Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Someone honked, drawing my attention back to the drive just as we took the lower level of the bridge to New Jersey. I flipped my sunglasses onto the top of my head because it was so dim underneath.
“Until Sunday for what? To see me in a bikini?”
“Not just a bikini, baby. To see you hot and wet, coming out of the ocean like my very own wet dream.”
“That was a terrible pun,” she giggled.
“Yeah, but true.”
“So…you’re taking me to the ocean?”
I nodded and popped my shades back down onto my nose as we exited into the sunshine. “I rented a villa on the beach in St. Maarten.”
“Really?” Dakota sat up straight and clasped her hands to her chest. “I know it's not all that far from here, but I’ve never been anywhere tropical.”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, baby,” I told her as I reached out for her hand again. She placed it in mine with a giant smile. “But we have one stop to make first.”
On the way to Teterboro Airport, we’d pass several shopping centers, so I’d asked Skye to find the perfect one to outfit my woman for our trip. I parked in a spot near the front and ordered Dakota to sit tight. Then I got out and loped around to her side of the car to open her door and help her out.
“We need bathing suits,” I told her with a grin. “Your mom told me you only had—and I quote—‘Boring and outdated bathing suits that don’t show off nearly enough of her assets.’ So we’re going to get us some new stuff.”
“Ames,” Dakota hissed when she saw which store I was headed for. She tugged on my hand, and I stopped, turning to look at her. “This is Marie Grace! I can’t afford to buy anything there!”
I rolled my eyes and gently tugged to get her moving again. “You don’t buy shit when you’re with me, Dakota,” I told her firmly.
“But—”
“No, Dakota. I take care of what’s mine. And you are mine.” I opened the big glass door and patted her ass to get her to walk in ahead of me. “Now, don’t argue, baby, just let me spoil you.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” She glanced around with a doubtful expression, but I saw the spark of excitement in her deep-brown eyes. “I still don’t think—”
I yanked her toward me, knocking her off balance so she fell against my body. Dropping my head low, I muttered, “No.” Then I kissed her until her body relaxed, and she was pliant in my arms. When I released her lips, I smirked at the dazed expression on her face while silently telling my dick to forget about her shiny, kiss-swollen lips until we were inside our villa….or at least on the private jet.
“Ready?” I asked softly.
“Uh-huh.”
An hour later, I put four big shopping bags in the trunk, then helped Dakota into the passenger seat. I’d bought everything she tried on because I couldn’t decide. We wouldn’t use it all on this vacation, but it was simply motivation to book the next one. Plus, I’d added some things from the intimate section when she was picking out sandals and wraps.
Jeremy, a billionaire friend of mine who I’d met through Rigby, lent us his private jet and pilot, so I drove to the hangar where they waited for us. After unloading all of our stuff, I handed the keys to a valet.
I’d brought an empty suitcase in anticipation of shopping, so once we boarded, I took everything to the bedroom at the back of the plane. I set all of our stuff on the bed, planning to pack it after takeoff, but when I walked out of the room, a flight attendant came over with a smile. “Go ahead and get ready for takeoff, Mr. Yarrow. You and your wife can relax for the flight. After the pilot gives the all clear, we’ll pack everything and make sure it’s ready for transport to the villa when we land.”
“Thank you,” I replied with a nod, not bothering to correct her assumption.
Dakota sat by a window, holding a bottle of water and a chocolate chip cookie. She flashed an amused smile at me as I took the seat next to her. “I don’t suppose this is your jet?” she teased. “Because I could get used to this.” She gestured to the table of drinks and snacks in front of us, then snuggled down into the plush, leather seat.
I chuckled and shook my head as I buckled up. “Nope. But you can mention how much you want a plane to Lennox during my next salary negotiation.” I winked, and she tossed her head back, her musical laughter filling the small space, making warmth spread through my chest.
Damn, this was a fan-fucking-tastic idea.