Page 54 of Thiago
“We will not think about work for a few days,” Thiago added.
India smoothed her hands over his muscular biceps. “Is that really possible?”
“We can try,” Thiago said.
She desperately wanted to try, and a change of scenery would be nice.
She tugged his undershirt from his pants and slid her hand underneath to explore his hair-rough muscles. “I can’t wait,” she whispered.
“I cannot wait to make love to you in every corner of my penthouse,” Thiago said huskily. He removed his shirt and tossed it aside.
India lifted up so he could pull down her pants and panties. Seconds later, he was inside her, sliding into her aroused body with ease, his hands cradling her bottom as he thrust into her on top of the table.
As she barreled toward an orgasm, she knew meetings at this table would never be the same again. They would remind her of Thiago’s ragged breathing, his rough kisses, and the way his hands gripped her as he claimed her body with each demanding thrust.
Chapter Twenty-One
Thiago entered the plane’s cabin and settled on the soft, cream leather seat. He and India were flying to Brazil on the company jet, and he was early, so India hadn’t arrived yet.
They would first go to São Paulo, where the Santana International offices were located, and stay at his penthouse for a couple of days before flying to Rio de Janeiro on Friday after lunch.
“Mr. Santana, can I bring you a drink while you wait?” a pleasant-looking flight attendant asked.
“Not right now. I will have one when my colleague arrives—a Yamazaki 18, neat. You can start steeping the tea I requested. She should be here shortly.”
“Yes, sir.” The woman nodded briefly and then left him alone.
Spending more time with India, he had noticed she enjoyed drinking tea and had made note of the brand he saw at her apartment the other day—a blend of ginger, turmeric, peppermint, black pepper, and cinnamon.
He gazed idly out the window, thinking about the potential minefield their affair could set off. Being a female executivewho was sleeping with her boss could be problematic for India. If people found out, he could well imagine the rumor mill speculating about how long they’d been together and whether she had earned her current position on her back. Never mind that his father had promoted her to VP of marketing before Thiago took over as CEO.
So he’d made sure to arrange for her to have real work to perform in the São Paulo office, but he had also arranged for her to have time off. While he worked full days, her schedule consisted of half days, which meant time for sightseeing. In the evenings, they would spend time together, and he could show her some of the nightlife of the city.
São Paulo was known as the financial capital of Brazil and had a diverse population, which included Europeans, Arabs, and the largest concentration of ethnic Japanese outside Japan. In addition, there was an impressive culinary scene and plenty of museums.
India had seemed most interested in the art scene, so he’d recommended several museums. Her excitement for the trip had been palpable, and he’d felt gratified he was the reason for her pleasure, beyond making her toes curl and her thighs tremble as they clenched around him. Their relationship had certainly changed in the past few weeks. He had never hidden his relationships, but he was good at compartmentalizing. With India, the two worlds—business and personal—were bleeding together.
While they continued to meet in secret, they spent more time together and touched base much more often during the week, during which he had learned something shocking, which he teasingly told her almost made him want to break up with her. She believed oatmeal raisin cookies were superior to chocolate chip cookies. Appalled, he had threatened to end their relationship, to which she had put her foot down.
“You can’t change my mind,” she had said, an obstinate set to her mouth.
He promised if she ate his stepmother’s chocolate chip cookies with macadamia nuts, then he could change her opinion, and made a mental note to have Rose make some for her.
He shared more stories about his childhood, opening up to her in a way he hadn’t to other women, and after a particularly annoying business luncheon the other day, he’d called her on the way back to the office just to hear her voice. She had instantly calmed him.
The woman had even turned him into a texter! He had never been one to text much, using the option sparingly. But every day he found a new reason to send her a message.
I like that color green. It looks good against your skin.
I’m missing a cufflink. Did you happen to find it at your place?
He had also taught her Portuguese words in preparation for their trip:
“To say thank you, women sayobrigadaand men sayobrigado, regardless of the gender of the person they are speaking to. Informally, you can saybrigadão, which means thank you very much.”
They had also begun sharing weeknight meals more often. Several times they had dined out. One night he had Amir pick up dinner and bring it back to the office before he left for the day. If his assistant thought the bags contained a ridiculous amount of food for one person, he gave no indication.
After everyone had left, India came down the hall. Thiago locked his door, and they ate at the conference table. Then he fucked her against the wall, his blood running hot from her cries of passion, stifling the sounds with a hand over her mouth in case someone was in the office or had come back for somereason. Then they took a shower together in his bathroom, the first time they had ever shared such intimacy.
