Page 51 of Devoured By You
“Wow!” Jill spilled out of the golf cart and stared up at my house, a plantation-style white property with a wraparound porch, an infinity pool, and lush vegetation. I’d purchased it from a Hollywood producer that my cousin Roman, who headed up our film studios business, introduced me to. It had been in his family for two generations, but his new, far younger wife preferred Hawaii.
His loss, my gain.
“This whole thing is yours?”
I nodded. Compared to my Miami home, this was on the small side, but from the way Jill’s voice held a hint of incredulity, to her, it must have seemed enormous. I guessed it was an impressive-looking house. Historic.
She squinted at me. “You really are filthy rich, aren’t you?”
Snaking my arms around her waist, I pressed my forehead to hers. “I’m filthy rich, yes. Filthy in other ways, too.”
“Are your… do you… do you keep your toys here?” She kept her eyes on mine, but I could tell she wasn’t used to talking about such things, let alone using them in the bedroom, regardless of the joke she’d made at Miami Airport about her suitcase being full of vibrators. It surprised me that she’d remembered what I’d said, never mind bringing it up.
“A selection, yes.” I waited for Miguel to drop off our bags and depart. He’d return for us later today. The ship wouldn’t sail without me, but it wouldn’t be a good look for our late departure to be caused by the CEO of the company’s tardiness. “Are you curious?”
“Maybe.” Her voice wavered with uncertainty.
“Lunch first, then a swim, then we can… play. If you want to, that is. There’s no pressure or expectation. Especially if your sexual experiences lean toward vanilla.”
“Nothing wrong with vanilla.”
I grinned, running my gaze over her, lingering on the way her top showed off her cleavage. “Absolutely nothing. It’s delicious.” I took her hand and led her inside. Ten minutes later, after a tour, and a quick change into more suitable attire—for me—we emerged onto the porch where my housekeeper had set out our lunch. As instructed, she’d left immediately afterward. As discreet as my staff was, I wanted it to be just us.
Directly in front of the porch was the pool, sparkling in the sun, and beyond lay the golden sands and crystal-clear waters of the Caribbean Sea.
“See that path?” I pointed to a stone walkway that disappeared into green foliage.
Jill followed my gaze. “Yeah.”
“It leads down to the beach. If you like, after we’ve eaten, we can go down there. Or swim up here in the pool if you’d prefer.”
“Or both.”
“Ah, a woman who wants to experience it all.”
“Life is for living.” She sighed. “And I haven’t been doing very much of that before coming on this trip. I made a promise that I’d use this time to try new things, to make memories I hope will see me through the dark days ahead.”
A shadow crossed her face, one I yearned to erase permanently. “The book?”
Her chest rose and fell with another deep sigh. “The book.”
“Tell me something.” I reached across the table for a goat cheese and pesto canapé, eating it in two bites. “What happens if you return to England without figuring it out?”
She’d spoken about this on the plane, but I wanted to explore her fears in a more relaxed environment. Jill thought that one mistake would set her career on fire, but I didn’t believe a single mistake had the power to crush our livelihoods other than when actions involved a heinous criminal act. But simply struggling to meet an editing deadline with a publisher, no matter how cutthroat the industry was—I didn’t buy it.
“Erm, my publisher drops me.”
“And you have evidence of that? In writing?”
Squinting, she helped herself to a vegetarian bao bun. Taking a bite, she moaned. “These are delicious.”
My dick hardened. If she moaned like that again, I’d fuck her where she sat. “Answer the question.”
She licked her fingers, and this time, I moaned. “Are you trying to distract me from this line of questioning on purpose?”
A smile stole across her face. “Is it working?”
“Too fucking well.”