“Gideon … we have something amazing together. It’s worth the effort to make us rock solid in every way.”
I shook my head. It pissed me off that I was feeling anxious. It was a loss of control and I couldn’t have that with her. It wasn’t what she needed.
Leaning forward, I put my lips to her ear. “Angel, if you’re not missing the feel of my cock inside you, I need to step it up, not hold back.”
Her shiver made me smile inwardly. Still, she whispered, “Please try. For me.”
“Fuck.” I dropped back into my seat. As much as I wanted to say no to her, I couldn’t. Not even about this. “Damn it.”
“Don’t be mad. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important to try. And it’s such a short time.”
“Eva, five minutes would be a short amount of time. You’re talking weeks.”
“Baby …” She laughed softly. “You’re pouting. It’s so adorable.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to my cheek. “And really flattering. Thank you.”
My gaze narrowed. “I’m not agreeing to make this easy for you.”
She trailed her fingers down my tie. “Of course not. We’ll try to make it fun. A challenge. See who breaks first.”
“Me,” I muttered. “I’ve got no fucking incentive to win this.”
“How about me? Wrapped up in a bow—and nothing else—as your birthday present?”
I scowled. Nothing was capable of making this more palatable. Even the thought of her bursting out of a cake naked couldn’t make this better. “What does my birthday have to do with anything?”
Eva dazzled me with her smile, which only made me want her more. She was sunlight and warmth at any time, but when she was beneath me, writhing in pleasure and moaning for harder … deeper …
“That’s when we’re getting married.”
It took a second for that to sink into my lust-addled brain. “I didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t either, until today. On my last break, I went online, trying to see if there was anything happening in September or October that I should consider when setting a date. Since we’re getting married on the beach, we don’t want it to be too cold, so we’ve got to get it done this month or next.”
“Thank God for winter,” I grumbled.
“Fiend. Anyway … I got a Google alert about you—”
“You’re still doing that?”
“—and there was a post about us on this fan site. There was—”
“Fan site?”
“Yep. There are whole sites and blogs dedicated to you. What you’re wearing, who you’re dating, events you’re attending.”
“Jesus.”
“The one I went to had all your stats: height, weight, eye color, birth date … everything. To be honest, it freaked me out a little that some total stranger knew other details about you that I don’t, which is another reason why I think we need to date each other and talk more—”
“I can recite stats while we’re fucking. Problem solved.”
Her grin was delighted. “You slay me. Anyway, having the wedding on your birthday is a good idea, don’t you think? You’ll never forget our anniversary.”
“Our wedding anniversary is August eleventh,” I reminded her dryly.
“We’ll have two to celebrate.” She ran her hand through my hair, tripping my pulse. “Or better yet, we’ll celebrate straight through from one to the other.”
August 11 through September 22—a full month and a half. The thought of that was almost enough to make the next few weeks bearable.