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Is it my turn to plan a date?

I have a pounding in my throat as I send it, and a nervousness that seems somewhat ridiculous. But when he hasn’t replied an hour later, I’m having to fight not to send another text.

It’s six o’clock when finally a message buzzes in.

What a day. Hot tub? Beer? Takeout?

My smile is so huge I feel as if it’s splitting my face in two.

Perfect. See you soon?

His answer is immediate.

The sooner the better.

I breathe out, relief rushing through me. Everything’s fine; nothing to worry about, whatsoever.

CHAPTER TEN

THREE DAYS AND I feel as though I haven’t seen her in three years. It’s just like that first godawful week, after Sydney, when I had no idea who the fuck Miss Anonymous really was and I worried I might never learn. That I might never see her again, nor know the pleasure of her beautiful, sensual body.

I am beyond impatient.

I have had to fight hard not to message her, but I had the feeling when she left on Wednesday morning that she needed a bit of space, and the last thing I want is to pressure her. This is all about fun—for her and for me.

Fortunately, things exploded at work, which kept me busy. Still, I must have checked my phone eleven billion times. My bed smells like her, sweet and lightly fragranced, so I have lain awake at night and remembered everything we shared.

She arrives a little after seven and I prowl to the door, buzzing her up and waiting impatiently.

When she walks in, I groan and pull her into my arms, smiling as I kiss her, holding her tight to my body, breathing her in, tasting her, feeling her, needing her, wanting her, loving this.

‘Hey.’ My greeting, minutes later, is gruff.

‘Hey yourself.’ Hers is breathless.

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I want to drag her to bed and never leave, but already the sex thing is taking over from what was meant to be a casual flirtation, some harmless dating fun.

I have to slow that down a bit, as much as that idea is akin to scrubbing my skin with acid.

‘What do you feel like?’

Her cheeks rush with pink in that way she has.

‘For dinner,’ I clarify, grinning, anticipation tightening my gut, and in all parts of me, as I look forward to how I know this night will end.

‘Oh.’ She bites down on her lower lip; I brush my thumb over her flesh, so she parts her mouth and bites the pad of my thumb instead. ‘Pizza?’

‘A girl after my own heart.’

‘There’s a great place just a few blocks away.’

‘I’ll get delivery.’ I move towards the kitchen bench, lifting my phone and loading the app. I place an order for a few different ones. When I turn around, she’s stripped down to her underwear, her eyes locked to mine with an intensity that almost bowls me over.

‘Hot tub?’

Hell to the yeah. I nod, affecting an air of calm nonchalance. ‘Go ahead. It’s warm. I’ll grab some beers.’


Tags: Clare Connelly Billionaire Romance