So three hours, some food, and another margarita later, I walk him back to the gangplank to say goodbye.
He hugs me tightly, and every part of me wants to keep him on the ship, but I’m also aware that I need space and perspective. And I think he does too.
He backs up enough so he can see me without going cross-eyed. He cups my cheeks in his palms, eyes soft and sad. “I’ll talk to you in two weeks?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll miss you until then.”
“Same.”
His fingers start to slide along my jaw as he takes a slow step back. I realize he’s not going to make a move, respecting my boundaries and all that. So I wrap a palm around the back of his neck, tip my head up, and pull his mouth to mine.
He hesitates for a second before his lips part and his tongue finds mine. It’s like riding a kissing bike. It takes all of two seconds before we’re locked in an embrace, trying to devour each other. Griffin groans into my mouth, and I make a complementary sound. He splays a hand over my low back and pulls me in tighter.
Yeah, it was definitely a good idea to avoid taking him on a tour of my room, otherwise we would’ve ended up naked.
Someone clears their throat and someone else coughs, reminding me that we’re trying to climb inside each other’s mouths with an audience. I’m the one who breaks the kiss and backs up. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He’s still holding onto my hip, thumb rubbing back and forth over the thin strip of bare skin. “I wanted to do that for the past four hours.”
“It sort of sends mixed signals, though.” Also, it’s not very professional, seeing as I was making out with him in front of people I work with and guests on the ship. Hopefully none of my bosses witnessed that.
“I’m okay with mixed signals.”
I duck my head and bang it against his chest once, breathing him in on a low chuckle. “I want this with you, but I’m scared.”
“I know. It’s why I’m okay with the mixed signals. I like that you won’t jump back in with two feet; it tells me you’re not taking any of this lightly.”
The warning alarms sound to let us know we’re leaving port soon. “You have to go.”
“I’ll hear from you when you arrive in New York?”
“Yes.”
“Fair warning: You’ll probably have a million messages from me between now and then.”
“I hope they come in out of order so nothing makes sense.”
He dips down to kiss me one more time, and then he disappears down the plank.
My heart already aches with his absence, and I worry that all I’m doing is setting myself up to have it broken all over again somewhere down the line.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Port Promises
Griffin
Over the past two weeks, I’ve done all the required paperwork to purchase the Vegas hotel, and we’re setting up a renovation schedule. I’ve also negotiated a deal with my father that between the Vegas project completion and my next venture, which will take me out to Costa Rica, I get to stay in New York for a couple of months. I have a plan for me and Cosy, should we work out, and I need time to execute it without screwing things up. Again.
Cosy’s arriving in New York today. As a result, I’ve taken the next two days off work. I’ll need the time, no matter what her decision. Fingers crossed she wants the same thing I do.
Instead of waiting for Cosy to call, I head for the pier an hour before she’s scheduled to disembark. The boat is already docked, so I hang out close to the gangplank, anticipating her appearance.
My phone rings as I spot her coming off the ship, her own phone at her ear and her friend Earl at her side.
I answer the call before the first ring is even finished. “Hi.”
“Hey.” She bites her lip and smiles, which earns a comment from Earl. Whatever he said makes her elbow him in the side.
“You’re in New York.”
“I am.” She twists a lock of hair around her finger, growing closer with every step.
“Can I come meet you?”
“Sure. I have a flight tonight at six back to Vegas, though.”
“I’ll make sure you get to the airport on time.” I already know her flight details. I’ve also checked in, via Nev, as to whether she has to be back right away. If she wants, she can spend a couple of days here. I need to find out where she’s at before I propose extending her stay, though.
She reaches the end of the gangplank and gives Earl a raised eyebrow and a thumbs-up. “Okay. Where should I meet you?” She rolls her eyes at Earl when he makes some random hand gestures I can’t see but can guess at.
“Under the Parking Lot B sign.”
She scans the pier, eyes snagging on the sign, then dropping to where I’m standing. “Your stalker status is at an all-time high, Mr. Mills.”
“It’s called efficiency and hopefulness, Miss Felton.”
“You should retire from being an heir to a hotel empire and take up professional stalking instead.”
“You should tell your sister not to listen to hotel heirs or take money from them for information.”
She ends the call and hugs Earl, who waves at me from behind her back, then gives me the I’m watching you signal.
I stay where I am, because as much as I want to go to her, I know I need to let her come to me. Earl disappears into the crowd. Honestly he could jump off the pier and I wouldn’t notice because my eyes are glued to Cosy as she slips between families wheeling their luggage toward the parking lot. All Cosy has is an oversize travel knapsack. She’s wearing a pair of torn-up jeans that conform to every single dip and curve of her lean legs and a hoodie with cartoon bacon and eggs holding hands.
When she reaches me, she shrugs off the knapsack and drops it on my foot. It’s damn heavy, but I fight the grimace. “Hi.”
“How much did you pay my sister this time?”
“The disembarking information was included in the original bribe.”
