My body aches, but the sheets are cool and luxuriously smooth against my skin when I stretch my arms over my head. 

What was supposed to be a relaxing bath certainly escalated quickly. 

Not that I have any regrets about that. 

The images come back to me in a flood of desire, and I swallow hard thinking of last night. Weston fucking me relentlessly in the tub, water splashing over the sides, and then again spread out on two plush towels on the bathroom floor. No time to go to the bedroom.

Until there was time, and we took all of it.

That was only Friday night.

A little smile plays over my face.

“Are you dreaming or awake?”

His voice is low and soft, and I open my eyes to the sight of him half out of the sheets, his perfectly sculpted abs on full display, propped up on one elbow so he can look down at me. “Both, I think.”

“Good morning.”

“Hi.”

I run a finger from the center of his pecs down to his navel, and he catches my hand just before I can go any lower, and brings it up to his lips. “I’m not going to stop you, but…”

I pout a little, and he laughs. “Why are you stopping me, then?”

“Because I thought you might be hungry…for food.”

My stomach growls like it’s answering him. I don’t remember what we ate for dinner last night—was that just last night? It might have been sushi from a place so upscale I was stunned that they did delivery. But I was mostly interested in Weston’s body. In trying to clear my mind of the way my dad had been so damn vicious. 

Just like that, the pleasant warmth in my chest drains away. I feel like I’m clutching it in both fists, trying to get it to stay.

“What’s wrong?” Weston’s eyes are instantly focused on my face, blazing green jewels in the morning sunlight, narrowed slightly.

“Nothing.” I put a big smile on and throw my legs over the side of the bed, sashaying toward the bathroom. “After last night, the first thing I need is a shower. And then definitely some breakfast.”

He pushes himself up on the bed like a panther ready to spring, his gorgeously ripped arms flexing as he shifts his weight, a wicked light coming into his eyes. My heart rockets into my rib cage. I can’t bear the tension and turn to run, squealing, like I would never do in a million years.

He’s on me in seconds, his steady arms wrapped around me, and I throw my head back against his shoulder and laugh as he moves us both into the bathroom, reaching into the shower and flipping the stream on full blast. Weston turns me toward him on the mat and my toes sink into the plush fabric.

“Have I ever told you you’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet?”

“Not since yesterday.”

He leans down and presses his lips against the side of my neck, the heat rushing down between my legs. “Forget about everything else, Juliet James.” It’s like he’s reading my damn mind. The tension in the pit of my gut unknots itself. “Forget everything except being with me. It’s Sunday—” His lips move lower, caressing my collarbone. “—you’re not working tonight—” He swirls his tongue around my nipple, making it stiffen into a hard pebble of desire. “—and I’m going to take you out to have the best breakfast you’ve ever had in your life.” The tip of his tongue works against the other nipple, and then he’s dragging his lips down lower, over my belly button, and lower. Weston drops to his knees, his hands firm on my hips. “But first, spread wide for me, angel, because I’m…going…to….”

I spread my legs, planting my feet firmly on the mat and my hands on his shoulders, and his tongue is against my already wet folds, licking in hard strokes. With every single one, more of the hurt is washed away until I explode against his tongue, my knees giving out. 

Weston is strong enough to brace me with his arms.

When I finally come down from the high, he stands, curling his fingers through mine, and tugs me into the shower.

“Not so fast,” I tell him as he moves me under the water. “We’re not even.”

“Thank God,” he groans, and it’s my turn to drop to my knees.

It takes another two hours for us to be ready to leave for brunch—and one additional shower—but it’s still relatively early when I slide onto the cool seats of the town car. “What’s this magical place where you’re taking me?”

“I’m beginning to think you hate surprises.” Weston curls his arm around me and pulls me in close as Dave steers the car into the morning traffic.

“I like to be able to anticipate the wonders before I actually experience them.”

“And you can’t anticipate them without knowing our destination?” His eyes dance in the filtered sunlight. 

“I could anticipate them better if I knew.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever been to this restaurant.”

“What makes you so sure?”

He gives me a look. “Juliet James, you have serious personal reservations about taking a single night off work for any reason. I can almost guarantee that you’d never give up a Sunday morning studying for classes to take in a lavish brunch.” He kisses my temple, then plants more soft kisses all the way down my neck, moving aside the strap of the sundress I found hanging in Weston’s closet this morning in exactly my size. 

I sigh. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

He doesn’t.

It turns out to be a place on Madison Avenue that looks like the inside was a former dwelling place of King Midas. Everything gleams in gold, and the first thing that happens after we’re seated is that the head chef comes out to shake Weston’s hand.

“Wes!” He cries, his brown eyes crinkling into a smile. “You haven’t been in for a while. Did you miss me?”

“Of course I missed you, Robert.” Wes stands to clap a hand around the man’s back. “But mostly I missed the food, I’m sorry to say.”

Robert laughs, a big belly laugh that resonates over the chatter from the crowd. “Fair enough. But you’re not getting away without introducing me to this heavenly creature.” Robert takes my hand and lifts my knuckles to his lips like he’s some kind of courtier, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Juliet James,” I tell him. 

He grins at me, giving me a wink. “You watch out for Weston Grant, Juliet. You’re too good for him.” Robert turns back to Wes. “Don’t even think of touching the menu. Your first course will be out in no time.” He turns on his heel and moves away from the table, looking back over his shoulder just once. “It’s lovely to meet you, Juliet.”

I lean forward in my seat, fold my hands, and consider Weston. “Does he always personalize brunch for you?”

Weston opens his mouth to reply, but the voice that speaks from just next to my elbow is decidedly not his.

“Robert always did for me when we came.”

The smile disappears from his face.

“It’s been such a long time, Weston. Why haven’t you called?”