Page 126 of Perfect Satisfaction

“I remember you saying that.” I smooth his hair back.

“I remember you doing that not long ago. In bed.”

I gasp. “You were awake?”

He gives me a look filled with such heat. That’s before he leans over and whispers, “Do you know you dream in your sleep?”

I blush, knowing who and what I dream of. Then I gasp. “Tell me I didn’t.”

He smirks. “Oh yeah.”

I swat at him. “You never said anything!”

He pulls my hand to his lips before swirling his tongue along the palm. “It was what gave me hope—a lifeline of communication between us. You let down your guard enough to let me in.”

“I’m not certain I ever really had a chance of holding out against you,” I confess.

“What you’re saying is I didn’t have to give up the money?” he teases.

I slide my hand down and wrap it around the tip of his cock. His eyes roll back in his head. “Let’s just say it got you here faster than if you hadn’t.”

“Right. Here’s good. Here’s... more. Give me my Moore.”

Without protest, I do.

CHAPTERSIXTY-FIVE

Things a true New Yorker does in the summer—leave.

Where they go depends entirely on how much money they have.

—StellaNova

“I want to take you somewhere.”

“And drop me off a cliff?” I joke.

He tightens his arm around my bare back before slapping my ass. “Not a chance.”

Propping myself up against his chest, I have a perfect view of memories of us yesterday shifting through his eyes. “Where?”

“You asked me about who was my biggest influence,” he hedges.

“Yes.” I cup his face. “Arek, what is it?”

“I think it’s time for you to find out how StellaNova started.” He rubs his beard thoughtfully.

“You mean it wasn’t by your father chasing some poor widow in high heels down the street, waiving a camera in the air?” Arek relayed a story last night that involved his father doing just that before being taken out by an old-fashioned New York City cab. He flipped headfirst over the door when the cabbie flung it open at the last minute.

I considered it just desserts.

“Not even close.” He reaches over and checks something on his phone. “Pack for a few days. It will be in the eighties during the day, sixties at night.”

I scramble out of bed. “Seriously? Can we move wherever it is?”

He gives me a curious look. “You like cold weather?”

“I revel in it.”