Chilled champagne waited for them in his office, which took up an entire side of the building. One hand on the small of her back, he led her to the far corner of the room, where floor-to-ceiling windows gave a spectacular view of Al Resab's sparkling lights, and black leather couches on the thick carpet offered a seating area. He poured Ginni a glass of champagne. She took it but did not sip.
Arms folded, she walked to the windows. "Y'know, I keep thinkin' it's not oil you should be trying to sell." Sh
e gestured out to the lights with her champagne glass. "You got a nice city here—pretty. Parks, good shops, not too many folks. Oil's going away—sooner than my daddy's thinkin'. Car makers are going electric. Solar and wind are coming in—and a lot of my generation would rather work in a pretty place and telecommute. They're looking for low cost…exotic. You ever thought about switching infrastructure to great Internet and making this the perfect spot for those lookin' to retire at twenty?"
Coming to her side, he took the champagne glass from her hand. "I don't talk business after…" He glanced at his watch and then back to her. "After nine."
She laughed and stepped away from him to peer down the side of the building. "Oh, my gosh, you've got a French pastry shop across the street—did you know that?"
Taking her hand, he pulled her away from the window. "If you like, I will order some brought up here."
"Even if they're closed. I can't do that to workin’ folks." She slipped from his hold again, heading back to the middle of the office. Glancing over her shoulder, she asked, "You got a terrace here, too?"
He nodded and stepped over to open the doors for her. Her impulsiveness was a delight at times—and frustrating at other moments. A cool breeze greeted them on his private balcony. Ginni shivered and rubbed her arms. Unbuttoning his suit coat, he pulled it off and draped it over her shoulders.
She glanced back at him. "Thanks. Didn't expect it to be so chilly."
"This is actually our winter. It has snowed once in Al Resab in all of Zahkim's history."
"How ’bout rain?"
"That mostly comes in the spring and fall. We're grateful for every drop."
Turning to face him, she tipped her head to one side. "You ever thought about investing in water instead of oil? Deep wells that could make you the—"
He kissed her, took hold of her arms, and deepened the kiss. She tasted of spices and the sweetness that was all her. She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and opened her mouth. He forgot about taking this slow, about teasing her. He forgot patience or anything except the warmth of her in his arms, the heat of her mouth, the need to be inside her.
Turning, he pressed her back against the side of the building. She gave a low moan, pulled up his shirt, and put her hands on his belly. He wanted the touch of her skin as well—the need to do more than taste drove him hard. Reaching down, he pulled up her skirt and trailed his fingers along her thighs. She gave a soft groan—and he realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath that golden dress. His cock jumped, and he pushed a finger up into her, finding her wet already, dripping and welcoming.
The last thread of control snapped inside him. Pulling his mouth from hers, he leaned his forehead against hers. "I planned—"
She put a finger over his lips. "Less thinkin'…more doin'." Fumbling with his belt, she got it unbuckled and the zipper down on his pants. Cool air brushed over him, barely lowering the heat pumping through him. She got her fingers onto his cock and stroked him, and he let out a low growl. He was not doing that again—no more fingers and hand jobs. He wanted to bury himself inside her.
Hooking a hand under her thigh, he lifted, got one of those long, luscious legs wrapped around his waist. She gave a gasp, and then he pushed into her, slipped the head of his cock into the welcoming warmth of her. She wiggled and put her hands on his shoulders.
"Wrap your legs around me."
"I…not sure…I…oh, yeah."
That was all the encouragement he needed. He pushed deeper, found her open and wet. He met a slight resistance—she was so tight—and she gave a gasp. He took her mouth in a bruising kiss, nipped at her lips, kept one hand under her thigh and put the other on her hip.
"Open for me," he said, almost gasping the words.
She gave a groan, shifted her hips, and he pushed into her. He held still a moment, held her trembling body. The breeze shifted to the west, coming from the desert, warm now, a gust of sweetness and sand.
Ginni dug her fingers into his shoulders. "You stop now and I'll never forgive you."
"No stopping," he promised.
Inside her now, he tried to slow the pace, but the small gasps she gave him, the moans, the twitches of her hips, and her breath on his neck drove him to quicken his speed. He pulled out and pushed in, going deeper this time. She gasped again, but she was so wet, so tight. She grabbed his ass with one hand.
Her orgasm hit fast. He heard her gasp. She leaned back, braced herself on the wall of the building, eyes half closed and neck stretched taut. Pulling out, he pushed in again, delighting in the feel of her in his arms—so pliant, so giving. And then she swept him along with her. Heat burst into him. The spasms shaking her claimed him as well. He gasped out her name and buried himself as deep as he could, and then he could only hang onto her, panting, the sweat cooling on his back and sticking his shirt to his skin.
A small pat on his shoulder roused him. Leaning back, he stared into Ginni's eyes, huge now. He kissed her lips and found them soft as velvet pillows.
"The plan had been to take you back to the palace and my bedroom there."
Ginni smiled. "I'm not seeing any reason to change that now."