She shuddered, his words, his nearness sending chills of want through her flesh.
“And you got your taste,” she murmured, her voice a low hum.
He kissed the spot just beneath her ear, flicking out his tongue. She gasped, shuddering all the harder.
“Yes, I got my taste,” he drawled low. “But it wasn’t enough.” The steel in his gaze burned to molten, setting fire to the last ounce of her doubts. “It will never be enough,” he growled and she trembled against him.
Taking her mouth with his, David spent the rest of the evening showing her that she would never have enough of him, either.
When she awoke the next morning, it was to find the bed beside her empty. Startled, she sat up, the sheet sliding from her naked chest.
“David,” she called out, turning to blink at the clock on the bedside table. It was just past 6AM. Usually, if it were a work day, she’d already be up getting ready for work, but since she was in Manhattan on a Saturday, she figured she’d get to sleep in next to David that morning.
Apparently, that wasn’t part of his plans for the day. Sighing, she threw the sheet off her body and slipped from the bed. She didn’t have a change of clothes, and what she did have she’d worn to work the day before. Talk about a walk of shame; everyone in the office would know what she’d done. Thankfully, they wouldn’t know who she’d done it with. Not that that helped her current, pressing situation. Cursing, she pulled on her discarded panties, wondering if she had enough time to run to Margie’s place to grab the stuff she’d left there the weekend before.
Glancing at the clock again, Diana’s gaze caught on the rumbled sheets and pillows on the other side of the bed. The side where David had slept.
Where had he gone? She knew he was a busy man, his empire requiring his attention, but was that an excuse to not wake her up and tell her he was leaving?
Did you do that? She grunted, rolling her eyes at herself. No, she hadn’t, she left him their first night together. But how long would she have to relive that decision? It was as though it had taken on a life of its own, busting into her conscience to berate her for being such a coward. So, was David giving her a taste of her own medicine?
Rushing to the bathroom to potty, she couldn’t miss her reflection in the large, ornate mirror. Her hair ruffled and poofy, her lips swollen, her neck red from whisker burn…she looked as though she’d spent the night fucking. And she had. Her pussy throbbed, memories of her night with David drawing the heat from her limbs to pour it into her core.
She groaned.
Realizing she had little time to ruminate on all that had occurred, she hurried to dress, ran her fingers through her hair, and departed the suite in record time.
And it didn’t skip her mind that they, not once the night before, spoke about the baby.
Chapter 16
Margie burst through Diana’s office door, a heaping armful of flowers in her arms.
“What is all that?” Diana asked, her eyes wide and curious about the many colors of tulips and roses in her friend’s embrace. “Did a florist explode?” She chuckled at her own joke, though she didn’t really find it humorous.
Margie snickered, stopping at Diana’s desk and offloading the flowers which were in a tall, wide crystal vase, on to the desk top where all the files were open and waiting for Diana’s focus. She’d had none all day.
“These, darling, are for you,” Margie informed her, her face alight with both glee and mischief.
Shocked, Diana could only stare at the flowers, their scent beginning to fill her small office like a spring garden.
“What do you mean they’re for me? And when did you become the delivery girl for this floor?”
Margie waved off Diana’s remarks. “I was passing reception in the lobby when these were brought in. I told Elaine I could bring them up to you because, well, I wanted to see your face when you got a look at them.”
Diana shook her head.
“I’m sure you can guess who they’re from,” Margie prodded, her eyebrows wiggling comically.
Planting her hands on her hips, Diana huffed. “Who?”
“Just read the card.”
Narrowing her eyes at her friend, Diana drawled, “Had a look did you? Why don’t you just tell me.” Hell, she was pouting. But it wasn’t every day that she got flowers, and it didn’t seem right that Margie got to see them and the note from who sent them before she did.
“I didn’t read the card, Diana, but it doesn’t take a snoop to know who sent them.”
Relief filled her, but then the guilt came in, too. Warmth spread over her face.
“Sorry for assuming you’d snoop, Margie.”
“Pfft. Now, let’s see what Mr. Billionaire Baby Daddy said,” Margie chirped, which made Diana giggle.
Searching through the bouquet, Diana spied the card first. She pulled it from its holder and peeled the flap back on the tiny envelope. Holding her breath, she tugged the small card free.
It read: I can’t get the taste of peaches off my tongue.
