Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I swallow roughly. “But your employees. You said they’re like family.”
“They are. And fortunately, I don’t have to do all the work. I have amazing people I work with. Incredible people I’ve hired. They’re going to finish the deal in London. I don’t ever want to let you get away again. You mean the world to me.” Then, he smiles hopefully. “I’m yours if you’ll have me.”
I’m in shock. But I’m in heaven too. My skin is buzzing. My heart is jumping for joy. “You’re mine? For real?”
“No, Gunnar,” he says. “We are ours.”
Sounds pretty fucking good to me.
I kiss the hell out of this man who flew to Costa Rica to bring me a bathing suit . . . and himself.
Nothing matters more in the whole damn world than this chance at love and happiness. Rafe came into my life one random night at a dance club, and he was everything I never knew I needed.
I never want to let him go.
When we break the kiss, I’m lust drunk, and lovestruck, and my brother is standing nearby, punching the sky.
I laugh, then I scowl at Charlie. “Did you have something to do with this?”
“I sure did,” Charlie crows.
Rafe cuts in. “I contacted your brother and he told me where to find you. There are a lot of beaches in Costa Rica and I would have trekked across all of them, but I wanted to find you as fast as I could.”
“I had a feeling you’d be good with me telling him your longitude and latitude,” Charlie says with a smile.
I smile at the two of them, so damn grateful. “I am good with it. I am so good with it.” I turn back to Rafe. “And I am so good with you.”
He presses his forehead to mine and stays like that, breathing in and out, leaning against me for long seconds that I never want to end.
Then he whispers, “I don’t want to intrude on a family vacation.”
“Oh babes, intrude all you want. You’re not slipping away from me now.”
“Can I stay with you at least one night?”
“You can stay with me as long as you want.” I step back to look into his eyes as an idea takes hold. A dirty, delicious one. “They’re surfing tomorrow, and my contract forbids it so I have an entire day all by myself.”
His eyes flicker with heat. Rafe runs the tip of his tongue along his teeth. “I know what we can do with a day.”
EPILOGUE
DIRTY DREAMS COME TRUE
Rafe
I clear the lower deck of the yacht. I tell the crew we’re going to need some privacy for the next hour. They’re discreet, and they vanish.
That’s the kind of service worth paying a premium for.
As the sun shines overhead, I go down the steps of the opulent one-hundred-twenty-foot yacht bobbing gently in clear blue waters.
Gunnar and I make our way to a table by the railing and the bottle of champagne there. I open it, pour two flutes, then hand one to the man who waited for me. Who showed me his heart and his truth. “To the man I love taking me back,” I say.
Gunnar smiles in pure Gunnar style—flirty and cocky. I want to keep making him smile like that forever. “To my man coming for me,” he says, then clinks his glass to mine and takes a drink.
I swallow some bubbly, then set the glass on the table. He does the same. I glance at the railing, the ocean beyond. “What do you think of the view?”
He flashes a cheeky grin. “Ask me in five minutes when you’re balls deep in me.”
I laugh, happy and aroused.
In the distance, other yachts and boats cruise by, but none close enough to see, even with a long-range lens. But the idea someone could is enough for Gunnar. Still, I want to reassure him completely. “People will know we’re together now. But I’ll always find ways to protect you. Like I did the night of the party. Even if anyone tries to guess that was you in the photo from before, they can’t ever know. I made sure of it then.”
He squares his shoulders. “I’m not worried anymore. You protected me then. I know you’ll protect me now—now that you’re my man.”
“I am,” I say, then I slide my thumb along his mouth. “Is this your fantasy?”
He shrugs lazily. “Sort of.”
I laugh. “How do I get from ‘sort of’ to ‘yes, fucking yes, oh God, fucking yes’?”
He runs a hand down my chest. “Get your shorts off and fuck me as we sail across the ocean.”
Easiest order ever.
I shove off his bathing suit, then reach between his legs, wrapping a hand around his shaft. My eyes float closed at the delicious feel of him.
He groans. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
After a few delirious minutes of stroking him, I say, “It’ll feel better like this . . .”