Page 91 of Mine

My eyes fly open.

Astor, looking impeccable as always, breezes past the foot of the bed and yanks open the curtains. Bright, crystal-clear light washes over the comforter.

I blink several times as I sit up, the haze of sleep still heavy in my head. “What’s going on?”

“I have an event to go to in New York tonight. You’re coming with me.”

“An event?”

“Yes, a charity gala, to be specific.” He ties back the curtains. “A black-tie event.”

A black-tie event?!

“Hang on. Are you taking me as your prisoner or as your date?”

“You’re no longer my prisoner. We both know that.”

“So . . .”

“Yes—my date.”

“Was it really that hard to say?”

“Almost as painful as that smart mouth you have on you, Miss Hart.”

“You like it. So, a date, like, out in public?” I cock a brow. “You didn’t even go out in public with your wife.”

He turns from the window and rests his hands on his hips. “Correct. You’ve obviously driven me completely mad.”

“Only you could ruin a potentially romantic comment, you know that?”

A grin tugs at those luscious lips as he meets me at the side of the bed and runs a knuckle down my cheek. “You’ve ruined me, Sabine Hart.”

Butterflies awaken. Everything is good. Last night, I confessed that I loved him, and everything is okay.

Things are good.

“Well. Unless you want me to go as your fourteen-year-old little brother,” I say, and he wrinkles his nose. “Because I only have baggy jeans and sweatshirts. I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Yes, you do. Everything you need is in your closet and bathroom. It’s a four-hour flight. We leave in two hours.” He glances at the gold Rolex glittering on his wrist. “I need to get some work in before?—”

“Wait.” I take his hand, slip out of bed, and onto my knees. I’m wearing only panties, and based on the immediate flush on his cheeks, he’s pleased by this.

“Surely, you can spare a few minutes. The emails can wait.”

“What emails?”

Grinning, I undo his belt. He’s already rock hard by the time I unzip his slacks.

I take him in my hand, this gloriously beautiful muscle that magically turns me into a confident, don’t-give-a-damn, willing slut. A new side of me that I really like.

“God, Astor.” I look up at him. “You are truly something else.”

I slide my tongue over the engorged head of his penis.

“Damn, baby.” He exhales, tipping back his head in ecstasy.

The fact that I can turn Astor on so quickly turns me on like nothing else.

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