Page 53 of Billionaire's Fantasy
“Keep them. I want you to have them.”
After a few minutes of small talk, I commented on how we didn’t take many photos today. “We should definitely take some more tomorrow,” I suggest.
“Definitely,” Jackson agrees. “We can even hire a photographer to take some professional shots.”
I smile at the idea, feeling more relaxed as our conversation flows smoothly. Our meals arrive, and we both take a moment to admire the presentation before digging in. The salmon is perfectly cooked, and the roasted vegetables are a medley of flavors. His steak is juicy and tender, and he savors each bite.
As we finish our meals, the waiter brings out a dessert menu. Jackson suggests we split the chocolate lava cake, and I nod in agreement. As we wait for the dessert, we start talking about our plans for the next day, discussing which ski runs we want to tackle.
The chocolate lava cake arrives, and we both savor each bite, the warm chocolate oozing out of the center. I can feel myself getting lost in the moment, the romantic setting and delicious food make me feel giddy.
This feels a lot like a date.
“The food is really nice,” he says.
“Yes. I am glad we got to do this,” I say as I drag another forkful of cake to my mouth.
We eat in silence for a bit before he turns to me.
“You have something on your mouth,” he uses the fork in his hand to point to my lip. I pick up a napkin and try to clean it off.
“Did I get it?” I ask.
“No,” he chuckles. “Try a little higher.
I swipe again, the question in my eyes.
“Here,” he drops the fork on his plate and leans forward. He drags a thumb on the edge of my mouth, and I forget to breathe.
His blue eyes are completely locked with mine and I instinctively press my thighs together. He is giving me the exact look he would give me before his hands slipped beneath my clothes.
Is it me or did the temperatures just rise a whole lot?
“Did... uh—did you get it?” I stutter.
“Yes.” His voice is low and sinful.
Then he lifts the thumb to his mouth and sucks on it and I have no control over the wistful moan that escapes my mouth.
God! What the hell is wrong with me?
“I should head up,” I whisper.
“Do you want to?”
“Jackson…”
“I know I messed up, Amber. I know that. I should have never lied to you and if there was a way I could take it back, I would. But I can tell you right now, I won’t lie to you again.”
“Jackson, please…”
“Amber, I can’t take the thought of you hating me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I whisper.
“You don’t?” he asks, his eyes glimmering with hope.
“I don’t.”
