sharks and I almost died. I couldn’t get to you fast enough. Jesus, Sophie. Don’t ever do anything like that again.”
Trust you me, I will never do anything like that again , I think to myself.
“I won’t.”
Clayton looks somewhat mollified by my acquiescence. His fingers starts to trace lines and my skin tingles from his touch.
“You didn’t call.”
Clayton’s eyes meet mine. I wonder if my session with Noom has something to do with my sudden boldness.
“Yes, I did. About thirty times. I waited until ten because I thought you needed your sleep.” I’m instantly placated. He didn’t forget me.
“I was with Noom.”
“Yes, I know,” he says. I raise a brow. How would he know that? “I figured if you weren’t in your room, you probably booked a spa appointment. So I called and checked.”
That was daring of him. And then the most pleasant thought fills me like a dream. He likes me. He cares enough to see where I am.
“Why didn’t you leave a message?”
“I don’t do messages.” Like he doesn’t do jealousy. I laugh.
“So what do you do?” I ask softly.
He gives me a devilish smile. “Now that’s a loaded question.”
“I didn’t mean—“
“I know you didn’t. It’s fun teasing you. You’re so easy to read. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered before.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I ask him shyly.
“Good.” He smiles at me. “Very good.”
I am flying through the sky again. I’m so glad I jumped in the ocean with the sharks. Look where it led me. I love Noom!
“I want to know you.” I watch the shadows move over his face when I make the statement.
“I’ll bore you,” he replies.
“Try me.”
He’s pensive for a long moment, but when he looks at me his gaze is guarded.
“Ask me whatever you’d like.”
“And you’ll answer?” Somehow, I sense that is an impossibility.
“Depends on whether or not I like the question.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Try me.”
“Alright. So tell me everything.” Since this has been a day of unexpected daring, why not continue?
His finger traces a path up my stomach toward the valley between my breasts. My eyes close in response. “You have to ask a specific question.”
“I can’t concentrate when you do that.” Clayton leans down and licks the path his finger had traced. I let out a moan.
“What would you like to know?” he whispers as he kisses my stomach and places his cheek against it. “You have beautiful, soft skin, you know.”
What was I going to ask him? He’s doing this on purpose. I know it and he knows it. I try to remain immune. But it’s like he’s got this magic spell that makes me incapable of rational thought.
“Who are you?” I finally say.
“Clayton Astor Sinclair.” He kisses my stomach, licks a spot, then blows on it.
“Sounds important.” I can feel his smile.
“It’s just a name.”
“It suits you.”
“I kind of like it myself,” he says teasingly.
Okay, next question Sophie.
“What do you do for a living that you can afford all of this?”
“I’m in the shipping business.”
I try to move so I can look at his face while I ask him these questions, but he won’t allow it.
“No moving. You’re trapped now.”
Trust me, I don’t mind.
“You own your company.” It’s a statement. I just say it out loud to confirm what I already know.
“Yes.”
“How old are you?” He’s so young to have such wealth at his disposal.
“Thirty-four.” He looks younger. That’s an eleven-year age difference. I didn’t quite expect that but then, I kind of like it. It means he’s played the field, done his thing, and should kind of know what he wants, right? At least according to Dr. Phil.
“When’s your birthday?”
He laughs. “November. Do you think I’m too old for you?” Before I can answer, his hand moves beneath my body and holds my behind. “I’m not.”
The sigh that I’ve been trying to contain comes out at that
Trust you me, I will never do anything like that again , I think to myself.
“I won’t.”
Clayton looks somewhat mollified by my acquiescence. His fingers starts to trace lines and my skin tingles from his touch.
“You didn’t call.”
Clayton’s eyes meet mine. I wonder if my session with Noom has something to do with my sudden boldness.
“Yes, I did. About thirty times. I waited until ten because I thought you needed your sleep.” I’m instantly placated. He didn’t forget me.
“I was with Noom.”
“Yes, I know,” he says. I raise a brow. How would he know that? “I figured if you weren’t in your room, you probably booked a spa appointment. So I called and checked.”
That was daring of him. And then the most pleasant thought fills me like a dream. He likes me. He cares enough to see where I am.
“Why didn’t you leave a message?”
“I don’t do messages.” Like he doesn’t do jealousy. I laugh.
“So what do you do?” I ask softly.
He gives me a devilish smile. “Now that’s a loaded question.”
“I didn’t mean—“
“I know you didn’t. It’s fun teasing you. You’re so easy to read. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered before.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I ask him shyly.
“Good.” He smiles at me. “Very good.”
I am flying through the sky again. I’m so glad I jumped in the ocean with the sharks. Look where it led me. I love Noom!
“I want to know you.” I watch the shadows move over his face when I make the statement.
“I’ll bore you,” he replies.
“Try me.”
He’s pensive for a long moment, but when he looks at me his gaze is guarded.
“Ask me whatever you’d like.”
“And you’ll answer?” Somehow, I sense that is an impossibility.
“Depends on whether or not I like the question.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Try me.”
“Alright. So tell me everything.” Since this has been a day of unexpected daring, why not continue?
His finger traces a path up my stomach toward the valley between my breasts. My eyes close in response. “You have to ask a specific question.”
“I can’t concentrate when you do that.” Clayton leans down and licks the path his finger had traced. I let out a moan.
“What would you like to know?” he whispers as he kisses my stomach and places his cheek against it. “You have beautiful, soft skin, you know.”
What was I going to ask him? He’s doing this on purpose. I know it and he knows it. I try to remain immune. But it’s like he’s got this magic spell that makes me incapable of rational thought.
“Who are you?” I finally say.
“Clayton Astor Sinclair.” He kisses my stomach, licks a spot, then blows on it.
“Sounds important.” I can feel his smile.
“It’s just a name.”
“It suits you.”
“I kind of like it myself,” he says teasingly.
Okay, next question Sophie.
“What do you do for a living that you can afford all of this?”
“I’m in the shipping business.”
I try to move so I can look at his face while I ask him these questions, but he won’t allow it.
“No moving. You’re trapped now.”
Trust me, I don’t mind.
“You own your company.” It’s a statement. I just say it out loud to confirm what I already know.
“Yes.”
“How old are you?” He’s so young to have such wealth at his disposal.
“Thirty-four.” He looks younger. That’s an eleven-year age difference. I didn’t quite expect that but then, I kind of like it. It means he’s played the field, done his thing, and should kind of know what he wants, right? At least according to Dr. Phil.
“When’s your birthday?”
He laughs. “November. Do you think I’m too old for you?” Before I can answer, his hand moves beneath my body and holds my behind. “I’m not.”
The sigh that I’ve been trying to contain comes out at that
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