The Billionaire's Desire (A Billionaire BWWM Steamy Romance) by Mia Caldwell Page B

And then I'm going to watch your face while I eat
you."

 
    She
flushes over her whole body, her caramel skin suddenly scalding to the touch. I
can see her squirming and I know the idea appeals to her. I make a mental note
to send my sister an extravagant gift for having the good sense to hire Sanniyah
Jones to plan her wedding.

 
    She
squirms again. "I wasn't...I wasn't sure...that you..." she clears
her throat and looks me in the eye again. "Let me try that again,"
she says, tossing her head, and my mind is filled with thoughts of how her neck
tastes. "I wasn't sure you liked me, Carter. You were so...formal."

 
    "Ah."
I lean back. Benson is slowing as we hover over Annika Island before our
descent. I am almost in my safe haven. My thoughts are consumed with Sanniyah
and the image of her naked body spread out before me. I swallow, hard, then
laugh lightly. "I guess I'm old-fashioned."

 
    She
laughs loudly. "Hardly." Her hand rests on my thigh. "You don't
strike me as a gentleman."

 
    I place
my hand over my heart. "Why, I'm insulted," I feign shock, then grab
her hand and deliberately move it up my leg. She is laughing and blushing in an
instant and I am saved from having to explain my paranoia. She doesn't need to
know that I am crazy. She doesn't need to know she is dealing with a broken
man.

 

 
 
    Chapter Fifteen

 
    Sanniyah

 
 
 
    This
strawberry torte is divine.

 
    This
wine is entirely too drinkable.

 
    It is
just us, on the deck above the bay. The waves are shushing against the shore
like they want the whole world to quiet down so we can be alone. There is no
noise except the clink and scrape of my fork as I try to gather every last
delicious morsel.   I take another
sip of the wine, letting the nectar slip like honey down my throat, and I watch
Carter watch the ocean.

 
    He is
gorgeous. I'm half drunk on the wine and completely drunk on him.

 
    He sets
his plate down on the table between us and points to where he was looking.   "Down there, right? Right on the
beach?"

 
    I lean
forward, uncertain of what he means until it clicks that he is talking about
Camilla's wedding. I banish the lascivious thoughts of what he could have meant
and nod.

 
    "That's
what I pictured the minute I first came here," I agree. "The weather
in October should be perfect."

 
    "What
do you think of decorations?" he asks me, cocking an eyebrow.

 
    I lean
back in my deck chair and consider as I balance the dessert plate on my lap.
"You really don't need much," I say. "The surroundings are
enough."

 
    "I
was imagining fairy lights in the trees," Carter says

 
    I press
my lips together. "Fairy lights are a little...cliche," I tell him,
"I mean, in my professional opinion." I lick the last few crumbs of
the strawberry torte off my fork. Carter's is watching me, the heat of his gaze
threatening to set me ablaze.

 
    "Your
professional opinion?" he echoes, with his eyebrows raised.

 
    There
it is, that hunger again. I see it in his eyes, dimly lit by the dancing
torchlight and I am instantly on fire.

 
    "Yes,"
I say primly, arching my back like I am stretching. His eyes go right to my
breasts. "Professional." I set my plate down firmly.

 
    "I
think I've had enough of professiona l
for one evening," he growls. His eyes move up to my lips and rest there,
blatantly. He watches them, and I see him bit his own lip in reply.   "Remember what I told you in the
helicopter?"

 
    I am
panting in an instant. "Yes," I answer.

 
    "You
were listening?"

 
    "Yes."

 
    "Tell
me what I said."

 
    "You
said," I swallow hard. "You said you were going to watch me
eat."

 
    "And
then?"

 
    I gulp.
"And then you were going to eat me," I whisper.

 
    "Sanniyah?"

 
    "Yes,
Carter?"

 
    "I
hope you are done eating."

 
    My
voice fails me. I can only nod as he deliberately sets his plate down and steps
across the space between us. He crouches right in front of me, his