I don another bodysuit.
A short black dress. Heeled leather sandals. Wine lipstick.
There. I look good. Like me.
The sex goddess version of me.
Sienna is still hung over on the couch, but she manages to get up for long enough to tell me I look hot. And demand I show up no sooner than dawn.
I promise to do my best. Then I meet Ty downstairs, in front of another rented limo.
He helps me into the car. Shoots me a look that dares me to ask for more.
But I don't. Not yet.
"You look gorgeous," he says.
"You too."
He smiles. "Exactly what I'm going for."
"I know."
"I rebooked the photographer," he says. "He'll be fast. Half an hour. Then we'll have the balcony to ourselves."
"Just us?"
He nods. "There's a private booth."
"Oh."
"It's not, what do you say here, it's not the Pentagon, but it should be secluded."
My sex clenches. "You did promise."
"No, I didn't."
Fuck, he didn't. He never does.
He's always teasing me.
Pushing me.
Daring me to ask for more.
"Will you?" I ask.
His eyes meet mine. "Will I what?" He holds my gaze with patience. Waiting for me to expand.
He knows it's harder now that I'm sober.
But I…
I can get past that.
"Will you come in my mouth?" My chest heaves with my inhale. "Please."
His pupils dilate. "Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"Do you really want to make me repeat myself?"
He explains the layout of the balcony, the details of the photographs we're taking, the idea behind the plan.
But I absorb none of it.
My thoughts are in the gutter.
I barely notice when we step out of the limo to flashing lights. When a short man follows us into the building. Up the elevator. Onto the balcony.
We're supposed to look in love.
Maybe we do. I don't know.
I only know that I want to touch Ty.
So I get close. And I kiss him like I'll never get enough.
When he kisses back like I'm the only thing he needs, I believe it.
Maybe I don't have his heart.
But I have his body.
And that's something.
It's a lot.
It's the only thing in my head, until Ty leaves to walk the photographer out.
Then my surroundings hit me.
Fuck.
This place is gorgeous.
The restaurant is one big open room, with windows that span from the floor to the very high ceilings.
The diners can't see us. Here. Not in the semi-private booth in the corner. Not really.
It has a high back and sheer curtains.
Secluded and exposed at the same time.
Ty is daring me again.
Why is he so good at daring me?
I move into the booth. Check the space.
A low couch, more suited for drinks than dinner.
Drinks.
Or sex.
It's about the size of my room, with a soft floor, a low table, flickering candles.
Beautiful.
But too far from the view.
I can only see one sliver of skyline. Blue against fluorescent yellow and steel. The big silver moon.
God, it's beautiful. Especially in the dark. There's something about the city at night. This power and peace.
It takes my breath away.
I must stare for a while, because I'm still sitting, my eyes on the view, when Ty returns, a Manhattan in each hand.
He moves into the booth. Sits next to me.
"Thanks." I pick up my drink. Take a sip. Let the familiar taste of bourbon and vermouth flood my senses. "You always order a Manhattan."
He raises a brow.
"Part of your… when in Rome credo?"
"Usually, I drink it straight."
"But…"
"I like tasting your lips." He gives me a slow once-over. It's pure desire.
Fuck. I'm not ready to answer his dare. Not yet. I stand. Motion to the open space. After you.
He follows me onto the balcony.
All the way to the railing.
I take a long sip. Let the bourbon warm my lips and dissolve my inhibitions.
If I know Ty, this is expensive bourbon. And it's good. The perfect mix of sweet, rich, spicy.
Ty watches me study the city. "Twenty-two years and you're still in love."
"I'll never get tired of it." How could I? There's something about the soft yellow against the deep blue sky. All these buildings, offices, homes, people, and they're all awake and alive.
Is there anything better than the city at night?
If there is, I haven't seen it.
Admiration slips into his voice. "That's one of the things I love about you."
Love. That's a loaded word. I try to ignore it. "Thank you."
We stand there in silence, the word hanging in the air.
Slowly, we finish our drinks.
Ty takes my empty glass. Looks to the restaurant. Then the booth.
"Are you hungry?" he asks.
"No."
"You are."
"This first. Please."
He half-smiles. "I should make you wait."
"Maybe." I rest my hand on his chest. Dig my fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. "But you're not that cruel."
"Yes, I am." He leans in to press his lips to mine. "But I’m feeling generous." He places the cups on an empty table. "So, Indie. Tell me what you want. Right now."
"What I want?"
"Anything. Tell me and I'll decide if I'm going to give it to you."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ty
Her eyes fix on mine.
Her cheeks flush.
She's shy, but she's eager too.
"You know what I want," she says. "You always do."
Yes, but I still need her to say it. "Tell me."
"What I said. Yesterday."
"What's that?" I run my thumb over her lower lip.
"Ty—"
"Say it."
"I want you to fuck my mouth." She raises her voice. "Please."
"Please?"
"Please, sir."
Fuck. My balls tighten. I want her. I want her every way I can have her. And this—
I study her. The intensity in her eyes. The part of her lips. The heave of her chest.
She's here. And she's tuned to me.
It's what I want.
The only thing I want.
"I won't go easy on you," I say.
Her pupils dilate. "I wouldn't want you to, sir."
Fuck. "Sit down. Wait for me."
She moves into the booth.
I need to make her wait. And I need to get ahold of myself.
I slip into the restaurant. To the bathroom. Piss. Clean up. Inhale deep breaths.
She trusts me.
But not completely.
I need to be careful with her.
I need to earn all her trust.
I move through the restaurant, onto the balcony, to the booth.
Indigo is sitting in the middle of the red couch, her knees pressed together, her lips in a pout.