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She left the kitchen, and I pulled out my phone and quickly ordered another paperback copy of Lisa Gardner’s new book. It would arrive tomorrow, and I couldn’t wait to see Riley’s face when I gave it to her on Sunday.
She returned to the kitchen and sat down, her finger tracing the rim of her mug. “You have a beautiful home, Deacon. It’s very… comforting.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Why don’t I give you a tour?”
“I’d love that,” she said with genuine enthusiasm.
I took her around the bottom floor first. She’d seen the family room, but I pointed out the formal living room, the dining room, and my home gym. We walked upstairs, and I showed her the three guest rooms with attached baths before we passed by my office.
“I like your decorating style,” she said as I stopped in front of my bedroom.
“Thanks, but I can’t take any credit for it,” I said. “I have a good friend whose wife is an interior designer. She helped me nail down exactly what I was looking for and then executed it.”
“She did a great job,” Riley said, following me into my room. “Holy smokes.”
“You like?” I asked with a grin.
She stared at the large room with its king-sized bed, French doors leading to the balcony overlooking the forest behind my home, and gas fireplace with a cozy seating area.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice hushed. “It’s also bigger than my entire apartment.”
I laughed. “I overindulged with the primary bedroom, but I have no regrets. But you haven’t seen the best part yet.”
She followed me to the primary bathroom, a soft squeak of delight escaping her perfect lips when she saw it. “Oh my God!”
She pushed past me, stopping next to the soaker tub to stare happily at it. “Look at this tub! And the walk-in shower… are those multiple showerheads?”
“Yes,” I said.
She studied the tub. “I would spend hours in here.”
“I do,” I admitted.
“Gorgeous,” she murmured under her breath.
We returned to the bedroom, and she smiled at me. “Thank you for the tour. Your home is lovely, Deacon.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I said. “Are you hungry yet?”
She shook her head, her gaze slipping to my chest and then my dick before bouncing back to my face. “No.”
“Are you sure?” I stepped closer, backing her up until her legs hit the side of the bed. “I don’t want to be a terrible host and keep my guest hungry.”
I circled one nipple through her shirt, momentarily surprised to feel her bra before remembering this wasn’t a play session.
“Why do I get the feeling you want to feed me something that isn’t food?” she said with a tart smile.
I grinned at her. “Would you have any objections if I did?”
“Not one, Mr. Cross.”
I leaned down and brushed my mouth against hers. “That’s my good girl.”
She gripped my shirt, tugging me down again until our lips met. Her tongue flicked out against the seam of my mouth, and I parted them so she could explore. She tasted like sweet chocolate, and she made one of those soft moans I was so addicted to when I cupped her ass and pulled her against me.
I could deny it all I wanted, but I’d offered the tour and ended it with my bedroom for precisely this reason. I wanted Riley and didn’t care that I was breaking every agency and personal rule. It was worth it to have her sweet taste in my mouth.
You could text the sisters and set up a last-minute play session with Riley. They don’t have to know she’s already here. Then you’re not breaking any rules.
