she said. “And savoring the most romantic date I’ve ever had.”
She glanced up at him and batted her eyelashes, and he laughed. “I’m surprised fish-and-chips on the banks of the Yarra followed by a short cruise impresses you so much.”
“Why?”
“You live in LA. I imagine you’ve been wooed by pricey dinners on Rodeo Drive or strolls along Santa Monica Pier or hitting the hottest Beverly Hills nightspots.”
She made a pfft sound. “I don’t need flashy.”
He stared at her with clear intent in his gaze. “What do you need?”
Heat shot through her, setting her alight. How did he do that with a single glance?
“You,” she murmured, reaching up to draw his head toward her. “I need you.”
His lips grazed hers in an all-too-brief kiss, a kiss of promise, a kiss of what was to come.
A subtle clearing of the gondolier’s throat had them easing apart with regret.
“I’ve loved every minute of tonight, but are you ready to head back to my place?”
His wicked grin was all the answer she needed.
He glanced over his shoulder at the gondolier. “Can we head back now please?”
“Sure thing, mate.”
Samira smiled. She’d never been to Venice, but she imagined the gondoliers on the Grand Canal didn’t call anyone “mate.” Thankfully, the guy had powerful arms, and he dropped them off at their pick-up spot in seven minutes; seven long minutes of being all too aware of Rory’s subtle citrus scent, the press of his thigh against hers, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on the top of her arm. She snuggled into the nook of his arm tighter, craving contact, barely able to contain how badly she wanted him. She could blame her horniness on pregnancy hormones, but she’d been this hot for him since their first night together.
Sensing her urgency as he helped her from the boat, he leaned down to murmur in her ear, “You’re driving me crazy too, sweetheart.”
“Let’s go,” she said, taking his hand and all but breaking into a jog.
He laughed and picked up the pace. Once again, neither of them spoke as they reached her building, and she didn’t mind. Anticipation thrummed between them, making her blood fizz and heating her from the inside out.
As they stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut, she muttered, “Wish this stupid thing didn’t have cameras.”
“What would you do if it didn’t?”
He pulled her in front of him and slid his arms around her waist, pressing his rigid erection into her, making her mouth go dry.
“I’d push you up against the wall, unzip you, and go down on you.”
He made an odd choking sound a second before the elevator stopped and the doors slid open.
“You’re killing me,” he said, matching her brisk steps as they reached her apartment and she slid the card through the slot with an unsteady hand.
“Yeah, but what a way to go.”
As the door closed, she pushed him up against it and slammed her mouth onto his. Their teeth bumped a little, and their noses squished, but she didn’t care, and by his low, appreciative groan, he didn’t either.
He had this way of using his tongue that made kissing him the most sensual experience in the world, and as he slid his hands under her skirt and tugged her panties down, she never wanted this to end.
He gripped her ass and hoisted her high, spinning around so he had her pinned to the door. She wriggled, craving closer contact, and he obliged by unzipping. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she gasped as he slid into her with one smooth thrust. Filling her. Completing her.
“So good,” she whispered against the side of his mouth, and he responded by withdrawing slowly, inch by infinitesimal inch, before plunging back in. Repeating it over and over until she was mindless and clinging to him and clawing at the edges of an orgasm to end all orgasms.
“Rory . . . oh . . . yeah . . .” Every muscle in her body tensed as he drove into her, hard and fast, so freaking hot.
His mouth claimed hers again a moment before she climaxed on a loud cry, the pleasure so intense it brought tears to her eyes.
They’d had some phenomenal sex in their time together, but nothing like this, and as he lowered her slightly and she unwrapped her legs from around his waist, the tears in her eyes threatened to spill out.
“Fuck, are you crying?”
He cupped her face between his hands and brushed under her eyes with his thumbs. “Did I