The soft sway of her hips compelled me to look her and I halted everything with a flick of my fingers. Lars, my Irish trainer, paused as he checked where my gaze had landed.

Lars simply grunted, knowing full well how seductive Stella looked as she came towards me; hips swaying and face clear of makeup with a short, silk dress on. She looked every bit the luscious woman and I realized just then that I wanted to sample her sweet tasting lips again.

“Hi,” Stella shyly greeted me, blushing, eyes all on me with one thought in mind; lust. She might’ve greeted me shyly, but there was nothing shy about how she looked at me now. She hungered for me. Blatantly.

“Hello, my sweet.” I grinned, coming out of the ropes and hopping to the ground, standing before her. “Missed me?”

I saw her contemplate the question. I knew she missed me. It was written all over her. All I wanted was confirmation, for her to say the words out loud.

“A lot,” she whispered, unwavering. “I missed you quite a bit.”

My self-restraint dissolved immediately. Like a hormonal teenage boy, I pulled her against me and kissed her as if she was the air I breathed.

From the background, my ears perked up when I heard the glass door close with a soft thud. Lars took his cue and left me with my enchantress. “I’m taking you out on a date.”

“Really?” she panted, taking my lips again as her arms encircled my neck before she spontaneously hopped and jumped onto my hips, locking her legs around me while her hands cupped my face, kissing me with pure, unadulterated hunger.

My hands cupped her bottom, squeezing it as I did so, matching her passion with abandonment. “Christ, you’re so gorgeous.”

Stella started to rub up against me. The heat from her pussy felt wonderful against my stomach. “Fuck me in the ring, Cal,” she pleaded, voice packed with desire.

Hell. It was the first thought that had popped into my brain the second she wafted through the doors, looking the way she did. She looked like the first bloom of spring; fresh and un-plucked. It was pure, simplistic beauty. “I would love to, darling, but I promised to myself that I would take you out on a date this time before I try to snake my way into your hot,” I suckled on her bottom lip, “slippery and enticing pussy.”

Stella pouted. “Please?”

Jesus, the woman was set out to strangle my cock. A promise was a promise and I was going to take her out, even if I was to run about London blue-balled and in dire pain. “Not a chance, milady.”

She raised her brow at me, curious. “Where are you taking me?”

That was a surprise. One I hoped she’d like. “Goodness, woman. Let a man take you out on a date without the whole interrogation,” I teased as I nibbled on her earlobe. God, I wanted to sink into her wet cunt… even just for a few seconds, however I knew seconds wouldn’t be enough to quench my hunger.

After last night—the stint with Zara, Derek and Hugh—I knew I had to start paving our foundation. I didn’t want a shaky relationship with Stella. I wanted her to know that during our time together—the entire duration—I was hers.

Besides, I needed another excuse to see her smile. There was something about her smile that made me feel as if I was doing something right in my life. For some reason, a big part of me hoped that, someday, I wouldn’t be the man who would diminish that glorious smile of hers.

After what happened with Zara yesterday, I had so much to make up for. Apart from that little snide remark she mentioned last night, she hasn’t said anything else and based on my experience with past lovers, this was a bad sign.

Women would pout, act extremely bitchy, not to mention clingy atop all the who’s prettier questions and the who’s better in bed drill of insanity. These were the most common epidemics of women needing reassurance that they were fine and secure on the relationship front.

Stella never did all that, so it was normal for a man to worry. I wasn’t sure if her reaction was based on the fact that she was above all of these petty, churlish acts and platitudes… or it could simply be because she simply didn’t care about me…

Both were fine, really, but I wasn’t going to deny that I was hoping that the first one was the most valid.

I cared for Stella. Atop the fact that she was Richard’s baby sister, I also started to care about the person that she was, the woman beneath the surface.

Stella was remarkable. She lost her brother and her parents and yet, she wasn’t one to dwell and make everyone’s lives a living hell because she was going through a tough time. She was wealthy in her own right, yet she didn’t flaunt that like other women easily did. Most of all, she had a heart. When she talked about her best friends, her work and other people she cared about, her face would light up, animated. These were all admirable things and I wanted to be a part of that circle later on. I wanted her to care for me the way she did with her friends.

I knew I wanted it, but the reasoning behind the very fact was still baffling to me. Pondering much about the subject didn’t get me anywhere. I wasn’t in love with her, but I wished for her to start caring for me.

It really was odd.

When Stella emerged an hour later, dressed to torture me all night long, my thoughts ceased to exist.

The tightening of my chest surfaced as I stared at her. Gray eyes infiltrated my thoughts. “Stella,” I uttered her name and the feeling in my chest intensified. The urge to kiss her senseless and take her to bed was so inviting that I had decided not to touch a bit of her in fear that I might not be able to control my libido. I was becoming a glutton when it came to her body. Each time I took her, the addiction sharpened. Magnified. How could a man stay away from a barely touched, nubile body? Let alone a very responsive, sexy, gorgeous woman that made moans that hardened me in a flash? Never in my life had I been this libidinous—body so unquenched that I was half-aroused most of the time—thinking only of Stella.

This was well and all, but I wasn’t bothered by it since it was all physical. The needs of the flesh could always be doused one way or the other, but the emotional and mental ones were the hardest to forget.

Tonight, I wasn’t going to allow the ghost of Zara to interrupt us. Stella deserved my one hundred percent attention.

Half an hour later, we finally reached our destination.

Let’s see how I fair in this test, I challenged myself.