I trail my finger in a circle on his chest; why did I ask? Now this is probably going to make me sound lame. “Seven.”
A frown crosses his face. “Seven?”
I nod.
“Including me?”
I nod.
“Oh . . .” He pulls me close and I feel his smile as he kisses my forehead.
“What does ‘oh’ mean?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He shrugs. “Surprising, that’s all.”
“Why is it surprising?”
“I think I was at seven while I was in my teens.”
“That’s ’cause you’re a man whore.”
He chuckles. “Could have something to do with it.”
I lean up on my elbow so I can see his face. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-four.” He gives me a breathtaking smile as he reaches up and twists a piece of my hair as it curls. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven.”
He frowns.
“What?” I ask.
“So . . . you’re seven years younger than me, I’m the seventh person you slept with, and you’re twenty-seven?”
I smile goofily as he does the math.
“When is your birthday?” he asks.
“Seventeenth of July.”
“What?” He sits up against the headboard. “Bullshit.”
“I swear.”
“The seventeenth of the seventh?”
I laugh. “Aha.”
He stares at me and I watch as his frown turns into a slow, sexy smile.
“What?”
“Your number is seven.”
“What does that mean?”
“Seven is the number of the gods, it’s magical.”
“What, since when?” I smile. “How do you know that?”
“Numerology. Google it.”
I lie down on my back. “Well, I don’t feel very magical.”
He rolls over on top of me and holds my hands over my head. “I’ll be the judge of that.” His lips drop to my neck and he begins to nibble his way down my body.
“Numerology doesn’t refer to my vagina, Elliot.” I giggle softly.
He takes my nipple between his teeth. “Yes it does.”
The hired car pulls into the driveway and I peer out of the window at the house before us. It’s white and traditional, with a large wraparound veranda and beautiful well-kept gardens. The driver stops the car and gets out to unload the luggage from the trunk.
Elliot dips his head to look in. “It seems okay.”
“You’ve never been here before?” I ask.
“No, but a friend of Tristan’s has, he said it was nice.”
I smile and hunch my shoulders in excitement. “Anywhere will do. I don’t care if we go camping. Maybe next time we can?”
“Yeah, okay.” He chuckles as he opens the door. “My brother has told me all about camping, I’ll meet you there.”
I smile: that’s code for I’m never going camping.