‘We’ll see.’
From inside the room a knock sounds. My tummy gives a low grumble, right on cue. He grins at me. ‘Dinner.’
I slip inside behind him, wondering if he’s right. Wondering if Gareth’s calling because he wants to make his wife jealous. Wondering if he’s calling because he regrets leaving me. Knowing with one hundred per cent of myself that I don’t care either way. I was devastated when we broke up, I hated how unlovable I felt, how completely unworthy of anyone’s love, and then I hated him for having that power over me.
Right now, the only man I have any time for, the only one I have interest in thinking about at all, is the gorgeous specimen holding the door open for the hotel waiter. He signs the cheque and we’re alone again—and suddenly the fact we have two nights left together is like a spark igniting in my bloodstream.
Precious minutes and hours and then nothing—and I’m going to make the most of what time we have left.
CHAPTER NINE
WHEN I WAKE up it’s with dawn light creeping into the room, through the open balcony doors. The day is already warm. I lift myself up, my eyes dragging over his sleeping body, a satisfied smile curving my lips.
I am laced with pleasure and contentment. Shifting just a little, I pull out of bed, checking the time on my phone. It’s still early—in the fives. Biting down on my lip, I tiptoe into the bathroom and splash water on my face, finger-combing my hair over my shoulder before turning around, leaning into the doorjamb, staring back into the room to where he still sleeps. My clothes are folded neatly on the chair to my left—him, again. I reach across, picking them up, dressing silently, my eyes frequently straying to his sleeping form.
This is one of the strangest turns of fate in my life. Who would have thought the meaningless one-night stand I picked up on the eve of my ex’s wedding would turn out to be a client? No, that he’d turn out to be Jagger. Smart, kind, insightful, seriously hot Jagger.
I walked out of his hotel room in Sydney with no intention of seeing him again, and I know I wouldn’t have regretted that. I know that was the obvious decision—why stick around until morning? Sure, more sex maybe, but then that awkward conversation, the hedging around swapping numbers—and if he hadn’t asked for my number?
That same feeling of being unwanted would have crested over me. Instead, I got to walk away on my terms, in my own time.
Just like I would at the end of this trip.
Okay, he’d be walking away too, or flying away on his swanky private jet, but we’d both be turning our backs on each other, and this, by mutual consent. No going out on a limb, asking for more, wanting an impossible dream.
This isn’t like with Gareth. He said one thing and meant completely another. He didn’t listen to what I wanted; he made no efforts to accommodate my wishes. Just like Jagger said last night, Gareth was unwilling to compromise for me. It was all me giving, all the time. My anger is self-directed.
When did I become that woman? When did I let myself give up on my own wants and needs?
A smile curves my lips, a smile of feminine power and wisdom, because I feel strong and confident, I feel safe. I feel like my place here is clearly defined. I feel...everything.
With my smile growing, I remember the way he went down on me in the jet, the way he left me hanging, so overloaded with desire for him I could have wept. Flames burst in my bloodstream. Quietly, I tiptoe to his side of the bed and pull at the sheet, easing it off his body so he lies there, my naked Zeus, powerful, muscular, handsome—mine. For now, at least.
Careful not to wake him—yet—I drop my mouth over the tip of his cock, circling it. In his sleep, he makes a groaning noise. I smile, and then grip his base, bringing my mouth down his length. He grows hard as I move my mouth up and down, and when I lift my eyes up the length of his body, flashing over his flat chest to his chin, stubbled and square, he’s pushed up on his elbows and is watching me with eyes that are not even remotely sleepy.
I flash him a quick smile before sucking him deep inside my mouth, so his tip hits the back of my throat, and he lets out a low moan, a rough sound, and I move faster, harder, my fingers curling around his base, squeezing him as my mouth drives up and down. Power thrills in my veins as I feel him throb in my mouth and a drop of his seed spills into me.
‘Jesus, Grace...’ He drops back on the pillow. ‘Don’t you fucking stop...’
I roll my tongue over his tip and pull up slightly. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Hart, but I think you’ll find it’s daytime...’
He blanches, pushing up once more, glaring at me. ‘You’re kidding?’
‘Oh, no,’ I say sweetly, standing up, moving towards his head. ‘And we have a deal, remember?’
‘Fuck the deal.’
I laugh softly. ‘But how will you know I’m a woman of my word?’
He sits up straight. ‘Come here,’ he growls, pulling for my hips, and I laugh, shaking my head, pulling just out of reach.
‘We have a deal,’ I purr, scooping my handbag up off the carpet and moving towards the door. I turn my hand over the knob, throwing a glance over my shoulder. My eyes lock to his and heat sizzles in my veins, making me want to go back to him, to give in to temptation—to hell with whatever we’ve agreed. ‘Don’t worry, Jagger. Only fourteen hours to go.’
His eyes narrow. ‘You’re going to regret playing with fire.’
I laugh. ‘Probably.’ I blow him a kiss. ‘But I don’t right now.’
* * *