“I don’t, comparatively speaking. Most of the time, I’m too busy for sex. But sometimes, I’m at some party PR makes me go to, but then sends a suit with me to make sure I leave soon and don’t say anything while I’m there. And that’s fine. That’s always been fine. You saw me at the meeting in New York. That’s how it is at those parties.”
“Okay. When do you get to the sex part?”
“There are women there,” he stumbled on. “And, well, usually actually, not that I’m at these parties much, but when I am and if I’m thinking about sex which, ah—”
“Get on with it.”
“Well, some woman usually comes up to me and asks me to have sex. I know you said nobody’s supposed to do that, but I’m pretty sure it’s happened to me most of the times I’ve actually had sex lately. Unless I just, er, suggest it myself, which goes over a lot better than it did with you, by the way.”
She neglected to mention to him the billionaire exception to not taking his approach, since it was the corollary to the rich-guys-can-have-whoever-they-want rule. In other words, in the right circumstances, a “Got sex?” approach works just fine for both parties; both come out ahead.
“What about before you got rich?”
“I don’t remember,” he hedged. “I only know I’m sure I’ve never had sex with the same woman more than once. Other than during the same sexual encounter.”
She couldn’t help smiling at the clarification.
“Do you really have seven siblings?” he asked.
“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about my family right now. I don’t want to think about them worrying about me.” Speaking of which. “We should get going.” She started to sit up and he pushed her down, coming on top of her.
“Not yet. Rest a little more.”
His cock, which had softened after sex, started to stretch and harden against her bare thigh.
“I don’t think rest is what you have in mind.”
He kissed her neck. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
But her lids felt so heavy, and he rolled onto his back again, the circle of his arms around her so warm and comforting she forgot they were in the middle of the woods and had to walk their way out. He ran his fingers through her hair slowly. “Rest for a little bit, Camilla.”
She lay next to him, humming softly.
She came awake slowly, not sure how long she had been out. The fire was still going, but Mason wasn’t beside her. Was that what had awoken her? He stood at the window, still naked, his back to her, and the sight of his lean muscles and firm ass awoke something in her that she thought he had already completely, wonderfully satisfied into near numbness. But the warmth between her thighs, her nipples hardening, proved she wasn’t above being greedy.
She stretched and he turned around, semi-erect, which made her smile. He smiled back at her, glancing down with a rueful shake of his head. “I was trying to let you sleep, but having you naked beside me was more than I could take, I’m afraid.”
He came over and sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting casually on her hip.
“How long was I out?” she asked, still feeling sleepy.
“Not long enough.” He urged her down. “You should rest a little bit more before we get started again. At this point, we should just wait till it’s dawn.” After retrieving the bomber jacket, he spread it on top of her, the soft sheep’s wool side of it down. It felt wonderfully cozy. “Were you cold?” he asked.
“A little.” She would just close her eyes for a second, since her legs still ached from all that walking and her bones felt tired. But then they had to get going. “Shouldn’t you rest, too?” she murmured.
Though she could barely hear it, she could feel the laughter rumbling through him as he leaned closer with a light kiss along her neck. “If I lay down next to you, Camilla, sleep is the last thing I’ll be getting.”
“Mmmm, but you must be tired.” Even now, she could feel herself being dragged back down…into the arms of Morpheus…until she registered something cold and alien on the mattress underneath her shoulder. She shot up. “What was that?”
He leaned over her to pick it up. “Just your pearls.” He dangled the single strand. “I brought them along. They must have come out of my jacket pocket when we were, uh…”
“Yeah. I’m sure they did.” She held out her hand. “You didn’t need to bring them. They’re not an heirloom or anything. I think I bought them at JC Penney.”