“And in the meantime you want to make love with me?”

She nodded slowly, his hands still holding her. “Yes. Does that make me... Is there something wrong with me?”

“There’s something wrong with both of us. Because whether I should or not, I’m going to have you tonight.”

“When you say things like that... Alex, it’s enough to drive a woman totally insane. And in a good way.”

“Is it?”

“No one else has ever wanted me. Not really. Not me.”

“I do,” he said. “Feel how much?” He put her hand on his chest, over his heart, then guided it downward, over his denim-covered erection. “Do you feel that?”


“Yes,” she said, squeezing him. “Impossible not to.”

“Then you can’t be in any doubt of how much I want you. Want this. If you’re sure of one thing, be sure of me. Of how much I want you.”

“You really do say nice things.”

“I’m honest. When I want to be.”

“That instills a lot of confidence,” she said, moving her hand over him, cupping him through his jeans. “I think you should take these off.”

“In a moment. I want to watch you take your dress off. We’re always in a hurry. I don’t want to rush this.”

“I might not give you a choice,” she said, moving away from him to the center of the bed and sliding a strap from her shoulder. “I might jump on you.”

“I welcome the challenge,” he said. “You wouldn’t be half so much fun if you weren’t always pushing me.”

“You actually enjoy my back talk?” she asked, pushing down the second strap.

“I more than enjoy it. It turns me on. I’ve seen enough passive, hollow-eyed women, bent on doing what they’re told just to get a fix. Of a drug. Of a person. I don’t want that from you. I don’t want empty compliance or...that thing that you’ve been doing where you try to make everyone’s life easy at the expense of what you want. I want fire.”

She smiled and tugged at the zipper on the back of her dress, letting it fall down, revealing her breasts. “I think I can give you that.”

She was trying to keep it light, keep it sassy, but it was hard to do when she felt as if she might cave in on herself. As if all the emotion that was inside of her was going to expand too far, and when everything came to a crashing halt, she would just fold right in.

She pushed the dress over her hips. The sunlight was bright, filtering in through the window, and she was naked now. But she didn’t feel awkward. She felt incredible. Because he did want her. Because he didn’t want her as the woman she was when she put on her mask and tried to become the perfect hostess. The one who never sent a ripple over the surface of anyone’s life.

He was okay with her not falling in line. With her not being perfect.

“I’ll never be perfect,” she said, the words spilling out of her mouth. She was physically naked, so she might as well be emotionally naked, too.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You look completely perfect to me.”


Tags: Maisey Yates Billionaire Romance