Billionaire on the Loose (Page 79)

Damn it, she really was going to cry.

“Taylor. I love you. I can’t say that enough. I love you and I want you back. I want you to give me another chance, Taylor. I can’t promise I won’t fuck up. I can’t promise I won’t ever hurt your feelings again. But I promise I’ll love you each and every day.”

She nodded, and swiped tears from her eyes with her free hand.

“So . . . will you marry me?” Loch’s beautiful face hovered near hers, close enough that if she leaned over the table, she could kiss the wonderful mouth she’d been missing for so many weeks.

“Oh, Loch . . . no.”

Anguish crossed his face. “No?”

“Not yet.” She squeezed his hand. “But I will live in sin with you again. And I’ll be your girlfriend. And when I think I’m ready to get married, I’ll say yes. But until then, I just want to take it easy, if that’s all right.”

His smile returned. “I’m fine with that. I love you, Taylor.”

“Oh, god, I love you, too, Loch.” She did. So much.

“Also, you should know your scarf has been lying on top of your pizza for the last five minutes.”

“Don’t care,” she breathed, devouring him with her eyes. “Are you still at the same hotel? Or is my apartment closer?”

Heat flared in his gaze. “Same hotel. Few blocks from here.”

“Want to go there and have nasty make-up sex?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

They quickly cleared their table, dumping their all-but-uneaten pizza. Once out on the street, they linked hands like children and raced down the sidewalks. Loch, of course, was barely winded by the time they went the six blocks back to his hotel, but Taylor was wiped. “I think I need to take up jogging with you to work on my stamina,” she panted, using the non-greasy end of her long scarf to wipe her sweaty brow.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he told her, and then dragged her into the elevator with him. Once the doors shut, he kissed her hard, holding her tightly against him, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a fierce possessiveness that made her toes curl and her thighs tremble.

By the time they made it to his floor, Taylor was having trouble standing upright. His kiss had an edge of sweet desperation to it, and she felt the same way he did—like it had been forever since they’d been together last, and she’d die if she didn’t get him naked in the next two minutes. The elevator stopped and the doors opened, and Taylor’s legs wobbled as the kiss ended. “Whew,” she breathed, utterly entranced by his mouth.

The moment they stepped out of the elevator, he picked her up. “I’m staking my claim on you, Taylor Westfield.”

“Stake away,” she told him even as he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her, caveman-style, to his hotel room. She couldn’t stop smiling. She wanted to sing out loud with joy, to climb the walls with happiness.

Of course, she’d settle for climbing him.

He opened the door to his hotel room and they went inside, and he didn’t stop. He carried her over to the bed and as he did, she took a peek around. “Same room?”

“Same room,” he agreed, and then dumped her on the bed.

Awesome. Taylor ripped at her scarf and then her T-shirt, shucking clothing. He grabbed her capri pants and hiked them down her thighs, dragging her panties along with them. In moments, she was naked, her bra quickly following her slip-on sneakers. Then, her hands were on him, tearing at his shirt as he undid his belt and tried to strip down just as fast as she had.

“Condoms?” she asked, then almost wished she hadn’t. When she’d met him, he’d casually answered that he always carried a condom with him, implying that he dated around. Had he been celibate while they were apart, or had he gone back to his tomcatting ways? She hadn’t even asked, and suddenly it became important to know.

Loch hesitated. He glanced over at the bathroom, then frowned. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and started to zip his pants again. “Fuck.”

“Were you . . . Did you sleep with anyone while we were apart?”

The look he gave her was appalled. “God, no. The thought of touching another woman makes me want to vomit. I don’t want anyone but you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t want you to want anyone but me, either.”

“Be right back.” He disappeared into the bathroom and she could hear him rummaging around in his toiletries, cussing under his breath.

She chuckled to herself, pleased. For once, she wasn’t pissed that a condom wasn’t readily at hand for sex.

“Aha!” he called out a moment later, and then returned with a worn foil packet. “I found this in the bottom of my bag.”

“Is it . . . expired? It looks like it’s had a rough journey.” She giggled when he flipped over the packet and peered at the date.

“It has a whole month before it expires. Want to give it a go anyhow?”

“Fuck yes I do!” She grabbed his pants and started to undo them again. “We’ll do a morning-after pill or something if we have to. I don’t care. I just want you.”

“I want you, too,” he murmured, running his hands all over her body. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, Taylor.”

Her hands slid his pants down to his thighs and then he kicked them off, his boxers following a moment later. His shirt went flying across the room, and then he was on her, kissing her fiercely as she held the condom in her hand. His body pressed over hers and she wrapped a leg around his hips, eager. This was what she wanted. This was what she’d missed. It felt so right to be with him. So perfect.