I shrugged off my jacket and left it on the bench in the middle, walking to the edge of it. I pressed my fingers against the thick glass in front of me as we moved around slowly, eagered to see everything. I did—I wanted it all. I wanted to see this gorgeous city spread before me in the night.
“We came to London right after we’d been to Paris,” George said out of the blue. His words cut through the easy silence that descended between us in the wake of my excitement.
“Really?”
“Yes. Dad had an important meeting I couldn’t attend, so Mom asked me if I’d accompany her shopping. I agreed, and at the end of the day, after dinner, she brought me here. It was marginally lighter on our journey, but I hated every second of it.”
I turned to him. “Why? How could you hate this?”
He crossed the p
I looked at him from the corner of my eyes. “Where?”“There’s no need to sound so suspicious. I can guarantee it’s a place you’ll be completely at home in.”“Where?”He tapped my hip. “You’re a little small without heels. Do you know that?”I smacked his stomach. “George! Don’t change the subject! And I am not short.”His lips spreaded into a grin. “I know, but you’re a good few inches shorter.”“This isn’t the conversation we’re having. I want to know where you’re taking me later. And I want to know now.”“Is that a demand, Miss McCartney?”“It’s a requirement I know, Mr. Stone. Or I’m not walking another step.” I stopped and put some extra oomph into stamping m
My eyebrows took up residence somewhere behind my hairline. Mrs. Stone?“We’re not married,” I corrected her politely. “Much to Mr. Stone’s chagrin.”He gave me a look that said I’ll regret that later.“Oh, I’m ever so sorry.” She placed a hand on her chest. “That’s what one gets for assuming.”“It’s okay.” I smiled. “I doubt you’ll be the last to.”She returned my smile. “Can I help you in any way?”“Hmm…” My eyes foind the tiny strings I saw George eying contemplatively earlier. I picked up the white one beneath a matching basque and showed her it. “Do you have this in any other colors?”George clearee his throat and shifted when I looked at him.“We do. They’re jus
“George,” I put a warning in my voice this time, and he laughed.“Don’t worry. I’m not doing anything ridiculously impulsive or drastic. Not right now.” He covered my mouth with his before I could respond, and I lightly punched his chest.“What have you done? Are you doing? Going to do? Whatever it is. What is it?”“Nothing. I’m messing with you. I haven’t done anything. I promise.” He dropped another kiss to my lips.“Yet? There’s always a yet with you. Always.”“I’m not promising I won’t, but I haven’t done anything at this moment in time.”“Oh, because that makes me feel so much better,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “You scare me. Do you know that?”He pushed away from the table and grabbed his tea, watching me over
“Yes, sir.”We spent the rest of the dinner in silence before we all stepped into the gardens for drinks while the tables were cleared away. I engaged in casual conversation with Ivan, doing my best to keep him away from yet another of Tess’s bridesmaids.“Come dance,” he said, dragging me back into the room.“Your sister has to have her dance first, and I think George would likely kill you.”“Tomorrow, maybe, and he’s not here right now. Let me steal one.” He winked, his grin oozing boyish charm instead of sexuality, and I found myself giving in.“Fine. Okay. But I’m not being held responsible for this.”“I’ll take the blame.”We stood by the side and watched as Mich took Tess in his arms. A smile teased my lips as they moved elegantly across th
“And?” He cupped my face and pulled me back from him when I didn’t answer. “And fucking what, Gina?”“And I’m going to tell her I’m done. I’m leaving. I quit.”His lips crashed into mine with a ferocity I never believed possible. They stoke a fire deep in the pit of my belly with each hard and forceful movement across mine.“Does this mean you forgive me?”I nodded against him. “I do.”“I don’t know how you do, but I’m… God.” He kissed me again. “I’m the luckiest bastard.”“I know,” I mumbled.He buried his face into my hair and took a deep breath. “You’re incredible, you know that? I am so very, very lucky to have you.” He pressed his lips to my collarbone, and the words tumbled
George pushed himself inside me slowly, so slowly that I felt the stretching of all my muscles as every inch of him found its home. Each stroke was deeper than the last, long and sweet, deliciously erotic. His heavy breath in my ear was seductive, and I don’t remember ever feeling this way.Like right now, in this moment, it was just me and him and the love that was finally out in the open.Like everything was perfect.“George.” His name was a desperate plea from my lips as I felt the orgasm inside, coiling and sculpting deep in my belly, sending red-hot shoots of pleasure out.“Easy, baby.” He kissed my neck, lingering on my pulse point.“Please… I need…”He pushed right into me, hitting the right spot, and pulled back out. He did this again, still slowly, still gently, still with a remarkab
And I am. In all honesty, I was completely glad he hired me that night. Regardless of the events since, staying and seeing it out was the best thing I could have done.I couldn’t control love. I knew this. But I can control how much of an impact it had on my life. I can control whether or not I choose to let it be my life. And that’s what I was doing. Instead of letting it spiral crazily inside me, instead of fighting it, I was embracing it.I was giving George my all, and he was giving me his.I looked out the window. “Um, this isn’t the way to my house.”“I know. You’re staying with me tonight.”“Demanding again, Mr. Stone?”“Requirement, Miss McCartney.”“You’re getting awfully requirement-happy lately. Are you aware of this?”His eyes crashe
"I am so mad at you right now that I don’t even know what to say.” I knocked his hand from me and walked into the bedroom, letting the door slam behind me.The bedroom.Our bedroom.I kicked off my shoes and left my clothes in a heap before climbing into bed.Our bed.Huh.***A mug of coffee was waiting on the nightstand when I woke up. I stole a look at the clock on George’s side, blinking when it read eight thirty p.m. I had slept all afternoon?Damn jet lag.I inhaled the rich scent of the coffee before taking my first sip. It was still piping hot, and my eyes flit to the open bedroom door. I couldn’t hear anything—no television, no music, no low rumble of his voice.I placed the cup back on the side and grabbed some shorts and a tank from the closet. Seeing my clothes nex
