Page 6 of Burning for the Billionaire 8

“Not so fast. You can’t put on something this sexy and not expect me to touch,” he says before swooping down to capture my lips with his.

Instantly, I open up for his thorough exploration. The fire between us ignites and quickly reaches a full blaze, and I’m relieved. We haven’t indulged in each other like this in weeks. We’ve both been too distracted and caught up in what’s happening around us. I was worried the explosive chemistry between us had dwindled, but now I see I was being silly.

He pulls me closer, his hold on me tightening. Soon, I feel his palm slide over my ass and down to my bare thigh. The way his tongue teases me makes me moan because now I’m thinking about his skilled tongue on other parts of my body. Just when I think we’re about to forget about dinner and head to the bedroom, he pulls away... with obvious reluctance.

“Dinner,” he says with a smile. “I almost forgot.”

“I don’t mind a delay.” Although, I already set the table and put everything outside.

He takes my hand and gives me a twirl, checking me out some more in the dress. “The temptation... but I want to make sure we’re okay.”

I consider. “Me too. We can pick up where we left off later.”

His eyes flare with desire again. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Still holding my hand, he leads me to the balcony. It faces the apartment complex’s backyard, and it’s dark outside, so we should have privacy.

The night is balmy, perfect for a romantic dinner. And I went all out setting the scene, too. The glass table is set like any five-star restaurant’s, with multiple dishes—all of Rowan’s favorites—hidden by metal food covers.

“Wow, this looks great.” He looks down at his jeans and T-shirt. “Am I underdressed?”

“You’re perfect. I only put on this outfit because we haven’t gotten dressed up to go out in a while. I figured you might be tired of seeing me in shorts and ratty tank tops. I’m giving your poor eyes a break.”

He chuckles, pulling out a chair for me. “Nonsense. You look gorgeous in anything.”

My lips twist into a wry smile. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t gone on a proper date in a while. After—”

I press a finger to his lips. “I’m going to need you to stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault. I’m fine not going out. I love being here with you, in private.”

He searches my face. “Okay.”

When I sit, he kisses my forehead. “Thanks for this. I love it.”

I beam, satisfied that, as experienced as he is, I’m the first woman who’s ever done anything like this with him. Instead of sitting across from me, he rearranges the plates and utensils and pulls his chair closer to mine. My smile brightens.

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