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“But it was a business deal back then,” he reminds.
“It’s not now. We can put the past behind us.”
I kiss his chin, and he takes my hand, leading me out to the elevators. His cell rings as we descend, but he ignores it, leaving the phone in his inner jacket pocket. It rings twice more before we get out to the limo where Peters is waiting. I am glad for it a cold wind blows through. The temperature feels closer to February weather than late April.
“Shouldn’t you answer that?”
“It’s probably nothing. I want to enjoy my wife.”
Enjoy me, he does. As soon as Peters pulls away from the curb, Foster lifts me onto his lap, kissing me silly. By the time the limo arrived at Savoureax, I am wet and wanting.
“Keep that up, and you might get lucky tonight,” I utter headily.
Foster’s eyes dilate. “Talk like that, and I’ll take you home right now.”
“I dare you.”
Peters opens the door and, without pause, the words, “Please take us home,” leave his mouth.
“I was kidding!” I squeal.
Foster strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Were you?”
He covers my mouth with his, thrusting his tongue inside. Our breath intermingles as our breathing picks up. I tangle my fingers deeper in Foster’s thick hair as he runs his hand down the front of my coat, fumbling with the large black buttons. Once he gets one open, he slips his hand in, searching for my breast.
“Oh God,” I mumble against his lips when he flicks his thumb over my nipple.
He breaks away, seeking my earlobe. While sucking, he mutters, “I hope you’re ready for me. I’ve been ready for you for months.”
“You have?” I whisper.
“Why would you doubt me? You’re beautiful and desirable.”
Overwhelmed, I hug him hard, burying my head in his neck. Foster’s scent fills my nose, a mix of sandalwood and laundry detergent. He holds me with the same intensity.
We can’t get into the penthouse fast enough. Because of the cameras in the hallway and elevator, he tightly holds my hand, and that is all. The minute the elevator doors open, he practically drags me out and pins me against the wall, devouring my mouth. My body explodes into heated desire, and I claw at his jacket, desperate and wanting to feel his nakedness against my own. After he shucks his coat and jacket to the floor, I work on the buttons of his shirt.
We leave a trail of clothes and shoes down the entire hallway to our bedroom. When Foster can’t get my ivory blouse open fast enough, he tears it apart, ripping the delicate fabric and sending buttons pinging against the floor.
“Hey, I liked this blouse!”
Foster sucks in his breath when he sees my white lace bra. “Fuck, so innocent.”
“I’m not innocent,” I protest.
He ignores me as he yanks off the rest of my shirt and buries his head between my breasts, slipping one hand under the right side to cup me.
“Ohhh,” I let out, moaning as he kneads my flesh. We barely get through the entrance of our bedroom when I reach between us to stroke his erection through his slacks. Foster is large, and I squeeze him, relishing the heat emanating through the cloth, causing him to hiss.
“Easy. It’s been a long time.”
“Since what?”
“Since sex. I told you I would be faithful.”
“What about jerking off?”
“It’s been a few days. Now stop distracting me.”
