Page 127 of The Sweetest Return

I looked good.

Better than twenty-two in ways twenty-two would not have known how to value.

Grown and desired before Dre even put his hands on me.

My bra went into my purse.

I picked up my panties, stared at them for half a second, then stuffed them in with my bra.

Why bother?

I already knew my pussy was on the menu.

The thought should have embarrassed me.

It did not.

I tightened the robe, lifted my chin, and opened the bathroom door.

Dre was near the windows with his phone in his hand.

His head lifted when I came out.

Whatever polite thing had been on his face disappeared before he could save it.

“That robe big as hell on you,” he said.

“It has a job.”

His eyes moved over me once.

Slow enough to touch.

“Doing it?”

“Barely.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, but he did not make the joke. His restraint warmed the air.

“I’m gonna shower.”

“You should.”

He passed close enough for his scent to brush over me, then disappeared into the bathroom.

I let out the breath I had been holding.

Food arrived while he was inside. Two attendants rolled carts into the suite, arranged everything across the dining table, and left with the kind of quiet efficiency that made the room feel even more expensive after they were gone. Lamb. Warm bread. Butter. Garlic. Rosemary. Something sweet waiting under a silver cover.

My stomach responded.

So did everything else.

Dre came back out in a matching white robe.

His chest showed where the robe opened. Water still darkened the edge of his beard, and the diamond chain was back at his throat, bright against all that deep-brown skin. Apparently, the man showered and put his diamonds right back on.

Of course he did.