Page 100 of Crossing Lines

Spasming around his dick, I grind against him, wringing out every moment of pleasure that I can. Flushed and tingling, I squeeze my inner muscles, needing him to come. His eyes widen and I grin, reaching down to grab his ass. His pace stutters and becomes uneven before he groans out his release.

“How?” He places his forehead against mine. “How is it possible to feel this?” He places my hand over his heart, pounding as fast as my own. “Every single time.”

I place my other hand over his heart and say, “It’s because we’re meant to be.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 26

Nina

When we arrive to the beach club, a hostess takes us immediately to a VIP cabana directly on the beach with plush cushions covering a huge bed, curtains for privacy, soft towels, and two glasses of champagne ready for us.

“What is this place?” I ask, looking around in awe. There’s food, drinks, music, a pool, and cabanas directly on the beach leading into the endless blue of the sea. “And why does it seem like a prerequisite to be here is to be rich?”

“Because it is, at least for this one,” Evren says. “To become a member, you have to be sponsored by three existing members to ensure a certain level of privacy for celebrities and people like me.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat or drink besides champagne?”

“Yeah, I’m starving.” I glance at his dick.

“Later,” he says, chuckling. There’s this lightness clinging to him that he normally doesn’t have when in Skyrise. It’s like he’s home. “How about I order us a mixture of food and cocktails?”

“Do you plan on spoiling me with good food and drinks?”

“Always.” He sneaks a kiss before using the phone to put our order in. For the next several hours, we soak in the sun, swim in the sea, and eat some amazing food. Thelahmacun, which is a Turkish-style pizza with minced meat on flatbread, is my favorite.

“It was my grandmother’s favorite, too,” he says, when I tell him that.

“Yeah?” I ask, taking another bite. “Was she a good cook, also?”

“Yeah, she was the best. Food is a big part of my culture, and being able to share the dishes I grew up eating? It’s like I’m able to introduce you to the people and places that have shaped me.”

“I love it.” I never thought of food like that before, like an introduction to someone’s past. All our shared meals together take on a new meaning and become even more special. “But if you love Turkish food so much, and if you have so many good memories associated with it, then why don’t you eat more of it?”

“It takes a long time to make.”

“News flash, but you’re a billionaire. It’s not like you’d be the one cooking it if you didn’t want to.”

He grins. “Does this mean I’m going to get a private chef?”

“Only if it makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.”

“I feel the same way,” I say. My phone rings and I glance at the screen. Mom. I direct her call to voicemail, but it rings again and again.

“Maybe you should answer it,” he says. “What if it’s important?”

“It’s not.”

“Is it your mom?”

“Yeah…”

My phone pings with an onslaught of messages. What the hell is going on? I open the messages and am surprised to find it’s from Elodie. She attached an article. When I click on it, there’s a clear photo. One of Evren and me smiling and holding hands over a table. It’s from the brunch place we went to right before we went to Lila Lark. On the top of the photo is the headline: Billionaire NFL Team Owner Dating a Woman Twenty Years Younger.

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