Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Hungry, Little Tiger?” I asked, now amused.
Her eyes flew open, the blue bright in the light coming in from the large window behind my desk.
I strolled forward, sitting in front of her. “Are you in need of sustenance?” I asked with a smile.
“I’m hungry, yes,” she replied, taking another bite of apple.
Grinning, I took the fruit from her hand, taking a large bite and chewing. She looked displeased that I had taken her snack, and I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “Tell me what you want to eat. I can get you anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything,” I assured her. The kitchen was open twenty-four seven. Any time the guests were hungry, they were served. The buffet in the casino never closed. It shocked me how much food people consumed between midnight and morning.
She bit her lip, hesitating. “Tell me,” I demanded.
“I want a chicken sandwich with tomatoes and bacon. On sourdough bread with mayo and salt and pepper. And crispy French fries.” She paused. “With a cola.”
“Anything else?” I asked, my amusement complete.
“Would the chicken be real or packaged?”
“We don’t serve anything packaged here.”
“Oh,” she breathed out. “May I have pickles too?”
I stood, taking her with me. “It’ll be here soon.” After sitting her on the sofa, I went to my desk and picked up the phone. If the chef was shocked at my ordering food at two a.m., he hid it well. I repeated Effie’s order, adding a sandwich for myself and a thermos of coffee. I hung up and studied her across the room. She was looking anywhere but at me, gnawing on the apple, the cheese now gone.
I opened my arms. “Come here, Little Tiger.”
She crossed the room, and I pulled her to my lap, wrapping my arms around her. She sighed, resting her head on my shoulder. I relaxed with her so close and took the apple from her, finishing it in three large bites.
“Always tell me what you want,” I said in a low voice. “Everywhere. When you’re hungry. When you need something. What you like in bed. What you want me to do to you.”
I felt the heat of her blush on my skin.
“Does that embarrass you, Effie? Thinking about being in bed with me? Telling me what you like?”
“No.” Her eyes remained downcast, and she traced a design on my chest with her finger. “I, ah, liked everything you did earlier.”
I chuckled. “Are you sore?”
She paused. “No.”
I tilted up her chin. “You are a terrible liar. Your tells are so obvious, it’s like a blinking road sign. Don’t lie to me. If you’re shy, tell me, and I’ll explain something. If you want something and don’t know how to ask, show me.” I grinned widely. “Like when you pulled my hair and pushed my face into your sweet—”
She covered my mouth. “Okay, I got it.”
I laughed, kissing her palm, then pulled her hand away. “We’ll eat, and you can have a bath if you want.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“People have baths in the middle of the night too. It’ll help you feel better in the morning. You can sleep in too.”
“What about you?”
I leaned my forehead to hers, confessing. “I rarely sleep well, Effie. But beside you, a few hours rejuvenates me. I sleep better than I can recall doing for years.”
“Why?” she asked, sliding her hand to my neck, stroking the skin.
“I have no idea. The same way you calm me when you’re close. It’s just you.”
A knock startled us. We’d been so deep in conversation, so attuned to the other person, neither of us heard the elevator. I stood, putting her on her feet. “Go to the bedroom. I’ll bring in the food.”
She didn’t argue.
We sat cross-legged on the bed, the tray between us. Effie was voracious. She attacked her sandwich as if she’d never seen food before. The mayo and tomato juice hit her chin, and she wiped it away with a carefree smile, continuing to eat.
I bit into my sandwich, enjoying the fresh ingredients and taste. I chewed slowly, simply enjoying watching her eat. She sipped her cola, wrinkling her nose at the bubbles. The French fries were liberally salted and dragged through the ketchup she’d squirted on the plate.
“If I had known that you eat this way after sex, I would have fucked you sooner,” I said dryly. “I’ve been struggling to get a few mouthfuls into you every day.”
She paused, some of the light fading from her eyes. “Is that what we did? Is that all it was?”
I slid my fingers under her chin, shaking my head. “No.”
The light returned. “I am hungry,” she mused. “Usually, I would just have some crackers and go back to bed.”
“You can have anything you want, any time you want.” I bit and chewed, swallowing. “Do you often get up in the night?”