Say Yes (Hush, Hush 2)

"I'm always up for you," I say, dropping my voice to match the mood. James loves when I go full Valentina on him.

My fingers reach the last button. I push his shirt open to reveal the colorful tattoos on his chest. For fifty-six, he's in better shape than most twenty-year-olds. Brawny, virile, and still hot as sin. James Riviera is all mine. It's hard to see the actual designs in the shadows, but I know the colorful swirls of ink on his skin by heart. My palms slide up his abs, feeling each rib of muscle, then over to his pecs. I scoot down to undo his belt, but he reaches out to stop me before I can even pull it free.

My eyes snap to his. Without saying a word, James flips me over so he's looming above me. He pulls me in with his steel gaze like there's something he has to say, and I'm lost to him. He lowers his body and gives me his weight. My fingers thread through his hair while I revel in the touch of his bare chest between my thighs.

"Val can wait until this weekend," he says, and my brow creases in confusion. "We're going to Tahiti for a week. I already have it set up and cleared your schedule with your assistant, and I made sure the cats are well taken care of."

My eyes widen in surprise, my heart rushing fast from excitement. Before I can respond, James says one more thing that makes me a goner for him all night.

"Right now, give me my Aubrey and let me make music with her body."

Two

Since James and I were reunited that day in Chelsea—thanks to Natalie—he's taken me all around the world every chance we’ve had.

We've been to each continent and tried as many delicacies as our bellies could hold. He knew I wanted to travel and see the world, but he also knew how important it was for me to focus on Sanctuary, my non-profit women’s and children’s shelter. As crazy as it may seem, the amount of money I made while working as a high-end escort was enough to set myself up financially for the rest of my life and pay it forward to help those in need. I feel good knowing I could give back. In some way, it makes me feel like Grammy is still around.

My chin is resting on the tops of my hands while I lay on my stomach in our private over-the-water bungalow room. Behind me, James is giving me a hot-oil tissue massage. He spared no expense on this trip. It's still early morning and the French doors are open wide. The spray from the salty sea blends too perfectly with the rich, floral scent of the frangipani flower. I inhale the decadent aroma as I stare at the crystal teal water lapping under the cloudless sky. I could sit here all day.

James doesn't think twice when it comes to needing time away to breathe from the rat race we live in. He just gets up and goes. Sometimes he takes me on a surprise vacation for two days, other times for two weeks. I used to worry at first because Sanctuary demanded so much of my time. I'd feel bad for enjoying the pleasures in life while seeing firsthand how people struggled to get on their feet. Some of the members didn't have two pennies to rub together when they first walked in, and now they have part-time jobs. Seeing them thrive makes me happy, but it all comes with a price.

Sanctuary has grown so much over the course of two years that I'm opening another one on the other side of town. The second location will cater to single fathers and their children. Call me naïve, but I never knew how many men were left alone to raise their children and in need of help. Society always assumes it’s the woman, but there are just as many men who are raising their children with nothing.

"What are you thinking about?" James asks, pressing his thumb into my shoulder to knead out the tension. I let out a sigh and close my eyes. This feels incredible. He gives the best back massages.

"That you're so good to me," I say, my voice taking on a dreamy tone. James applies more hot oil and I sink deeper into the bed as his hands spread over my back.

"I'd do anything for you," he says, then leans down to press a kiss between my shoulder blades. "I know you're stressed about Retreat." A small smile tips my lips at the mention of my second shelter. "Right now, the only thing I want you to focus on is us, and what my hands are doing to you while I work out these knots. There's nothing else you can do for the shelter, sweetheart, everything is finished and ready for the opening."

I let out a sigh. "I know. I just feel like I'm missing something. It doesn't help that the gala is the same day."

When I’d learned I would be one of the four recipients of the New York City Women of Impact Humanitarian Awards, a swarm of butterflies invaded my nerves. I haven't been able to stop thinking about the upcoming dinner, or how I had been chosen for this particular award in a city housing eight million people. Adding to my stress is Retreat opening the same day. It will be a moment I will always remember and feel in my heart. I don’t want anything to tarnish that feeling.

"That's normal. You've invested a lot of time, money, and energy into it. This isn't just a hobby for you, this is your life and what you love. It's what drives you. I know you want it to run smoothly, and it will. Just stop thinking about it for five minutes."

I bob my head. I really do want that, but my anxiety is still there and wreaking havoc on my nerves.

I draw in a breath and exhale the worries like James said. I focus on his touch, how he flattens his hands and spreads his fingers as he applies pressure downward, then drives them up my spine until I feel a tingle in my pussy. His fingers curl around the curve of my shoulders. A little moan escapes my parted lips and my back sweeps up in an erotic curve in response. His hot fingers tease the sides of my exposed breasts until I'm writhing on the mattress. My nipples are puckered, and the cool sheets do nothing to tame the pleasure t

hey're receiving. James moves his fingers over my ribs, slowly gliding them down to my hips. I clench my thighs, feeling the wetness between them. Friction surrounds my clit and the pressure intensifies. My body breaks out in need as his fingers squeeze my pelvis while arching my hips at the same time. James leans down and kisses the small of my back. My toes curl as he makes his way up my spine, peppering my back with kisses.

The only problem with James giving me back massages with hot oil is that all I want is sex right after.

His fingers are on the back of my neck again, this time threading through my hair. My lips part in bliss. I love having my hair played with like this, and James knows it. His hands cup my scalp and he massages my head with a sensual tug of my hair.

"James…" I grin then laugh. "I know what you're doing."

"And what's that, sweetheart?"

I rise up on my elbows and look over my shoulder at him. He's humoring me.

Every time I look at him, my heart does this stupid flip-skip thing that causes the organ to swell larger for him than the cage it's held in. We're an unlikely pair with him being thirty-plus years older than me, yet we couldn't seem more perfect for each other. It's been four years since we met, and I swear the man hasn’t aged. He's still rocking the salt and pepper hair with the matching beard, but now with more tattoos and a tad more muscle. The crow lines around his eyes have deepened in color too. I know people stare at us a little longer when we're in public together, but I don't care. He's mine and I wear him proudly.

"Come here," I say, waving two fingers at him.

James leans over me while still straddling me from behind. I cup the back of his head and pull him to me so I can feel his lips on mine. I kiss him once and his mouth opens, allowing me to slip my tongue inside and lay it against his. I give it a little sensual tug and lean into him as I do. James returns the kiss ten times better, then moves off me so he's on his back and I'm hovering over him. I hitch my leg up to rest on his inner thigh, my knee laying against his heavy sack. I scoot closer to him and peer into his glossy eyes, immediately desiring more when his thick thigh presses against my wet pussy. Sensing my arousal, James applies pressure.

"I love you," he whispers. His hand fists my hair and he studies me like I'm the eighth wonder of the world