The Scandal (Billionaire's Beach Book 4) - Christie Ridgway Page 0,61
tongue it only took seconds to send her spinning away into orgasm on another wild cry.
When she came back to herself, he was at her side, kissing her neck. He smelled like himself and like her, and it was wonderful, right, the two of them together. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she opened them to take in his gaze, the look on his face that of a starving man.
She smiled.
“That was one,” he said.
Tingling all over at the promise of more, she brushed his hair from his forehead and opened her mouth at the same time as he.
“I bought condoms,” they said together.
Chapter 11
Joaquin sat at the breakfast table set up on the sunny deck, sated in more ways than one. On his right, Essie frowned at her phone, but even that sign of unrest didn’t dampen his mood. On his left, Sara dabbed at her rosebud mouth with a napkin then cast a glance at his half-empty coffee cup. When she started to rise from her seat, he pressed on her shoulder and stood himself.
“I’ll get it,” he said, and strolled into the kitchen to retrieve the carafe.
She watched him walk. He could feel those incredible big blues on him, and he turned his head, catching her staring at his ass.
Her gaze jumped to his face, her eyes rounding.
He didn’t bother disguising his smirk.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t know she’d enjoyed herself the night before…enjoyed him. The feeling had gone both ways, of course. Under the starchy butler’s cool reserve was a hot wench who ignited him like a torch. His skin twitched at the thought. The tip of his cock was a little sore today, if he told the truth, the force of his ejaculations just that strong.
A very pleasing kind of hurt, though.
Crossing back to Sara, he topped off her coffee.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He ran a surreptitious finger along the nape of her neck in a light caress and watched her eyes close as her body gave a small, involuntary shiver.
He smiled full-on as he warmed up his own beverage. “Enjoyed the meal, doll,” he said, returning to his seat.
“Egg white omelet with leafy green vegetables,” she replied, prim. “Lots of kale.”
He winced. “I could have done without you spelling that out, you know.”
It was her turn to bestow on him a cheeky grin. “And whole grain toast.”
Picking up a leftover wedge from the napkin-lined basket, he slathered the still-warm piece with strawberry jam from a small pot, his gaze holding hers. Then he stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.
“With sugar-free preserves.”
Slumping in his chair, he scowled at her. “No sugar? Oh, come on.”
“All right.” Sara laughed. “I’m kidding.”
He liked her laughing. He liked her saucy attitude. Most of all he liked sharing a bed with her. They’d slept together after using a couple of the condom packets, and he’d woken up refreshed…though unfortunately alone.
The butler already about her duties.
He turned his attention westward. More people enjoyed the beach today than he’d seen previously. A couple of sunbathers. More than a few walkers who scattered the needle-nosed shorebirds playing in the surf. The sun dropped pieces of gold onto the ocean’s surface, and his gaze followed the water until reaching the smudged line where Pacific met sky.
His sense of well-being grew. The doctor who’d berated him for running himself down would see that Joaquin was a changed man. His assistant Patrick would finally be forced to shut his trap and swallow down the dire warnings he’d been known to dish out. In another couple of weeks when Joaquin returned to his downtown L.A. headquarters, he’d stick to normal hours and think about that hobby he’d promised Essie to establish.
I wonder what it takes to grow kale?
But between now and heading back to work there was, of course, the fifteenth anniversary of Felipe’s death to get through. Now, though, Joaquin wasn’t going to anticipate that event or let thoughts of it overshadow this glorious day.
No over-thinking the Sara situation either, he decided, sliding a glance at the butler. She stared out at the water, her expression serene, her reaction to how they’d scorched the sheets hidden behind it. On Joaquin’s end, he felt there was no point in second-guessing what they’d done.
The desire had been blatantly mutual—they’d both bought condoms!—and the usual concern over giving a woman the wrong impression didn’t apply. Early in their acquaintance they’d agreed on their distrust of love. Neither of them was into expecting promises or cementing attachments.