Cosy rolls her eyes. “She’s such an amateur. Doesn’t she realize how much she could’ve milked you for if she’d doled the information out slowly? By the time she was through with you, she could’ve had a brand new car.”
I don’t mention the fact that I wired her sister another two grand to find out what time her flight was leaving tonight and when she absolutely needed to be home by. Or that I’ve booked her a first-class ticket on the last possible flight to meet that particular deadline. “Here’s hoping she’ll spend the money on something useful.”
“That’s highly unlikely.” She steps in closer, until her chest almost meets mine. “You’re here.”
“For you, yes.” I slip an arm around her waist, but I don’t tug her closer.
“I’ve never been to New York before.”
“What do you want to see the most?” Obviously the first and only place I’d like to take her is my penthouse, but since this isn’t about me, my wants take a back seat.
“Lady Liberty, the Empire State Building, a play on Broadway, for starters.” She slides her hands up my chest, clasping her fingers behind my neck. “But most all, I want to see you.”
The noise of the crowd dulls to a faint buzz as she tips her head up and tugs on the back of my neck. I bend to meet her, pulling her in tighter against me as our lips meet and the rest of the world ceases to exist. I tug her hood up to cover her face and part of mine, as we stand there for far longer than is socially acceptable, kissing in public. By the time we part lips, the crowd has thinned to a trickle.
I thread my fingers through hers. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat. I bet you’re sick of ship food.”
“I haven’t had a decent diner burger in six whole weeks. Tell me you can hook a girl up?”
The first place I take her is one of the best, classiest crappy diners I know. Despite it being breakfast hours, they make a concession, and Cosy orders herself a burger and onion rings, but holds the raw onions on the actual burger, which seems like a good sign
. Afterward, I take her to the Empire State Building, and we visit the Statue of Liberty. By the time we’re done, it’s already two in the afternoon.
She climbs into the back of the waiting car. “What next?” I ask as I slide in beside her.
She bites her bottom lip as she checks the time on her phone. “We don’t have a lot of time for much else.”
“Not if you’re planning on leaving at six, no.” I hit the button for the divider and the driver glances briefly in the rearview mirror before returning his gaze to the windshield. As soon as it’s closed, I turn to Cosy. I don’t get a word out before her mouth is glued to mine.
I sink into the kiss, but when her hands go to my belt, I still them and pull back.
Cosy frowns and her eyes go wide. “He can’t hear or see us, can he?”
“No, but I have a suggestion.”
“If it isn’t about having car sex before I leave for Vegas, I don’t want to hear it.”
“What if my suggestion means we could have comfortable sex, not in a car, and have it more than once.”
That gets her attention. “Go on.”
“You don’t need to be back to Vegas until Monday. You could stay in New York for a few days; we could have more time together.”
“But my ticket’s already paid for.”
I point to my chest. “Billionaire heir, remember? I can buy you a new one. I can actually buy you your own jet, but I don’t think you’d appreciate that, so maybe you’ll settle for a plane ticket and a few days in New York with me instead?”
She’s still chewing her lip. “Where will I stay?”
“With me if you want, and if you’re not comfortable with that, I can set you up in a private suite in my building. Or a hotel close by. Whatever you want, Cosy. I just want more time with you, clothed and naked. I’d also like to take you to a Broadway play, but we’re currently under a bit of a time constraint.”
“You don’t need to rent me a suite.”
“New York is stupidly expensive. You’re not footing the bill yourself.”
She arches a brow. “Hostels are cheap.”
“You’re staying in a hostel over my dead fucking body.” That comes out way more aggressively than I mean it to.
That arched brow rises higher. “Do you think I stayed in penthouse suites on my trips across the US?”
“You told me you slept in your car, with mace.”
“Sometimes. Or tents if there was a campground, and if I was feeling glamorous, I’d splurge on a hostel.” There’s a challenge in her tone.
The thought of a twenty-year-old Cosy checking into a hostel in her short shorts makes me pretty much homicidal. However, that kind of reaction isn’t going to go over all that well, so I tone down my rebuttal.
“I understand if staying with me is too much too soon for you, but I’d at least like you close by, in the same building if at all possible. If you’re staying, that is.”
“I’ll stay.”
“I’ll get you a room, then.” I pull out my phone slowly, hoping she’s going to stop me from making the call.
She covers my hand with hers. “With you, I mean. I’ll stay with you. It’s a waste of money to get me a room when you know you’re going to convince me to stay at your place anyway.”
I give the driver the go-ahead to take us home. When we pull up to my building, I have to do some serious rearranging to avoid anyone noticing the issues in my pants. Cosy thought the best way to pass the car ride was to make out. I’m about done with the foreplay bullshit.
As soon as the elevator doors close, I’m all over her.
“Wait, aren’t there cameras in here?” Cosy asks as I press her against the mirrored glass.
I kiss up the side of her neck. I missed the shit out of her. “My family owns the building. I’ll make sure they erase the feed.”
She pushes me in the chest, firmly enough that I pull back. “You are so freaking entitled, it’s ridiculous.” Thankfully she looks mostly amused rather than annoyed by my entitlement.
