Page 50 of Rim Job

“You ready, love?” His lips glide across that spot behind my ear that drives me mad.

“Mmm, Lord Banks, if you don't stop, we’ll never make it to the ball.” I spin in his grip and lace my hands together behind his neck. I sigh, leaning my head onto his chest.

I'm content. His scent wraps around me as my body melts into his hold. Never have I been so connected to a man. He just, gets me. He accepts me. No preconceived notions to live up to. Bliss. This is what bliss is. Taking comfort in the arms of the one you love.

Love.Love?

Oh, my damn, I'm in love.

No. No, no, no, no. Too soon. Way too soon for this shit. Christina Elliott, you are not in love.

“I'd much rather stay here, locked away with you.”

Yep, shit…I’m in love with Rimmington Banks.

I smile just before he closes the distance between us. His lips meet mine, and I'm lost.

I draw back. “I like your idea.” I kiss him again. I put everything into this kiss.

Thank you for marrying me.

Thank you for making me get out of my self-imposed box to experience life.

Thank you for the orgasms.

I'm really thankful for that last bit.

“What I wouldn't give to be locked in a room with you undisturbed for a couple of days.”

Same, Rim, same.

“Soon though, wife. Soon.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “If we don't leave, I might just keep you here. You ready? Mum will be mad if I don't show up to her party.”

“Ready as I'll ever be.”

He takes my hand and leads me to the door. He pauses. “Thank you for helping me.”

I nod, but a sense of foreboding niggles in the pit of my stomach. I chalk it up to nerves and let my husband lead me to the ball.

25

RIMMINGTON

“Lady Banks, you are divine.”

Christina is breathtaking in this dress. I can't wait to get her out of it.

I spin her around the dance floor, watching her ass and tits and that infectious smile of hers. She doesn't miss a beat. My girl can dance. She also lights up this room. She's bloody brilliant.

“May I cut in?” I turn to find Heathcliff Davenport tapping me on the shoulder. He gives me a smug smile while pushing his blond waves out of his face.

Fucking pretty boy.

“No. You may not,” I snarl and twirl my girl away from him, his laughter chasing us across the dance floor.

These damn friends of mine. Davenport is the fourth bastard to try and cut in. They think it's funny. I think it's pissing me off.

No one is touching my wife except me.

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