Brothers of Paradise Series

“Only if you want to,” I murmur, my hand squeezing around hers.

She squeezes back. “I do.”

I swallow at the dryness of my throat. It’s been years since I’ve been this turned on, anticipated the first time with a woman this much. And I need to go slow-to remember the role I have to play. She wants a safe space to explore in.

Ivy gets looks when we walk into the restaurant too. She ignores them, like she so often does, but leans in to murmur something. “Do you notice how people look at you?”

I put down my menu. “Me? They’re looking at you.”

She smiles down at the list of dumplings. “Some are, but not all. You could be a model too. I know that’s not a compliment in your book, but it’s true.”

I snort. “Right.”

“It’s true.” And then she reaches up with her phone and snaps a picture of me, sitting there in my shirt and slacks, a menu in hand. She grins as she lowers it. “Two can play this game.”

I shake my head at her, but the conversation pauses as the waitress arrives. She picks it right up after, though. “I thought about it,” she murmurs. “When you were photographing me with Paolo.”

It’s petty, but my mouth sours at the mention of the Italian model. “Thought about what?”

“How the roles could have been reversed. That I could have been sitting and making pretty eyes at you instead.”

All right.

I’m okay with discussing Paolo if this is what we speak of.

“I thought about it too,” I admit.

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“Oh yes.”

Ivy’s smile turns crooked, and then I feel a silky leg settle next to mine beneath the table. “You said something else last night… or was it the night before?”

“Time is irrelevant on this trip,” I say. “I’ve changed the time zone on my watch more times than I can count.”

“Well, you said that you’d fantasized about… well.” She glances around, but the tables next to us are empty. “Taking off my underwear.”

I grin. “Yeah.”

“What else have you fantasized about doing?”

I shake my head. “We’re not doing this.”

“We’re not?”

“No, for two reasons. First,” I say, raising my chopsticks at her, “this is about you and not about me. Your fantasy, not mine.”

Her cheeks color, but she doesn’t look away from my gaze. “I want you to enjoy yourself too.”

“Christ, Ivy, there’s no chance I won’t.”

“Good.” She nods. “What’s the second reason?”

I lean across the table, watching her long, dark eyelashes flutter. The strength in her eyes giving way to unexpected softness. “We need to make it out of here and back to the hotel while remaining decent. And if we start talking about my fantasies…”

Her lips fall open, her eyes darting down to mine. Fuck, but she wants me to kiss her. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to oblige to a woman’s request more than hers.

“Eat your dumplings,” I say, trying to focus on my own. “We’ll leave as soon as we’re done.”

She smiles down at her food, looking up at me every now and then as the both of us clear our plates. Something’s different with her hair-they’ve straightened it, perhaps? It falls long and silky around her face, none of the usual playful curls.

An image comes to mind. Ivy lying on her stomach in bed, naked with a cheeky grin on her face, clad in nothing but her long hair and a smile. I’d make it black and white in the edit.

It feels like it takes forever to make it back to the hotel. Ivy’s hand finds mine in the car, and she holds on tightly. It’s been a long time since I’ve held hands with a woman like this, but with her… Fuck, but it feels right. Everything about this does.

Her foot taps against the elevator floor as we race upwards to our rooms. I nudge her with my shoulder, ignoring the other couple in the elevator. “Nervous again?”

“Never,” she murmurs, but her tapping stops.

Either by unspoken agreement or simple layout, it’s my hotel door we stop outside of. I hold it open for her and she steps past me on high heels and confidence. The city is a sky of lights through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the air hums with possibility.

I close the door behind us.

Rhys

“You know,” I tell her, heading toward the minibar, “I don’t know how to compliment you.”

She sits down on the edge of the giant bed. “You don’t?”

“No.” I open the fridge and pull out the bottle of champagne I’d called up earlier while she was getting ready.

“That seems like a curious problem to have.”

I uncork it in one smooth motion. “Well, you’ve told me that you’re tired of men fawning over you. I’m sure you’re complimented every day, all the time, in ways that are… insincere. Is that true?”

Ivy accepts the glass I hand her, me standing, her sitting. She nods slowly. “I suppose that’s true, yes.”

“And you told me that’s why you haven’t felt comfortable doing this with someone.”

She wets her lips. “Part of it, yes. Don’t forget expectations.”

“Expectations, yes.” I nod. “I won’t forget that. But you see, I do find you deeply attractive, and I’d enjoy letting you know just how much. But I’ll refrain if it makes you feel… uncomfortable.”

Ivy shakes her head slowly. “It won’t. Not from you.”

“Mhm.” I take a sip to hide the smile that wants to break out. “And regarding expectations, Ivy?”

She nods. Recrosses her legs. “What about them?”