She’s probably right. I’m very used to getting what I want when I ask for it, except with her. It never crossed my mind that telling the security guys to erase the feed from our time in the elevator was anything but reasonable. But what I failed to consider is that making out with Cosy in an elevator objectifies her, so I unwrap myself from around her and behave the rest of the ride.
I fully expect to resume making out as soon as we’re in my penthouse, but that’s not quite what happens.
Cosy drops her knapsack on the floor and turns in a slow circle before she finally comes to a stop facing me. “So, this is your pad?”
I shove my hands in my pockets. This almost feels like the first time you show someone your dick and are waiting for a reaction, something like “oh, wow.”
“Yes. This is my place.”
She does an about-face and heads for the kitchen. She peeks in the cupboards and makes a stop at the fridge. I follow behind her, not sure exactly how to take her inspection. She closes the fridge, gives me a look, and heads down the hall. She peeks in the bathroom, but keeps going until she reaches my bedroom.
She doesn’t need a light since there are candles all over the place, and rose petals, and champagne. I had the building concierge set it up this morning and someone came up to light the candles when we were on our way back here. I expect her to be impressed. As she spins around, her soles squeak on the hardwood floor, and she plants her fists on her hips. “How long have you lived here?”
“Less than a year.”
She motions to the bed, which is littered with fresh rose petals, then to the rest of the room. “Where the hell are you?”
I look down at myself, not sure I understand. “I’m right here.”
Cosy rolls her eyes. “I don’t mean your physical self. I mean, where is all your personality? It’s like a show home. There’s literally nothing out of place and nothing that gives me any indication that you actually inhabit this space. Also, this room is huge. You could throw a dance party in here.”
“I’m not here very much.”
“Tomorrow we’re going on an interior-decorating mission,” Cosy declares. “This place is so sterile, it reminds me of that movie with the psycho.”
“What movie?”
“The one where Christian Bale is a narcissist and kills a girl he slept with by throwing a chainsaw down a staircase.”
“Why the hell would you watch a movie like that?”
“To remind myself that sometimes pretty men are psychos.”
“I’m not a psycho. I just haven’t had a lot of time to devote to personalizing this place since I’ve been out of state since I bought the place.”
“Which was how long ago?”
“Right after my last relationship ended.” There was no way I wanted to stay in the place Imogen and I shared. Since then, I’ve spent more time out of New York than in it. Personal touches seemed irrelevant.
Cosy does the math. “Oh.”
“Tomorrow we can go art shopping and buy some knickknacks that you think best represent me.” I slip my arm around her waist. “But tonight all I want to do is focus on you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Tower of Mills Men
Cosy
We spend the night reacquainting ourselves while naked. In the morning we eat cereal for breakfast, then shower together, which leads to more sex. I discover that Griffin has already gone out and bought everything he ever remembers seeing in my bathroom. There’s also a section of his closet dedicated to clothes for me, and I have a dresser drawer full of underwear and lingerie. That leads to a fashion show, and of course, still more sex.
It’s noon by the time we leave his place. “I have somewhere I want to take you before we go knickknack shopping, is that okay?”
“Sure. Wanna tell me where?” I ask as I buckle myself in.
Griffin has his own driver here, so we’re both in the back seat. He calls out an address to the driver, who disappears a fe
w seconds later behind the divider.
“It’s a surprise.” He unbuckles my seat belt.
“What’re you doing?”
“It’ll take half an hour to get there.” He nuzzles into my neck.
“Whoa.” I push on his chest. “I appreciate your interest in keeping me entertained, but my girl parts need more than an hour of recovery time before you get in there and work your magic on me again.”
He backs up a few inches and cups his hands between my thighs. I should keep them shut, but it’s like he compels them open. “Are you sore?”
I bat his hand away. It’s a pretty pathetic attempt, but at least I make one. “We’ve had sex twenty times in the past twenty-four hours. Muscles ache that I didn’t even know I had.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just give me a few more hours and maybe a nice long bath when we get back to your place, and then we can start round twenty-one.”
Instead of having car sex, Griffin points out all the Mills hotels and condos on the way to wherever we’re going. There are a lot.
We pass the Moorehead building. “Ohh! That’s one of the major media companies in the city, isn’t it?”
Griffin grunts. “My cousin Lincoln’s family owns it.”
“You two are close, right?”
“Yeah. It’s too bad he’s not in town. I think you’d like him.”
“Hopefully I’ll get to meet him one day soon.”
“He’s back in Guatemala for the foreseeable future, but I’m sure you’ll meet him eventually.”
A few minutes later, we stop at a glass-fronted building. Griffin helps me out, and I smooth my dress down. It’s bright blue with a yellow canary print. The hem falls an inch above my knee, keeping it classy. I glance at the name etched into the glass. “The Mills Tower? Your family has a tower?”
“This is where I work when I’m in New York. I thought you might want to check it out.”
“Oh my God! Yes!” I yell and throw my arms around Griffin. It draws the attention of several people passing by on the sidewalk, but he doesn’t seem to care.
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