Page 59 of Take Hold of Me

She cuffs my shoulder. “I might need a certain blond bodyguard to check it out to make sure no one has planted a bug or something. Then, maybe, I can convince him to make sure the bed is safe too.”

A giggle that I swear has a French accent grabs me by the balls. How can I resist a playful Angel? I’m a mere mortal. “I don’t know how safe your bed would be with me in it.”

“I cannot wait to find out.”

When we arrive at her house, I retrieve the luggage and follow her up the stone walkway. Halfway to the door, she bends down and smells a white flower. “I missed my hydrangeas. I love having a garden.”

Inside her house, I drop my duffel on the floor and wheel her bag into her bedroom. So much happened between us since I was last here, only days ago. A noise behind me makes me turn.

Crossing the threshold, she says, “I need to change and then I will be ready to go to the Agency. Thank you for agreeing to come with me.”

“Only if you agree to come for me later.”

Pink stains her cheeks as a giggle escapes her lips. “You know I will.”

Maybe a kiss for the road? I stride across the room and take her in my arms. “Here’s a little taste.”

I dip my head and meet her willing lips, my hands resting at her waist. I pull her to my body and explore her mouth with my tongue, delighting in her low moan when I peel my lips from hers and trail them down her neck. I better stop now or I won’t stop at all. Still holding our hips together—I appreciate her model’s height—I force my head away from hers.

I whisper, “Ems, what you do to me.”

“Not as much as you do to me,” she whispers back.

“What do you need for your meeting?”

Her eyes open. “I should change into something less casual. Makes me feel stronger when I go into the office.”

I nod. “Is that the sort of advice you give on Instagram or Wear Your Win?”

Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth. “Oui.”

“Then you know it’s the right thing.” I tap her ass. “Let’s get you changed.” I should let her do it in private, but I’m not about to miss a floor show. She takes a couple of steps, appearing a bit wobbly, before becoming more surefooted. The fact that I made her wobbly strokes my ego.

Hangers slide across a bar. Flip, flip, flip. In her huge walk-in closet—which boasts a marble-topped island, several lighted shelves of shoes and purses, plus single and double rods of clothes—Ems selects her outfit. Damn. How did I not notice this monstrosity of a closet before? It’s bigger than the apartment I just rented.

She holds up a blue dress. “What do you think of this one?”

I shrug. “Looks nice.”

She grimaces, puts it back onto the rack and flips through more clothes. Selecting another dress—grey this time—she puts it in front of her body. “How about this?”

It’s a dress. I shrug. “That one’s good, too.”

She sighs and walks over to the island, opening and closing the drawers. I’m afraid to peer in to see what all she has in there. A black bra and panties land on the top.

The zip from her jeans brings my attention back to her. She stands before me in just her bra and panties, her arms curling behind her to remove the bra. I whistle.

The pink on her cheeks deepens. “I need to change. Everything.” With practiced movements, she’s soon naked in front of me.

My eyes rake her from top to bottom as my mouth goes dry. The pile of underwear on top of her island catches my eye and I make a mad grab for them. Fisting the lingerie in my hand, I crook my finger at her. “Come here.”

She walks around the island and stands in front of me, a small smile tickling her lips.

“I much prefer to be taking you out of these than putting you into them. However, we can’t have you meeting with the Agency in your birthday suit.”

She giggles. “No. Not a good idea.”

I pull the two pieces apart and hold up her panties. “Black lace. I hope you chose them for me and not Price.”

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