The Spaniard's Pleasurable Vengeance. Lucy Monroe
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ultimate pleasure.
Randi reached up with arms like noodles to clasp his shoulders, needing even more connection than the ultimate joining of their bodies. “I...you...”
He kissed her, cutting off whatever she’d been about to say. She kissed him back, reveling in the press of soft lips against soft lips while he was still inside her.
No other moment in her life had been so perfect.
* * *
Later, after he’d taken care of the condom and cleaned up in the en suite, Baz ran a bath in the jetted tub.
Randi lounged in the bed, feeling decadent surrounded by luxury linens and the sound of running water. She heard him on the phone, too, but couldn’t make out his words.
When he returned to the bedroom, she asked if he had to leave.
He leaned against the doorjamb, gloriously naked, unashamed by what others might consider vulnerability. “Why would you think that?”
“You were on the phone.” For men like him and Andreas, a phone call, whatever the time, often precipitated the need for some kind of action on their part.
Billionaires were busy people, or so she’d learned since her sister and Kayla’s new husband came into Randi’s life.
“I called housekeeping and asked for a box of condoms to be delivered. Then I called room service and ordered champagne and strawberries.” Baz let his lips tilt in an enigmatic half smile. “It seemed appropriate.”
Who ordered condoms to their room? “Lavish.”
“And do you not deserve lavish?” he asked in what should have been a tease, but something in his gaze probed hers with serious intent.
“It’s not my norm, that’s for sure.” She wasn’t the one with a super-rich husband catering to her every need.
That was her sister, and Randi loved the way Andreas took such pains to care for Kayla, but Randi refused to let her brother-in-law subsidize her living expenses, so she made do on what she considered a generous salary from the shelter. Though it hardly stretched to the kind of luxury Baz seemed to take for granted.
He shifted away from the door, his big body moving with surprising elegance, despite his lack of clothing. “I will enjoy spoiling you.”
And she would probably enjoy being spoiled. Too much. Too easy to get used to the attention, but as long as she never forgot it was temporary, she might actually survive with her heart intact.
“You’re not like any other man I know.” She sat up. Letting the bedclothes fall away from her body, she reminded herself that he’d already seen everything she might try to hide and had seemed to like it very much.
His gaze ran over her with more heat than she would expect so soon after what they’d just finished. “Men like me are a rare breed.”
“You so are.”
His smile was lethal as he leaned down to pull her from the bed. “Come on. I have a mind to share a lavish bath with you.”
“A bath is a bath.”
Minutes later as she sat in the steaming, scented bathtub, water made ultra-soft with oils, a plate of chocolate-dipped strawberries within reach, two glasses of champagne perched on the tub’s lip, Randi had reason to retract her own statement.
“Okay, this is definitely sumptuous.”
“You think?” Baz had donned the complimentary robe to receive both the delivery from housekeeping and room service.
“I do, yes.”
He dropped the robe and stepped toward her, once again magnificently naked. “You look like a nymph in that swirling water.”
“Not hardly.” Randi had a mirror, and sea nymph, she was not.
“Do not ruin my fantasy with your sense of the prosaic.”
“I would not have considered you a fantasy kind of guy.”
“We all have dreams.”
“I suppose.”
“Don’t you have dreams, aspirations, desires?”
“I learned five years ago that life doesn’t dole out the fulfillment of dreams equally to everybody.” After all, she’d been on the cusp of engagement with her boyfriend, enrolled at her top choice university and surrounded by friends and a family who loved her. She’d come to terms with having a wholly narcissistic mom with tendencies toward violence when thwarted, and Randi had been, for a time, really happy.
His attention sharpened, his expression assessing. “What happened five years ago?”
“My world imploded.”
“You cannot make such a statement and not explain.”
She shook her head. “Some things are too painful for the consumption of strangers.”
“Are we still strangers?” His expression turned carnal. “I would say we have enjoyed some very intimate moments.”
“We’ve been intimate with our bodies,” she emphasized. “Emotions and memories are another thing entirely.” A man with his experience couldn’t believe anything else, could he?
Baz climbed into the hot water with her, muscular limbs sliding against hers, accentuating the lack of barrier between them. Renewed desire sent a flush over her body, more acute than that brought on by the hot water.
His hand traveled up Randi’s leg from her ankle, stopping at the top of her inner thigh. “Let’s get a little more physically intimate, then, shall we?”
“Yes.” Relief that he was not pushing for answers about something she hadn’t meant to mention mixed with sensual delight as his hand moved against her inner thigh.
His fingertips rubbed against her most intimate flesh, making her languid with need.
He tugged her unresisting body closer. “Come here, mi hermosa.”
She let herself be pulled into him and maneuvered so she was facing away from him, leaning against the bulging muscles of his body. There was something so sexy about being in his arms in the water, her back to him, his hands on her. The message going to her sexual brain was that he was focused on her pleasure. And her pleasure alone.
Maybe she should feel bad, should do something to balance the focus, but she didn’t. This whole night, so far, felt too good, too different from anything she’d ever known.
His hands moved up her body, caressing her hips, her torso and finally settling to cup her breasts, touching already sensitized nipples, sending thrills of bliss through her.
Lips brushed behind her ear. “You are addictive, cariña.”
“The way you make me feel could easily become a necessary habit.” And wasn’t that terrifying? Because he wasn’t sticking around.
No way could he.
Not Mr. Spanish Billionaire Businessman.
“Good to hear.” He nibbled against her neck, sending shivers throughout her body.
“You think so?” Was he really blind to how bad that could be for her?
“Don’t you?” he asked against her skin, before tugging ever so gently on her earlobe with his teeth.
She convulsed with a new set of shivers. “Not so much, no.”
His laugh was unexpected, husky and warm. “You are very refreshing, Miranda.”
“I guess that is a good thing.”
He made a noncommittal sound. Maybe he’d miss refreshing. Maybe addictive was just as bad for his long-term peace of mind as hers.
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