I was a man. But I also wanted to feel her heartbeat against my chest, feel us wrapped together as closely as possible.
I’d never been so satisfied without sex. I’d never been so satisfied with one woman. But there was nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. Lying with her, looking at her, was the best thing I could possibly do.
I came home late that night. It was a long day at the bank, and an even longer one on the streets. Some of my guys told me one of my distributors was trying to undercut me, so I had to take care of that in my usual way. Threats. Violence. The norm.
When I stepped inside my bedroom, it was four in the morning. I was careful as I walked across the carpet, my boots making an audible thud against the rug from my weight. I ducked into the closet and shed my suit jacket so Patricia could take it to the cleaners tomorrow. My tie was tossed in the laundry basket, and I got rid of the rest of my clothes piece by piece. When I was stripped down to my boxers, I walked over to my nightstand and placed my phone on the surface.
Annabella was asleep on her side of the bed, so tired she didn’t stir at the sound of my movements. Her hair was a mess on the pillow, and she had the sheets pulled all the way up to her neck because she was cold without me beside her.
When I looked at my nightstand, I noticed the folded white paper sitting on top. It was folded four times, a single sheet of printer paper made into a square. I knew I hadn’t left it there, so I grabbed it and quietly opened it until it was readable.
My eyes scanned over the results of a procedure until I understood what it was. Annabella got tested and wanted me to know the outcome.
She was clean.
And she was ready.
My heart started to beat a little faster as I understood the implication. My eyes moved back to Annabella, who was dreaming about a faraway place. This note told me everything I need to know.
I was hard instantly.
I folded the paper back up and inserted it into my nightstand drawer. I’d just received great news, but for now, there was nothing I could do about it.
Just had to be patient a little longer.
Fourteen
Annabella
Damien never mentioned the results I’d left on his nightstand days ago. Maybe nothing needed to be said. Or maybe he decided to be a gentleman and not question me about it. Instead of assuming I was ready to hit the sheets right away, he treated me the same. Gentle. Loving. Patient.
But a part of me wondered why we continued to wait.
When he came home every night, we had dinner at the dining table, sometimes with his father, but most of the time, it was just the two of us. The curtains were always open so I could enjoy the sunshine outside while I was home during the day. There was patio furniture on the balcony so I got to sit outside in the middle of the day and let the sunshine tan my skin. Then when he came home, we watched movies and whatever was on TV.
But most of the time, we fooled around.
We did everything but the actual act of making love. We kissed each other all night, our fingers digging into each other’s hair, my ankles locked around his waist as I fantasized about feeling him inside me. Before we went to sleep, he always kissed me good night and told me he loved me.
If felt like we’d been together forever.