Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
I laugh.
And the chef who delivered the steak calls over his shoulder, “Can we have less talking about your vagina tonight?”
“My vagina has done things that your hands aren’t capable of. Ever birthed a human, Issac? Ever pushed a living being out of your body?”
My stomach lurches at the feeling of loss that sweeps over me. Am I going to be lumped in a pile with the chef? With all people who haven’t given birth and are somehow considered less because of that?
“Bev,” Joey says, pulling me out of my head. His tone is a warning. “Let’s keep the vagina talk to a minimum.” He nods in my direction.
I shrug. “I have a vagina too.”
“Right,” Bev says. “You got kids?”
I shake my head.
“Whether or not you’ve birthed a human, still means you’re as strong as fuck.”
I smile.
“Get that steak up to Room 325, Bev, and don’t start waving your vagina about in Mr. Black’s face, no matter how much you want to,” Joey says.
Everyone collapses into giggles, and Bev pushes the trolley out the door and in the direction of the lifts. I follow, as we’d previously agreed. I’m here to see how every department works—and every department seems to have some interaction with Mr. Black.
“You are going to die when you see this guy,” she says.
“I think I know the one you mean,” I reply.
“Oh yeah, you’ve been on reception. You’ve seen him, then?”
I nod. “I had to deliver towels to his room once.”
“Hot as fuck, right?”
“He’s very handsome,” I reply.
She laughs. “You’re so goddamn British. It’s cute.”
“It would be weird if I wasn’t British.”
“I guess.” The lift doors ping open, and when we get to Room 325, we line up the trolley and Bev knocks on the door.
Deacon opens and does a double take when he sees me.
“Room Service,” Bev says, in a much softer tone than she uses normally. “Where would you like it?”
Deacon’s eyes are all on me as Bev pushes the trolley past him and he holds the door open. I try not to look at him, but I can feel the weight of his stare. Bev is going to notice something if he doesn’t snap out of it. As I pass him in the corridor, he lets go of his bedroom door and his hand sweeps over my waist. It’s like he’s pure molten lava with the trail of heat he leaves.
Our eyes meet, and immediately heat pools between my thighs and my nipples tighten.
I want this guy.
I want him to be kissing me up against a wall.
I want his hands over my arse, his erection pressing into my stomach.
I’ve seen plenty of good-looking men in my time, but no one who’s ever made me feel this pull toward them. What is it? Something in the New York air? Or is it because I know how he can make women scream?
Bev pulls out the leaves of the trolley, turning it into a table, then takes the plate from the warmer underneath, placing it on the tablecloth. She then removes the cloche from the salad and places it back inside the warmer.
All I’ve managed to do is receive an eye fucking from Deacon Black.
I need to focus.
“Is there anything else we can get for you?” Bev asks.
Deacon manages to tear his stare away from me and look at Bev. “No, thank you.” He discreetly hands her a tip, and Bev nods and we head out.
Thank god he didn’t try to tip me. I might have punched him in the face.
And that would be a shame because his face is really pretty.
Bev leads the way and I start to follow. As I go, Deacon grabs my wrist. I snap my head back to him. Our eyes meet again.
His gaze is full of desire. Longing. Fire.
My eyelids flutter at his touch and I tug myself free and follow Bev.
I need to get some distance between us or I’m going to sink to my knees and beg for his cock.
Not tonight.
I glance around and he’s in the doorway, still watching me. I offer him a half smile before the door shuts.
THIRTEEN
Aurora
Every chance I get I walk the streets of the city. And with every step it feels like I’m becoming part of it. I love it far more than I thought I would. London is only a couple of hours from Woolton, but I never felt like it was my place. Whenever I visited London, I always went with Darcy who knew it extremely well. I always felt like her guest in the city. But getting to know New York on my own is unexpectedly fun.
Maybe it’s all the fantasies about Deacon Black I’m having. If I was a guy, I’m pretty sure I’d have a permanent hard-on at the moment. It’s definitely worse when I’m at the hotel, but this feeling of desire that Deacon has stoked in me is constant. I’ve never known anything like it.