Page 66 of Love Me Tomorrow

Seeking reprieve, I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

No dice.

Savannah’s shirt falls to the floor in a whisper of cotton hitting slate. She’s wearing nothing but a plain bra. No lace. No frills.

She’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

“Rose,” I rasp, somehow managing to find my voice, ragged though it is, “what’re you doing?”

Her hands land on my chest. “I’m taking what I want,” she says, pushing me backward. I dwarf her slender frame, easily, but it’s like she’s looped a collar around my neck, then cinched the bastard tight, because I follow her lead without objection.

Sidestepping the coffee table.

My ass landing on the brand-new couch.

The cushions sinking beneath the sudden onslaught of my weight, even while my focus is singularly centered on the woman in front of me. Gracefully, she takes a seat on the glass table. Legs spread, long, thick hair draping in front of her bra-covered breasts. Her bare toes dig into the plush rug, and yeah, mine are doing the same.

I don’t know where she’s going with this but I’m in.

All in.

“Thirty-five years of doing what people want of me,” she says now, her voice husky, her gaze locked on my face. “Go to Tulane, they told me. I went to Tulane. Work in restaurants, they said. I slaved away more hours bussing tables than I ever cared to.” She reaches behind her, and that plain bra of hers comes loose. The straps slip down her arms, until she’s holding the bra up by one finger. “Date the good boy,” she murmurs, her thumb idly gliding up the strap, “marry the good boy. No one ever said anything about loving the good boy. No one ever said anything about the good boy lovingme.Not once.”

I swallow, tightly, my fingers digging into the sofa on either side of my hips. “Move your hair, sweetheart.”Give me a peek of those perfect tits of yours.

The bra lands on the floor. “Not yet.”

A frustrated groan barrels its way up my throat.

She’s going to kill me. Fucking destroy me.

Probably karma for the way I tested her limits yesterday. I deserve it—maybe—but that doesn’t mean I have to play fair. Tit for tat, and all that jazz.

Leaning forward, I grasp the fabric of my T-shirt by the nape, then hike it up and over my head. Toss it on the floor, on top of her discarded bra.

Savannah’s mouth falls open. “What are you doing?” she demands, a little breathless. That haughty heiress expression of hers is good, but not that good. Her gaze hungrily soaks me up, tracking the tattoos on my chest, my arms, the base of my throat, before dipping down to the waistband of my jeans. “Oh.”

I feel my mouth tug up into a smirk. “You’re oglin’.”

“You—you have a tattoo—”

Sinking back into the cushions, I splay a hand over the angel wings inked just above my belt buckle. They span from hip to hip, but instead of heavenly feathers, the wings are composed of bones. Skeletons. For every bit of beauty in the world, there’s always the darkness that follows. You either cave to it, or you crush it to the ground. I’ve spent a lifetime struggling to come out on top.

“You can lick it,” I drawl, feeling not the least bit remorseful about throwing her rebuttal back in her face, “but not yet.”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, her gaze slipping shut. Closing me out like she can’t bear to look at me without wanting to fall to her knees. Oh, yeah. I’m all in for this.

I grin.

Spread my arms wide across the back of the sofa.

Drop my voice to a gravel-pitched whisper, when I push, “Keep takin’ it, sweetheart. What you want. What you crave. I promise that I can handle it all.”

She audibly swallows. Peels open her beautiful eyes a second before she reaches for the button of her slacks with trembling fingers. Hesitates there, like she’s not sure whether to take the next step.Please, please do.

“All my life,” she murmurs, “I’ve done what’s expected of me. It was my own doing, too, of course. I could have pushed back; I could have flashed the world the bird and gone on my merry way . . . but I didn’t.”

“There’s no time limit on dreaming,” I say. “You don’t suddenly hit a certain age and find yourself imprisoned by your past mistakes.”

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