CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Anticipation skated across her flesh as she walked down the hallway on the twentieth floor, as she raised her fist, as she rapped on his door.

In less than five seconds, he opened it, looking sleep-rumpled and impossibly sexy. His black hair was a mess, his jawline was thick with stubble, and his blue eyes twinkled.

He wore black pants and a striped button-down shirt. The top two buttons were undone, and the shirt was wrinkled. It was nearly one; her flight had been late. She was slated to have landed at nine, and while she’d toyed with emailing him from the plane, she’d opted for the surprise.

There was something both comforting and appealing in knowing the other person would like the surprise…of you.

A slow smile spread across his face as he drank her in, then before either one of them said a word, he tugged her inside, ran his fingers through her hair, and kissed her like crazy. She wanted to melt in his arms and spend the night like this.

When he broke the kiss, she nearly stumbled, woozy and drunk on him. He reached for her arm, steadying her, then he brushed a few loose strands of hair from her face, flashing a casual grin. “So what brings you to town?”

She collected her thoughts, shifting away from his kiss. “Your soon-to-be sister-in-law hired me for a boudoir session. And she asked if I’d want to photograph her wedding, too. Seems she heard I don’t get away from France much unless it’s for work, so she arranged two jobs for me here. I don’t usually do weddings, but I find jobs in Vegas have a particular appeal,” she said with a sly grin.

Michael smiled, too. “She’s a clever one.”

“I’m excited to meet her,” she said, then cast her eyes to her suitcase. “Is it presumptuous for me to not book a hotel room for the next few days?”

He shook his head, taking the suitcase and shutting the door behind her. “It would be criminal for you to stay anywhere else.”

She glanced around, drinking in his home for the first time ever. His was sparse and neat. A wide gray L-shaped couch overlooked a glittering view of the city. A metal coffee table was littered with magazines, papers, and a silver laptop. In a cabinet was a huge TV screen, and a stereo system perched beneath it. She suspected Michael listened to music more than he watched TV. On the walls were framed photos of his family. His brothers and sister, a black-and-white border collie, and a picture of Michael and his father from many years ago.

But her interest in the setting waned quickly. She had more important matters on her mind, and in her heart.

“Did you get my letter?”

“I did. I loved it,” he said with a simple smile.

And that was all it took. She was unleashed. She was free. She’d flown across an ocean to surprise him, she’d come to his home to tell him her heart, and she was no longer going to let her fear of losing rule the day.

“I love you,” she blurted out, standing in the quiet entryway of his home.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You do?”

She nodded and couldn’t stop the grin from bursting across her face. “I love you, Michael. I just do.”

“You’re not just falling in love with me?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’m. In. Love. With. You.” She took her time enunciating every word, then she held his face in her hands. He sighed happily and closed his eyes. She tilted her chin to kiss him, brushing her lips on his. “I love you. Now answer the question.”

He broke the kiss and scratched his head. “What was the question?”

“Will you let me?” she asked, playfully imploring.

He tapped his chin as if considering her request. Then he laughed and tugged her close. “Yes. God, yes. Hell yes. And I’m sorry if I handled things poorly in Paris. I’m sorry for being distant and pulling back. I’m just so consumed with you, and I don’t want to be your second best. Your runner-up.”

She shook her head. “You’re not. I have a big heart. There is room in it to love again, fully and deeply. I don’t want it to be a competition, Michael. All I know is this,” she said, slowing her words, meeting his gaze. “I love you, and because of that now I’m terrified of losing you. Even so, I won’t let that stop me from feeling everything with you. Because I do feel everything, and I want to keep on loving you. Just let me love you with all I have.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded. “Yes. It is always yes with you. You’re all I want. Now and always.”

“The same,” she whispered. “It’s the same for me with you.”

She pressed a kiss to his chest then traveled up his neck, layering his throat with kisses, his jaw, his ear. She nibbled on his earlobe, and he groaned. Then he scooped her up in his arms, strode across the hardwood floors of his apartment, kicked open the door to his bedroom, and set her down. Whispering sweet, dirty words, he stripped off all her clothes as she took off his shirt.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice soft and vulnerable as he pushed her red panties to the ground.

“I missed you, too.”

He slid a finger between her legs, gliding across her aching pussy. “And I missed fucking you.”

“God, I missed that so much, too.”

“And making love to you. And hearing you come. It’s my favorite thing in the world—making you come,” he said, dipping his head to her neck, sucking on her flesh as he rubbed his finger across her hot center. “The sounds you make. How you say my name.”

She gasped. “I love it all with you. I want it all with you.”

“Now?” he asked in a sexy growl.

“Now, please now,” she said, begging as she unzipped his pants and he kicked them off.

