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“Kiss me,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
“Christ, Foster, you never give up,” I muttered, exasperated.
“One kiss is all I’m asking,” he coaxed, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.
Knowing he wouldn’t let me leave until I obliged, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. What started as a simple kiss quickly escalated as Foster wound his fingers into my hair, kissing me harder, more insistent. His tongue slipped past my lips, and I felt myself weakening, the familiar taste and feel of him overwhelming my senses.
I straddled him, my hands wrapping around his neck as I gave in to the moment. His muscles were tense beneath my touch, but as I stroked my fingers over his shoulders, I felt them relax. A soft moan escaped me as Foster’s hands roamed down my body, his fingers pushing up my skirt until they found the nearly bare skin of my ass.
The line between right and wrong blurred, and I found myself losing control.
“Fuck, a thong?” Foster mumbled against my lips, his voice rough with desire.
“Shut up and kiss me,” I whispered, pulling him closer.
“I want to do more than kiss you. Stay with me tonight,” he urged, his breath hot against my mouth.
I broke away, locking eyes with him. “I can’t.”
“Then spend the weekend with me,” he persisted. “We can visit my house in Montauk.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you have a house in Montauk? You just moved back.”
“I have homes all over the world,” he replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing.
“I’m not surprised,” I muttered, trying to mask the awe in my voice.
“If Montauk isn’t tempting enough, how about Rome?” he suggested, his tone teasing but serious.
I frowned, taken aback. “New York?”
“No, baby, Italy. We could leave Friday night and come back Sunday night. My plane has a bedroom. By the time we land, you’ll be fresh as a daisy and ready for your workday on Monday,” he said, his eyes gleaming with the promise of adventure.
“You seriously think I believe that? If I spend the weekend with you, we’ll do nothing but have sex, and that includes on the plane home,” I retorted, crossing my arms in a futile attempt to shield myself from his charm.
Foster’s knuckles brushed softly against my cheek. “I won’t lie, I want to make love to you, but only if it’s what you want.”
I moved off his lap, trying to put some distance between us. “I don’t know what I want.”
“Then go home, sweet Erika. Go home and think about what you want. I can give you the world. I want a future with you,” he said, his voice sincere, making my heart ache with the weight of his words.
“Thank you,” I murmured, standing up on shaky legs. Foster always weakened my will as well as my body.
“Do you want to take me up on my offer for a ride?” he asked, his tone softer now.
“I think that’s best,” I conceded, not trusting myself to say no.
Foster rose from the couch and followed me to the door, handing me my purse from the foyer table. I thought I was home free until he pressed his body against mine, pinning me to the door. His mouth found my neck, his lips hot and insistent as they moved to my ear. He licked around the shell, sending shivers down my spine. I was practically on fire, my resolve crumbling with every second.
“Call me with your decision,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear before he backed away, leaving me breathless and aching with the weight of a choice I wasn’t ready to make.
CHAPTER 25
Erika
Isipped my coffee, the bitter warmth doing little to chase away the cold knot in my stomach. Across the table, Morgan stared at me, her eyes sharp with disbelief.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she demanded, her voice rising as she leaned closer, practically spilling her mimosa.
