揑抦 surprised Drew isn抰 hosting some magnificent gala on a yacht or flying you all to a private island somewhere.?
He grins. 揝he is, but I抎 prefer to spend it with you.?
He抯 missing out on a night with his friends because I抦 the asshole who won抰 go to HR. I refuse to feel guilty about that. He抯 never even invited me into his home. I tip my chin up to look at him. 揧ou know where we could go? Your place.?
揑t抯 a disaster,?he says, though he could have built an entirely new house in the amount of time it抯 taken. 揌ow about one night? We抣l go somewhere nearby for New Year抯 Eve and come back the next morning. Catalina, maybe.?
My breath stutters. Kyle booked us a room on Catalina Island for my twenty-third birthday. We抎 already chosen a ring by then桰 assumed he was going to propose and spent money I didn抰 have on a new dress. Then Josie flaked out, as always, and he canceled. I抎 seen so little of my friends by then that going out with them wasn抰 even an option. I spent my birthday sitting in my apartment alone.
揑抦 not really a fan of Catalina,?I reply.
His tongue glides along his bottom lip for a moment, observing me, as if he knows there抯 more here. I抦 scared he抯 going to ask for details, and the time is coming when he will. Eventually he抣l push a little harder to know what happened at Stadler and why I抦 prickly about so many things. 揑抣l figure something out,?he says, and I抦 so relieved I don抰 even argue.
We leave work on Saturday just after lunch and drive up the coast to a cottage in Santa Barbara. A porter unlocks the door for us, and while Ben sees him out, I just卻tare. I抎 expected he抎 choose something nice?king-sized bed, room service梑ut this is another level entirely. It抯 got two rooms, both with French-glass doors that open wide to a terrace larger than my apartment. A fire blazes in the hearth already, several bottles of wine waiting for us on the mantel. I step outside, passing a pergola to my left, and go to the railing, staring out at the Pacific, ethereal in the distance.
揑t抯 where John and Jackie Kennedy spent their honeymoon,?Ben says, walking up behind me and pulling my back to his chest. 揑t seemed like the kind of thing you抎 like.?
I can抰 put into words how much I love it, so naturally I don抰 admit it all.
揑t抯 less terrible than I anticipated,?I say with a grin.
He swoops me up, throwing me over his shoulder as he starts to carry me inside. 揂dmit it抯 the coolest overnight trip you抳e ever taken.?
揟op twenty this year, for sure,?I reply, laughing as he throws me down on the bed. I try to crab crawl away from him and he grabs my ankles, pulling me back down the mattress.
揋emma,?he says, pinning me with ease, 搘e both know I can force you to admit anything I want.?
I抦 breathless, eager. 揅oerced confessions are inadmissible.?
His finger trails down my sternum and over my stomach. 揂h, but we抮e not in court, are we??
He pulls my t-shirt overhead, then tugs my jeans to the floor in one long pull. I squirm in anticipation. I love how determined he gets when I won抰 give him what he wants.
揑 slept in an ice hotel once in Sweden,?I tell him as he grabs his shirt by the neck and pulls it overhead. 揟hat was amazing.?
He stops suddenly. His eyes narrow, his nostrils flare?and he reaches for his belt.
My breathing grows uneven as he grabs my wrists in one hand and wraps the belt around them, securing it to the headboard. He抯 held my wrists overhead before梐lways just before he comes, when his restraint is nearly gone. There抯 something desperate in his face in those moments, as if a part of him he won抰 acknowledge just wants to make sure I stay.
Goose bumps crawl over my skin as his hot breath grazes a nipple. His fingers slide over my panties but don抰 venture inside them. My skin starts to heat everywhere. Having no control梟o way to push him to do what I want, no way to stop him梙as my heart beating hard. The ache between my thighs is unbearable.
His fingers continue to torture me, and when I try to arch my hips for more contact, his free hand pins me in place.
揊ine,?I gasp. 揑t抯 cool. It抯 the coolest place I抳e ever stayed.?
His teeth skim over my skin. 揃etter than the ice hotel??
揟he ice hotel sucked,?I tell him. 揑 was so cold.?
He laughs. 揑抎 have fucked you even if you hadn抰 admitted it.?
I smile. 揇oes that mean you抮e going to untie my wrists??
He pushes my thighs apart and slides lower on the bed. 揘o, Gemma. Not a chance.?
Good.
Later, we curl up on the terrace with a bottle of wine, watching the sun set over the Channel Islands in the distance.
揇id you come here, growing up??I ask. 揑 mean, not this hotel, but the area??