"I'm sure he loves that."
I c
huckle. "Oh, he does."
The bedroom door opens, and James struts in wearing a white dress shirt, a black fucking bow tie, and matching suspenders that connect to tux pants. My jaw flops to the floor as my gaze takes in the length of his body.
"Damn, baby," I say in awe. James's confidence is in his stride, the quiet way he holds himself, and how he doesn't smirk like a know-it-all. "We're gonna be late." He gives me a dirty smile that heats my blood in the best way.
"Annnnddd that's my cue," Natalie says. "I have a date with the lemon man that I apparently need to get ready for."
James leans over and I tilt my head back to give him a kiss. "If you don't want to go, then don't," I tell Natalie.
She hesitates. "It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
"I just feel like I shouldn't be drinking alone with him."
I frown. "Why's that?"
"Because I think he would give back just as good as I give. I'd want a second serving."
"And the problem is…?"
Natalie huffs obnoxiously loud into the phone. I grin, knowing I got her. "I want to do filthy, nasty things to him, okay? Like leave a mark on him so he always remembers me."
"There it is." I chuckle, my voice a little higher but full of laughter. "Despite his corny comment, you still want to hook up with him."
"I have eyes, okay, and they like what they saw… a lot."
She's so annoyed with herself that I can't stop smiling. Natalie isn't the type to fall hard, but she does love the pretty boys. I can tell this guy is on her mind and that she actually wants to go see him. She just needs a little push.
"Listen, I have to go and ravish your dad before we leave for the dinner, but I think you should go and live in the moment and have fun. Text me tomorrow, ho."
I disconnect our call, not giving her a chance to respond, and put my cell phone down. I rise in my five-inch heels and walk to where James is standing in front of our dresser putting on his cuff links. He looks like a beast from behind, and I wonder if there will ever be a time when he doesn’t make my heart rush for him over the simplest thing. I catch his reflection in the mirror and fall into what he's doing. Stepping close to him, my fingers slide over his to lock in the first cuff link. Before I can reach for the other, James grips my fingers and holds me in place. My stomach clenches. He already looks like a walking wet dream and smells like the devil is testing me. I don't need much of a push at this point.
I look at our fingers and smile at the contrast. Mine are boney and milk white with a delicacy to them. His are much thicker, darker, and seasoned with age. With his other hand, James uses his index finger to tip my jaw up toward him.
"It's taking everything in me not to rip your clothes off right now and have my wicked way with you," I blurt out before he can say anything.
Everyone loves a good compliment, and James doesn't hide the fact he likes what I said. The smile that lights up his whole face rouses a need inside of me. He palms my waist and slides his hand over my hip.
"The feeling is entirely mutual, sweetheart. Every day of my life I feel that way, and it's not just because of your beauty. It's because of up here," he says, gently tapping my temple. "I love your vision and your drive, that you allow me to be part of your life with you." James pauses, and I swallow hard. "And right here," he says, placing his hand over my heart. "Because you love me unconditionally, and you allow me to love you the only way I know how." A soft gasp clutches my throat. James showed me how to make love with untamed passion. "And then, right here," he finishes, two fingers pressed to my lips. "You make me so happy, Aubrey. I don't know what I'd do without you."
The longer he stares into my eyes, the harder my heart beats for this man. His gaze is intense, like there's something on the tip of his tongue he wants to say. I wait for another moment to pass and wonder if he's looking at me like I am him, like he’s my whole world.
Thanks to my heels, I don't have to stand on my tiptoes to reach him. Leaning in, I press my stained lips to his, the prickly fine hairs of his mustache are like sharp little knives on my skin that only heightens his touch. The urge to feel his lips on mine after the way he spoke from his heart is too strong to deny. Sometimes a kiss is more intimate than sex and creates a deeper connection by way of showing love for someone.
I expect his hand to cup my ass and give me a rough squeeze, like I know he loves to do, but James surprises me. Pressing his body to me, his thick tongue strokes over mine and tugs as his hand drags down to my sex. I gasp around his kiss and tense from the blitz of need assaulting me in all the right ways. My skin is tingling from head to toe. James slips his hand beneath my robe and slip and cups my pussy, making sure one of his fingers is painfully teasing my entrance while there's pressure on my clit. I grind against his hand, aching for more already. I love when James's control is unforgiving, how he knows exactly how to touch me to make me weak for him. How to make me melt in his hands.
I grip his shoulders. "James." His name is a prayer on my lips. "I need you."
His kiss is deep and slow and leaves me breathless. There's nothing like a man who appreciates sex but gets total gratification in making his partner feel good too. James is that man.
"We have twelve minutes until we leave. Turn around and bend over. We don't have time for you to get fixed up again, and I don't have another pair of tux pants."
"We can wait until after," I suggest with a flirtatious glint in my eyes. "Allow the temptation to build."