Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
A dollop on his nose.
The taste of his skin under the cocoa.
The way he smiles as I lick it off.
This is perfect.
Everything else surrounding it is complicated. But, hey, I'm in Rome with my fiancé, nibbling gourmet chocolate.
That's good.
That's really fucking good.
After three bars, we call it a day.
Marcus walks us to the door. Hands us gold giftbags filled with cocoa treats. Truffles, soaps, lotions, bars, nibs.
He shakes my hand. Shep's.
Then he looks at Shep knowingly. Like he's offering approval. "You're a lucky man."
Shep turns to me. Smiles like he's madly in love with me. "The luckiest."
I shake my head. Try to find something original. Settle on— "I'm the lucky one."
Diablo and Marcus share a look.
They whisper something. Diablo shakes our hands. Then he nods a goodbye and returns to the factory.
Marcus leans a little closer. Close enough to whisper. "I'm sure you have a lot you'd like to see in Rome. I won't take over your trip. But I do insist on one thing." He pulls something from his pocket. A small red envelope with a gold bow. "Trust me. You'll be glad you did."
I take the envelope. Go to open it.
But Marcus stops me. "Don't let him see it. Make it a surprise." He winks at me. Then he takes a step backward. "Enjoy the wedding. And the honeymoon. I hope everything after will be… peaceful."
What the hell does that mean?
Marcus smiles, turns on his heel, disappears in the building.
I move away from the door, then I open the envelope.
Shep smiles. "Impatient."
"I'm allowed to see it." I hold it to my chest. "You're the one who's supposed to wait."
The crease in his forehead softens. The frustration in his eyes fades. He's feeling better. More present. "You're making me wait?"
I nod.
His voice drops. "You are going to make me wait."
Ahem. "Yes."
"Is that a dare, princess?"
"Yes," I bluff. No. Not at all. I don't want to wait. I want to jump into his arms and have him right here, in the middle of this quaint cobblestone street.
Well, maybe not the middle.
More against the building.
Him pinning me to the wall as I—
"You won't last five minutes." He brings his hands to my hips. Pulls my body into his. "Besides." His lips find my ear. "I know what's in the envelope."
"Oh?"
"He's done this before."
"You've brought other—"
"To men I know. And a few women." He runs his fingertips along my chin. Then down my neck. Over my collarbone. "It's a gift certificate to La Perla."
"Oh."
"If you want to be generous, you can say he's—"
"Big-hearted?"
He nods. Brings his lips to my neck. A soft kiss. It's tender. Gentle even.
Then it's harder.
Still tender but with a raw need beneath it.
"If you want to be cynical, you can say he gets off on knowing he's in our bedroom." Shep kisses me a little harder. "Or you can take my stance."
"Yeah?"
"I don't care about his motives if I can fuck you senseless in the dressing room."
"Oh."
"Princess?"
Oh. That's an actual invitation. I nod.
His smile gets wicked. That smile that means you have no idea what I'm going to do to you.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jasmine
The store is unassuming.
Yes, the expensive garments are gorgeous. But the place looks like any upscale lingerie shop in Manhattan.
Slick robes in black.
Lace bras with floral print.
Panties with mesh butterflies.
An impossibly tiny thong that looks as expensive as it is.
Functional bodysuits in beige, tan, black.
A garter belt with a several-hundred-dollar price tag.
It's like something out of an old movie. Completely unnecessary for the weather here—it's far too warm and sunny for thigh highs—but still inviting.
A secret sex appeal. Something that hides under good girl clothes.
I guess that's everything here. No one will know I'm wearing a sheer black bra and panty set under my simple sundress.
They're even the same color.
They're our secret.
Or they will be.
Shep whispers a command. "Pick out anything you want. Go to the dressing room. Change into it. And wait." His lips brush my neck. Then he pulls away. Goes to the saleswoman. Smiles as he slides something into her palm.
Enough cash for her to look the other way?
Or just the gift card from Marcus?
I ask myself if it matters. If her presence makes a difference either way. Do I want her listening? Do I want her gone?
The truth is, I don't care.
As long as I have him, I don't care who else is in the shop.
This is our dirty secret.
I try to take my time. To make him wait as I pore over every available garment. But this is an expensive shop. There are only so many options.
There.
That's perfect.
I take my new attire into the dressing room. Slowly, I strip out of my sundress and my more reasonably priced bra and panty set.
This isn't my usual thing. It doesn't even make sense with my wedding dress.
But it feels right, donning sheer white lace.
This thing that screams innocent, virgin bride. I haven't been innocent in a long time. But I still want him corrupting me.