The Other Side of Greed (The Seven Sins #5) - Lily Zante Page 0,94

word escapes Kyra’s mouth, and her eyes widen with delight. “I don’t know what to say.” She throws her arms around my neck and kisses me.

“Don’t say anything,” I tell her. “Just enjoy it.”

KYRA

Fortuna Baths is the sort of place only a select few visit. I don’t know anyone who’s been here, but these places aren’t on my radar.

I’m surprised to see that it is empty, but then again, I could be wrong. The place is like a huge cave, with different rooms coming off the hallways.

Within minutes, a stunning modelesque looking woman greets us and tells us that she and her team will take good care of us. She ushers us into a changing room that looks so opulent and plush that I could happily just sit here all day and read a book. Then she tells us to get changed.

“Into what?” I look at Brad because I am completely unprepared for this.

“Relax,” he says, taking my hand.

“We have bikinis and swimsuits.” She opens the door to a closet, and what look like new items of clothing, hang inside covered with shiny wrap.

“Knock on the door when you’re ready,” she says, and discreetly leaves. I gape around the room, content just to stay in here.

“How about this?” says Brad, pulling out a bikini.

My face flushes. I should have prepped. “And what about you?”

“I’m going to put on a fluffy white robe.” He winks at me, then hooks a thumb over his shoulder at a door. “I’m next door. Get changed. I’ll see you in five.” He disappears through the adjoining door, leaving me staring at the clothes rack.

I get changed into the bikini he picked. It happens to be one I like. We both knock on the adjoining door at the same time, both wearing a fluffy white robe.

“Come on,” he takes my hand.”

“You’ve been here before.”

“A couple of times.”

We’re in a dimly lit room, inside which is a hot tub, only, it’s taller than a normal hot tub. The therapist tells us about the treatment which involves sinking into a tub filled with antioxidant, rich red grapes.

I’m not sure I like the sound of that.

“Trust me,” says Brad, slipping off his robe, to reveal swim shorts. The sight of those finely chiseled abs and that body with its perfectly defined ridges makes my heartbeat soar. Down to his swim shorts, Brad’s body is a vision straight out of a Calvin Klein ad.

Hot damn.

My skin prickles. He climbs in and watches me. I take off my robe, and feel suddenly self-conscious, even though he has seen me almost naked before. I rush to get into the tub. I’m slightly wary and dip into it slowly. It’s like sinking into a vat of warm honey in a hot tub except that we can’t see into it because the liquid is dark, but velvety and comforting.

Brad watches me the entire time.

The therapist places a small metal object on the aquamarine mosaic tiles. “I’ll leave this buzzer here. Press it if you need anything.”

“You orchestrated all of this just to get me into a bikini?” I ask him when she leaves.

He tilts his head, wearing a sexy grin. “It worked.”

It’s just as well we were submerged up to our necks in grape juice. I sit back, fighting the urge to step towards him because that would just end up with me kissing him again, and feeling as loose and as relaxed as I am now, I would have no qualms about things turning red hot in here.

“Feels good?” he asks, his dreamy voice making my eyelids fly open.

“You have no idea.” I lower my head. “You’ve given me two perfect days. Such glorious days, I’ll never forget them.”

“I wanted you to slow down and have a good time.”

“I had a good time from the moment you turned up at my door.” He steps towards me. One stride is all it takes, before he pulls me up to standing, our bodies warm and wet as our hands tangle around one another, and our mouths sink together.

I feel his boner before his tongue welcomes mine. In the warm, dimly lit room, with our guards down, our bodies relaxed, I press against him, my hands reaching over his shorts, then inside. He’s so hard, I have the urge to want him now. He moans against me each time I stroke him, his member engorging in my fingers. Each time I stroke his silky tip, he shudders. The excitement is off-the-chart crazy; a reminder of our