Craving Him by Kendall Ryan Page B

like Fiona sent an email with the details for the shoot tomorrow. It begins on the beach at nine a.m. There’s an attached page of grooming instructions.”
    “Yeah? What’s it say?”
    She chuckled under her breath. “Wow. There’s an astounding amount of detail on the way your pubic hair should be trimmed. Basically short . . . oh my goodness. Is this serious?” She let out a short laugh.
    Honestly, it wasn’t that surprising. I often received specific instructions for shaving my face, chest, and abs. This was a little out of the ordinary but not that unexpected. It was a swimsuit shoot, after all.
    “What else does it say?” I asked.
    Her eyes had gone wide and she sat silently blinking at the screen. “Fiona’s left a note underneath the instructions.” Her voice was shaky.
    “Read it to me.”
    Emmy took a deep breath. “See you tomorrow, love. And P.S. I know these instructions won’t pose a hardship for you, considering you’ve always kept yourself nice and neat. Love, Fiona.”
    Within seconds, I’d crossed the room and was guiding her away from the computer by the shoulders. “Ignore her. We both know that was a cheap attempt to get a rise out of you. My cock is yours. Just yours. Okay?”
    She nodded, her eyes locked on mine.
    I leaned in and kissed her softly. “Sit down, baby. Enjoy your coffee.” I pushed the mug toward her and she lowered herself into the chair. “Eat up,” I urged, sitting down across from her. “We have the whole day to play before work begins tomorrow.” I wanted to get her mind off of Fiona’s bitchy message.
    “What are we going to do?”
    “Anything you want. Snorkeling, scuba-diving, sunning ourselves, napping, hiking, oh, and apparently we need to shave my balls at some point too.”
    She giggled. “Ben!”
    “What? I’m a rule follower, baby. And you’re my assistant now, so I think you should have to help. Supervise, at least.”
    She shook her head, a pretty smile on her mouth. “Thank you for ordering breakfast. This is delicious.” She nibbled on an apricot pastry drizzled in honey. Part of me wanted to keep quiet, to let her assume it was me, but an annoying voice in the back of my head pointed out that Fiona was likely to mention something about sending us breakfast. I needed to prove to Emmy that I could be honest about the big stuff as well as the little things.
    “Actually, Fiona had it sent over,” I murmured in between sips of coffee.
    Emmy’s eyebrows shot up and she dropped the half-eaten pastry to her plate as if suddenly losing her appetite. She roughly swallowed the bite she’d been chewing, the food visibly being forced down her throat. “Oh.” She rose from the table. “I’m going to shower.”
    Shit .
    Having lost my appetite as well, I called the concierge and requested that the food be removed right away so it’d be gone before Emmy was out of the shower.
    I would have ordered her breakfast and fed it to her in bed if Fiona hadn’t interfered. Christ, what a mess being stuck between these two women.
    • • •
    When Emmy emerged from the bedroom dressed in a pair of cutoff jean shorts, red tank top, and tan sandals, it seemed her good mood was back. She looked adorable and sexy at the same time. A smile overtook my mouth. “C’mere, pretty.”
    She hesitated, blinking at me.
    “Emmy.” I held out my hand and she crossed the room and took it. “Are you okay?”
    She nodded thoughtfully but didn’t speak.
    “Don’t let her take this from us. I was so happy last night and this morning waking up with you.” I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I’m yours, baby. Trust me, okay?”
    She nodded again, blinking up at me with unshed tears. I cupped her jaw and angled my mouth to hers. I felt her arms wind around my waist. We fit perfectly together. I just needed to keep reminding her of that. And the only way I seemed to know how to do it was with physical affection. I wasn’t good at pretty words.