“Show me how wild you are for me,” he said, rough and commanding as he sank down on the bed, patting his chest. “Here. Ride my face, my love. I need you to come on my lips before I fuck you.”

Sparks zipped across her skin as she climbed over him, straddling his face. With strong arms, and a ravenous look in his eyes, he pulled her onto his mouth, and kissed her wet pussy.

“Oh God,” she cried out, and in seconds, they found a rhythm. She rocked against his face, and he gripped her hips, his strong fingers digging into the flesh of her ass as he devoured her.

He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t playful. He was a hungry man, and he was eating her. With each lick, a savage pleasure tore through her body, twisting and coiling inside her. She thrust against him, moaning and fucking his tongue. With her hands braced against the wall, her hips moved in a frenzy, and he devoured her pussy, sucking, kissing, licking until she was mindless with pleasure and aching to come.

Then a hot flush raced over her skin, and desire curled inside her, shattering in a white-hot, neon burst in her body. His name tumbled from her lips as she cried out.

She barely had time to come down from her high when he shifted her off him, tugged her down the bed, and spread her legs wide. He stroked his rock-hard dick, staring at her legs. “So beautiful. You taste so fucking good. I want to eat you all the time. I want to have you in every way,” he said, then lowered himself between her legs and sank inside.

In one deliciously intense thrust.

Her eyes rolled closed and her back bowed. “God, it’s so good.”

He pushed, thrust deep, then lowered his chest to hers. “So fucking good. And do you know why?”

“Because I love you,” she answered in a murmur.

“Because I fucking love you, too.”

And that was it. That was why she was in another world with Michael Sloan, fucking, and falling, and loving, and living, and feeling. So much feeling. Every nerve snapped, every cell blazed, everything else faded as he fucked her with so much passion, so much need, and so much love that she nearly burst. She wanted him now, she wanted him always, and she wanted him to know that he was hers, and she was his, and she would give him everything. As the pleasure built inside her again, nearing another crest, she tugged him even closer, whispering in his ear. Nothing complicated. Nothing artful. Just the three simple words that she knew he’d longed to hear. She’d never known anyone to love so deeply, so intensely, and she wanted him to have everything he wanted.

Her.

She could finally give him herself.

“I love you,” she gasped, as another orgasm crashed into her, and he fucked her through it, chasing his own release.

* * *

“Well, that was a helluva surprise,” he said minutes later, flopping on his back next to her in bed.

She laughed. “Glad you liked it.”

“My favorite surprise ever,” he said, then rolled to his side, resting his head in his hand. He traced a line down to her waist. “So Sophie helped you plan this?”

Annalise nodded. “She’s quite a romantic.”

“She seems to be.” He sighed. “Just wish I didn’t have to work at all while you’re here. I have so much exploring to do,” he said, traveling across her stomach with his fingers, letting her know which terrain he meant. “I want to do everything with you,” he whispered, squeezing her rear, letting his meaning register.

She met his gaze with wide, earnest eyes. “Anything,” she said in her sexy vulnerable voice. “You can do anything with me.” Then she stopped and raised a finger. “Well, maybe not pee on me or anything like that.”

Cracking up, he tugged her close and planted a kiss on her collarbone. “Yeah, not that. Definitely not that.”

“But as for you having to work…” She dragged a finger down his sternum.

“What about it?”

“I have this photo shoot, but Sophie talked to Ryan,” she said, her tone conspiratorial, like she was sharing a secret in high school.

“And what did Ryan have to say?”

“Apparently,” she said, running that finger across his abs now, “Ryan asked Mindy to help out so you could have a few days off.”

“But Mindy has a job.”

Annalise shrugged. “I guess she’s moonlighting for Sloan Protection Resources to help a friend. Besides, she told them that you introduced her to the new man in her life, so she was happy to help you see the woman in yours.”

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Mindy was a good friend. Sophie was a fantastic soon-to-be sister-in-law. Ryan was a great brother. He was a lucky son-of-a-bitch to have so many good people in his life.

“Sounds like a lot of people like you,” she said and then straddled him, pinning his wrists in her hands, the ends of her red hair tickling his chest.

“I’m a likeable guy. And look at you. You like me, too,” he said, playfully.

“I do like you. I’m in love with you, Michael Sloan.” Before he could respond, she tilted her head, as if considering what she’d just said. “Michael Sloan,” she repeated, like his name was new to her. “Funny. The first boy I fell in love with was named Michael Paige-Prince. Now I’m in love with this Michael Sloan fella.”

“Same guy?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Same. But different, too,” she said, and with a sharp burst of clarity, he understood completely what his sister had meant—understood it because he felt it deep within his bones, all the way through his blood, and right into his heart.