Promise Me Forever: Manhattan Ruthless
: Chapter 28

“Ithink you’ve broken me,” I say, rolling onto my back and opening my arms wide. She scooches into them, her head on my chest, her soft laughter muffled against my skin. Her hair is draped across me, and I absentmindedly pick up a long strand. It’s dark and straight and looks a little like a rope.

“I’m not sure I have,” she says, nudging me with her thigh. “There’s already movement down here—surely you can’t be ready to go again. I mean, I know you have an amazing work ethic, but really?”

I slap her ass hard enough to make her squeal, and that sound, along with the image of using her hair to tie knots with, does indeed go straight to my cock. He’s ready to go, but I’m not sure my heart is. I’ve gotten so much cardio over the last twenty-four hours that I might as well cancel my gym membership.

“This isn’t work, Amelia. This is the best sex in the whole fucking world.”

“You think?” She looks up at me and shrugs. “I suppose it’s been okay …”

I hoist her over my lap and slap her butt a few more times. I don’t go easy on her, and her skin is bright red after only a couple of whacks. She’s wriggling around and crying out, telling me to stop in between moans as she grinds herself on my thigh. When I finally let her up again, her hazel eyes are shining and her nipples are like pebbles. She glares at me, and I laugh.

“You liked that, huh?”

Her eyes blow wide. “No. Why would you think I liked it?”

Without a word, I run my hand up her silky-smooth inner thigh and slide a finger inside her. As I suspected, she’s soaking wet. I pull my finger out and make her lick it clean.

“That,” I say, watching her intently, “is how I know you liked it.”

Her answering blush is absolutely adorable. We’ve been naked together since I first got her into this bed, and we’ve made each other come so many times I’ve lost count. Yet she is still so easily embarrassed. The big advantage of her being inexperienced is that I get to teach her so many new things.

“I kind of did, and that weirds me out,” she says, biting on her plump lower lip. “Am I some kind of masochist? Will I be joining a sex club and needing a safe word next?”

I laugh and pull her back in for a cuddle. Jesus fuck. I’m not only cuddling, I’m loving every second of it. She really has broken me.

Or maybe, I think, she’s fixed me.

“Not unless you want to, baby,” I say, kissing her head. “In which case, yeah, of course. I happen to know a few places.”

“I bet you do. You’re the kind of man that knows places.”

She sounds a little forlorn, and I tilt her chin up so she’s looking me in the eyes. I want her to see me when I say this. “Amelia, I have a past. Like you say, I know places. But please don’t let any of that make you feel worth less than you are.”

“What am I worth?”

“Right now?” I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Absolutely fucking everything.”

Her smile reaches her eyes, and I realize I’m telling the absolute truth. I would pay a million bucks just to see that look on her face. She strokes my chest, tracing the shape of my pecs and grinning. My girl is insatiable, and I love that about her.

“Okay, so I have to talk to you about something,” she says, and my stomach knots.

I hate conversations that start like that. “Go for it.”

“Who was your mystery date?”

My mystery date? What is she talking about? She looks up at me, disappointed at my silence. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she adds, though her tone implies it very much isn’t.

“Baby, I’m happy to talk about it, but I genuinely don’t have a clue who you’re referring to.”

She leans up on one arm, and her breasts beg me for attention. No. I need to concentrate. Amelia is an amazing woman, but she’s still a woman, and I recognize a conversational minefield when I stumble into one. One false move and my nutsack could get blown off.

“The night of the team-building thing at the hotel.”

I grin at her. “The night you got shit-faced with half of accounting and danced to Salt-N-Pepa on a pool table?”

“Yeah, that night. The same night you went out on a date. I’m asking you to tell me about it, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine.” The way she says “fine” implies the exact opposite.

I cast my mind back to that particular day and grin when the lightbulb moment happens. “Oh! Right. That wasn’t a date. That was Sapphire.” She frowns and doesn’t seem at all satisfied with my answer. “Sapphire is a friend, nothing more.”

“But when you left, Nathan said to have a good date.”

“Uh, first of all, creepy, but second, he was just joking. Sapphire was his friend first, from college, and he always jokes that I stole his date. She really is just a friend, baby.”

As much as I hate her doubting herself and doubting me, I like the fact that she’s jealous. Compared to how I reacted when she went out for a meal with the asshole from accounting, she’s downright restrained.

“I saw a picture of you with her online,” she says, looking uncomfortable. “I wasn’t stalking you or anything. Well, maybe a little. But you were with her after some premiere on Broadway, and she was all over you.”

I press a kiss on her forehead. “I get my picture taken a lot, Amelia, you know that. I don’t especially enjoy it, but it’s part of my work and part of my life. And believe me when I tell you I wasn’t going out on a date that night. All I could think about was you. Plus, I am very much not Sapphire’s type.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. I mean, look at you—you’re a walking sex god.”

Her eyes rake over my body, and I enjoy the appreciation. “Thanks for that, but I’m definitely not Sapphire’s type. You see, I don’t have a vagina, and she likes vaginas. A lot.”

I laugh as Amelia’s eyes pop open and her hand flies up to cover her gaping mouth. “Oh! So Sapphire’s a lesbian? Is she single? Because she’s exactly my friend Kimmy’s type.”

“Is Kimmy a fan of vaginas too?”

“Kimmy’s a fan of everything. She’s great fun, you’ll love her.”

This is going to be one of those complicated situations we’ll have to navigate. If we’re keeping this a secret, can we meet each other’s friends and family? Can we exist in each other’s lives? I want nothing more than to show her off, to have her at my side every minute of every day, but how does that fit with maintaining discretion? I have no clue, but I have even less intention of dragging us both down right now. I finally got the woman into bed, and the only time I plan to let her out of it today is for food. She needs to keep her strength up.

As if she read my mind, she says, “You want to go get something to eat?”

“I don’t really want to leave this bed, but much as I’m willing to try, man cannot live by pussy alone.” Again, she blushes. No less adorable than last time.

“Don’t you have to leave soon, though?” she asks. I frown because I haven’t said anything at all about leaving. “I assumed you have work to do.”

Right. Of course she did. And yeah, there’s always something that needs doing. But I regularly put in hundred-hour or more weeks, so it won’t kill me to take a weekend. “I thought I’d spend the day with my secretary instead. She’s a sex maniac.”

“She is? You lucky man. Okay, so we’ll go out for food. Can you guess where I want to take you? What I want you to taste?”

I close my eyes and groan. I certainly can.

“Mario’s exploding donut balls!” she yells, bouncing up and down on the mattress. It makes her gorgeous tits do some interesting things, and I grab hold of her and pull her onto my lap.

“All right, all right. But first, I need to make something else explode.”