Page 18 of One Weekend in London

“I am extremely on board with that plan.” Rife with possibilities, my mind plots all the ways I could bring her happiness, proving I can be everything she’s ever wanted. “Tell me, what did you have in mind?”

She takes a fortifying breath, her lashes fluttering.

“Well, seeing as my time here’s running short”—like bloody hell it is—“I figured I might as well go all in, you know?” Her cheeks stain an even deeper crimson as mischief dances in her eyes. “And what better way to uncover the city’s hidden gems than by having a smoking-hot local show me around?” An adorable tease, she waggles her eyebrows. “Maybe one with... benefits? That’s if things go well tomorrow.”

Possessive hunger rolls through me in a blistering wave, my cock pressing painfully against my fly, nearly bursting through the zippered seam.

“Define these benefits. Slowly.”

Her tongue peeks out to wet her lips, and I barely muffle a tortured groan, all the blood in my body suddenly heading south.

“It’s like the saying goes...”

Despite her earlier teasing, her voice now trembles with nerves, proving she isn’t typically this forward, a fact that pleases me.

Immensely.

“There’s no better way to get over one man than by getting under another.” She releases a shaky exhale, likely in disbelief she just spoke such words. “Then again, maybe I’m being too crazy and wild. I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m some hussy. I’ve only been with my ex, and—”

If she finishes that thought, I’ll go mad.

“I think,” I interrupt gently, biting back the searing jealousy that scorches my soul over her having been with someone else. Briefly, I fantasise about killing him with my bare hands, erasing his privileged memory of having such perfection beneath him. “That you’re the most enchanting woman I’ve ever met. Bold and coy in equal measure.”

My lips quirk.

“And I’m exceedingly amenable to serving as the man who will kiss, lick, and fuck you so hard and so well you’ll permanently forget your ex’s wretched touch.”

With my filth-laden words effectively hitting their mark, after a few seconds she sits up straighter, emboldened, and inadvertently pushing her breasts together.

I clench my jaw. If she keeps this up...

“Is that so?” She flicks her hair over her shoulder, which I’ve already noticed she often does. “Think you’re up for showing a heartbroken Georgia girl a good time?”

“Oh, I’m more than up for it.”

I palm my straining erection through my trousers, squeezing hard. Her eyes snap downward, and she visibly swallows. I wonder if she’s picturing where my hand is, what it’s doing. I’d give every pound in my bank account to have her fingers replace mine, to have her mouth wrap around my cock, swallowing my throbbing length.

“By the time I’m through with you, beautiful, you’ll have screamed my name so many bloody times you’ll have forgotten every other bloke who’s dared look your way exists. Their names and faces? Wiped from your memory. For eternity.”

She squirms in her chair, likely rubbing her thighs together. Thighs I crave to push apart, wedging first my shoulders and face, then my hips and cock between.

“Awfully confident in your abilities there, aren’t you mister?”

“I don’t make assurances and promises I can’t keep.” My wolfish grin is comprised of pure sin and heady desire. “And with you, I’ll over-deliver every time or die trying.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.” Tapping her chin with her index finger, she smirks, her playfulness something I’m quickly becoming addicted to. “Besides, in addition to maybe finding out if your cock is as big as your oversized ego, I’ve still got a hefty sightseeing checklist to conquer, you know. Ride the Eye, catch a boat down the Thames, attend a second show in the West End—”

“Which we’ll do, along with anything else your heart desires.” I pin her with an unwavering, heated look. “But once night falls, I’ll take you on a different kind of ride.”

Spots of colour bloom on her chest and along her throat, but her smile only widens. “I may be a sheltered country girl, but I know an innuendo when I hear one.”

My mouth waters, imagining her taste. “Not an innuendo. Like every offer I make, it’s an ironclad guarantee.”

Her breathing audibly quickens, and the air in my home office takes on a charge so electric the tiny hairs on my nape rise in response. Fucking hell. I’m tempted to have Mark fetch the car so we can drive to her hotel, where I’d pin her to the wall, caging her in with my arms, and claim that beautiful mouth of hers with my own.

“Pick you up at eight sharp, then?”

My mind is splintering, the primal need to close the miles between my penthouse and her hotel, claiming what I know is meant to be mine, driving me to the brink of madness.

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