Page 37 of Draco's Defiance

She smiled, satiated by the thought. She liked the protection he offered, and enjoyed the fact that, for the first time, she’d met a man who was interested in her pleasure.

“Well, that sounds good.” His arms tightened around her. “I’ll take it.”

“You should.” Her eyes fluttered open as she peered around at his handsome face, and there was no doubt about it, Draco was gorgeous. His heart-shaped face presented a man with rugged and open features. The dark blond stubble at his chin stretched to his high cheekbones and as her gaze rose, she took in the light in his striking blue gaze. How had she ever got so lucky to have met and bedded a man of such magnetism, wealth, and experience? “I mean it.”

“So, what now?” He tugged her closer, skimming his lips over her cheek.

“What do you mean?”

She hoped he meant he wanted them to see each other again, or that he shared the sentiment ballooning in her chest, but she couldn’t be sure, and she dared not say so.

“I mean, what comes next?” The now-familiar mischievous glint shone in his eyes. “Do you want to run me through your findings on the contract and go home, or would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Dinner?” The last thing that had been on her mind was food, but inevitably Draco had a way of making everything sound outrageously appealing.

“Yes.” He pressed his lips together. “You know, the meal that generally comes at the end of the day?”

“Yes, I know dinner, Draco.” She’d definitely intended to use his name that time. “I just wasn’t sure if you’d like me to stay or not.”

“Well, now you know.” His breath was warm at her nape. “You’re invited.”

Thank goodness! She couldn’t control the way her pulse quickened. Draco was never supposed to be more than a brief sexual dalliance and the possibility of a private client’s fee, but the more time she spent with him, the more she realized he had the potential to be so much more than that.

“I’d love to have dinner with you, thank you.” Resting her head against his chest, she could hardly believe her sense of tranquility in his presence. Moira was used to her own company, and rarely found anyone she could maintain a peaceful quiet with. Draco was unique in a surprising number of ways. “But you’re right, we should really go over the contract first.”

“Not a problem. I appreciate you taking the time.”

“You’re welcome.” Knowing it was for the new blond in her life, she’d enjoyed every minute of the work. “That’s my job.”

“And I’m lucky to have you.” He paused, allowing the sentiment to wash over her. “Would you like your coffee now?”

“My what?”

Glancing past his body, her attention shifted to the coffee table at his side, and the array of cups and cutlery sat beside the contemporary coffee pot.

When had he put that lot together?

She couldn’t recall it being there earlier. The table would have been in the way when he’d spanked and fucked her, but surely, she’d have noticed if he’d have gotten up and gone to the kitchen to prepare the drinks? The muscles at the apex of her thighs clenched as she contemplated the question.

Maybe not. Maybe I’d been in such a stupor that I just don’t remember.

“Your coffee?” His voice was sympathetic despite its growing smug tone. “I asked you if you wanted one, if you recall?”

“Yeah, I...” Shaking her head, she straightened and snuggled the blanket tighter around her as perturbed, she grappled with her lack of recollection. “I really don’t.”

“Don’t worry.” Easing himself upright, he reached for the pot and poured the steaming black liquid into one of the matching cups. “You were a little dazed.”

“I’m sorry.” She sensed herself flushing as he chuckled.

“Don’t be,” he assured her. “There are worse things than being so satiated that you lose track of time.”

He can say that again.

“Would you like a cup?” Lifting it toward her, he glanced back to the table. “I have milk and cream if you don’t want it black.”

“Black is perfect, thank you.” She reached for the cup, her fingertips brushing his when he passed it to her. “I really must have been out of it if I didn’t hear you—”

Moira never finished her sentence, the clamor of Draco’s phone splintering her line of logical thought.