“Either is fine.” She wiggled to move his hand up her back. “But I prefer just Victoria.” Minus the beautiful, coming from you, bucko. “So, speaking of articles, do you happen to keep a blog?”
He tilted his head to the side and gazed down at her. Really, he was an attractive guy, with those big dark eyes. But he did absolutely nothing for her. Gay? Perhaps. Gay enough to call himself a gossip girl? Doubtful. “Yes.”
Yes? Oh, yes, to a blog. “What’s it called?” She was blatantly questioning him, but after all, he did that to other people all the time, so he shouldn’t mind.
His hands were sweaty on her back. He cleared his throat. “I collect Alfa Romeos–the cars? It’s a blog about restoring them, and interviews with other collectors, that sort of thing. It’s called Romeo Shop. And that’s rom-ay-oh, not Romeo, as in Juliet.”
Not at all what she’d expected. And a bit macho for a gossip girl. “Oh.”
“Probably not your line of interest, huh?” He snickered and shifted his hands to a new spot. God, where was Britt? “Speaking of interest, though. I attended the anal class today. My God. You really outdid yourself. In fact, I intend to write a special-interest article on it. By the time they left that class, every man there was an Ass Master.”
Oh, boy. He was excited. She could tell, not just by his breathing, but by the front of him smashed against the front of her.
“I’m, uh, glad you enjoyed it.” Was he still going for abstinence? If so, all the better for her. Everything he’d see, everything he’d write about, would seem that much sexier if he was pent-up.
“Victoria.” He said her name slowly and with emphasis. “I’d really like to visit Fantasy Mountain and do a write-up, something like I’m doing for this cruise. I could shadow you and–”
“Mind if I cut back in, old chap?” Britt, thank God.
Mick smiled and bowed. Didn’t stand up entirely straight as he walked away. Good Lord. If he didn’t take care of himself soon, the guy would end up coming in his pants while writing some report.
“He enjoyed the anal class,” she told Britt when his arms were back around her. “A lot.”
“Mm. It’s getting rave reviews all round. Vic, love. Are you sure you feel all right? You look a bit peaked. Coming down with something? Something that might require you to return to your suite and lie down?”
She loved him for more reasons than one. “Yes, I do feel a bit under the weather. We should probably call it an evening.”
On the elevator ride up, she clasped his hand in hers. “Do you think he’ll be there? In the suite?”
He squeezed her hand. “If he’s like any normal red-blooded American chap, he’s probably been sitting there for hours, with one hand in his pants.”
“Lovely picture you paint,” she muttered.
He bent and caught her lips between his. “Enjoy this, Vic. Don’t be afraid to do whatever you like, all right?”
Heart racing, check. Butterflies in stomach, check. Superwet panties ready to drip down the leg, check.
His hand slid inside the back of her dress again and clutched her ass a little tighter than he had on the floor. Leaving his mark? Britt never acted insecure, but he definitely had enough good ol’ testosterone to make sure everyone was clear about things. His lips moved from hers, down to her neck, where he nipped with his teeth. Definitely leaving a mark. And she was okay with that.
With a faint chime, the elevator stopped and the doors whooshed open.
Only a few steps to their suite.
Britt keyed in their code and swung open the door.
Had David returned to the scene of the invite?
Chapter 11
The TV was on. Victoria released her breath.
David slouched on the sofa, his bare feet on the coffee table, with only one lamp burning in the corner.
Behind her, Britt shut the door, and David immediately stood, turning the TV off on his way up. “Hey,” he said, straightening his shirt and smoothing his shorts.
“Hi.”
Britt said, “Hello yourself. Did you get some dinner and a swim?”
“Yes. Thanks.” David fidgeted.
Silence.
Britt cleared his throat, but then said nothing, his warm hand reassuring at the small of her back.
Awkward.
“Um. So maybe we should…go out to the hot tub?” she suggested. “To talk?”
Britt nodded beside her. “Not a bad idea–”
David shook his head. “If you don’t mind, I want to take that dress off you. Later.” He rubbed a thumb over his eyebrow. “You look really hot in it.”
Oh. Well, that just made her heart race all over again. “Then I guess we’ll just talk here.”