he never hid how happy he was to come home to me. He showed how he felt with his sweet kisses and frantic touches.
But it was the first time he’d said the words.
And, God, they’d sounded so good.
Danger, danger, danger.
_______________
Maybe I should’ve napped.
After lunch, we’d changed paths so Marco could show me more of the resort—minus an area he’d said was off-limit. The tour had ended with the absolute best ice cream of my life before Marco had dropped me back at the room to get ready.
Eyeing the bed with longing, I forced myself to touch up my makeup—and my deodorant. I pulled my hair into the high ponytail Maximo loved, even though it would display the marks on my neck.
Or maybe because it would display them.
I stripped before putting on the gray bodysuit. The minimal fabric was soft, as was the lace. It gave the illusion of a corset without the organ rearranging and lack of breathing. I tugged on some dark wash skinny jeans that clung like a second skin and a slouchy sweater that fell off one shoulder, showing a hint of the lingerie strap.
A tease.
I put on a pair of gray suede ankle booties and hoped whatever Maximo had planned, it wouldn’t involve a ton of walking. Otherwise, there was a good chance my feet and I would die.
Grabbing my cell off the bedside table, I went into the living room to wait.
I had three waiting texts from Maximo.
Maximo: I keep thinking about how fucking hot you looked riding me last night, little dove. It’s making it hard to focus on anything else.
Maximo: I hope you’re having fun but being a good girl.
That one sent a tingle through me.
Maximo: Juliet, a phone is useless if you don’t carry it with you. What if there was an emergency?
That one sent a different kind of tingle through me.
Maximo hadn’t seemed happy. And when Maximo was unhappy, it made him spanky.
I squirmed from both the phantom sensation of a burning ass and the heavy dose of lust that went through me.
There were a few dings before the elevator slid open. Maximo stepped out, looking like a model on a runway. Even after a long day out, his suit was crisp and perfect, as though it didn’t dare wrinkle.
Stalking toward me, he was a hunter and I was his prey.
His very willing prey.
Cupping my head, he took my mouth with a desperation that said it’d been centuries since we’d last been together and not hours. His tongue thrust in and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
When he pulled away, I was breathing heavy as I asked, “What was that for?”
“Told you I missed you. I liked knowing you were here.”
I couldn’t hold back my grin, not that I tried hard. “I missed you, too.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Christ, you make me insane.”
The words themselves may not have sounded good, but the intense way he’d said them did.
Releasing his hold, he stepped away and ditched his suit jacket before rolling his sleeves. “Did you decide on dinner?”
“Does the Asian restaurant have sushi?”
“Yes. Do you like sushi?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea, I’ve never had it.”
“Let’s find out.”
_______________
As it turned out, I did like sushi. Just not the raw stuff.
Never the raw stuff.
Chang’e—named after the Chinese goddess of the moon, of course—was a Pan-Asian restaurant with an extensive fusion and dim sum menu. Contrary to my assumption that it would be casual, it was incredibly trendy and upscale. I was way underdressed, not that anyone would comment since I was with Maximo.
Maximo had ordered us an assortment of mostly delicious food—the uncooked spring rolls were almost as gross as the raw sushi.
It was obvious I wouldn’t be going on a raw food diet in the future.
“What’s the plan?” I asked when we finished eating.
“You’ll see.” Maximo checked his watch before standing and dropping a fold of cash onto the table.
Leaving the restaurant, we made our way across the main floor. When we reached the table gaming area, my attention caught on someone walking to one of the tables, a stack of chips in his hand. He sat and arranged them in front of him.
My steps slowed, and Maximo tilted his head to look down at me.
“I know that guy,” I whispered.
“Who?”
I jerked my head subtly in the direction. “Gray shirt, bald head.”
“How?”
“He came to visit Shamus a few times.”
“Friend?”
“Not unless kicking his ass is a new way to express friendship. If so, Shamus was the most popular man