Any Way You Want It (Brand Clan #2)(63)
But when she emerged from the bathroom in nothing more than pink lace lingerie and racy six-inch stilettos, all traces of humor vanished from his face. He stared at her with naked hunger as she slinked over to him, breasts bouncing softly from the cups of her sheer bra.
“My God,” he whispered.
“What’s wrong?” Glancing innocently down at her body, Zandra feigned shock at discovering herself unclothed.
“Oops,” she breathed in her best sex-kitten voice. “Looks like I forgot something.”
Remy’s eyes darkened.
Zandra gave him a coquettish smile and winked, then turned and sashayed back toward the bathroom. She didn’t get very far before Remy grabbed her from behind, making her squeal with laughter as he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. He lowered her to the mattress, his body following hers as he peeled her panties down her legs and over her stilettos.
“See, woman, I tried to be good, but you just had to be bad.”
Zandra grinned as he unzipped his pants. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Neither can I,” he whispered, staring into her eyes as he sank into her moist flesh and shuddered. “Neither can I.”
Eventually they made their way out of bed and ventured out to explore the city. Since they’d gotten a late start, Zandra knew they would only have time to see a few things in order to keep their dinner reservation. But that was fine with her. They had four more days to spend together, and she intended to savor every moment.
Strolling hand in hand, they wandered from place to place enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of London.
At St. Paul’s Cathedral, they spent time gazing up at the dome’s interior and marveling at the stunning monochromatic mural. Then Zandra led Remy by the hand up to the Whispering Gallery. Taking advantage of the dome’s unusual acoustics, they whispered romantic messages to each other that could be heard on the opposite side of the mezzanine level. This lasted until Remy’s sweet nothings turned raunchy. Breathless with laughter, Zandra raced around and grabbed him, hustling him out of the historic place of worship before they got struck by lightning.
Still in a playful mood, they headed to Trafalgar Square and laughingly frolicked in the fountain, earning amused stares and smiles from passersby. Before their antics could draw attention from the boys in blue, they left and strolled to a popular adult store in Waterloo.
They roamed from one level to another, browsing through a kinky array of costumes, lubricants and sex toys. Remy followed close behind Zandra, licking the nape of her neck and sending sensual shivers through her as she handled nipple clamps, cock rings, leather handcuffs, dildos and vibrators.
“I’m gonna f*ck you so good later tonight,” he murmured in her ear.
“Oh, my,” Zandra breathed as her nipples hardened and cream thickened between her thighs. “You are such a naughty boy, Remington Brand.”
“And you love it.”
She smiled wickedly. “You know I do.”
By the time they left the store armed with a bag of goodies, she was more excited than ever about the erotic adventure she had planned for them tomorrow night.
As dusk fell, they stood on the banks of the Thames kissing and cuddling as they watched the city’s bright lights streak across the gently rippling water.
Afterward they returned to the hotel, showered and donned evening wear for dinner at Clos Maggiore, an upscale French restaurant nestled in the heart of Covent Garden. They were seated inside the enchanting conservatory, which boasted an open fireplace and lush greenery beneath a twinkling canopy of starlight. It was breathtakingly romantic, with a warm summer breeze wafting over the candlelit tables and piped music playing subtly in the background.
As they dined on roasted venison fillet and succulent Charolais beef, they talked and laughed companionably. Zandra teased Remy by reeling off an exhaustive list of places they would visit and things they would do during their stay. Afternoon tea at The Ritz, tours of the National Gallery and Tower of London, a speedboat ride down the Thames, a sunset dinner on the top of Primrose Hill, the London Ghost Walk to retrace the steps of Jack the Ripper.
Remy listened with quiet amusement as she shared her fondest memories of the four years she’d resided in London. She left out any mention of Heath because she didn’t want to risk making Remy jealous, and thinking about Heath reminded her of the things he’d said about her secret feelings for Remy. Feelings she’d hidden from herself for so long.
She didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts any more than she already had. So she pushed them aside and focused on the here and now.
After the main course, she and Remy were served a lavender-infused crème br?lée and a decadent chocolate tiramisu. As they tasted each other’s rich desserts and groaned, Zandra slipped off her stiletto heels and ran her bare toes up and down Remy’s strong calf, enjoying the fine wool texture of his suit pants.
He smiled, slow and heart-stoppingly sexy. “Why, Miss Kennedy, are you playing footsie with me?” The words were teasing, but his deep voice was husky with arousal.
“I think so,” she purred. “I’ve never done it before.”
“Never done what?”
“Played footsie. Can you believe that?”
His eyes darkened. “Well, you’re doing one helluva job.”
Zandra smiled demurely and sipped her red wine, glancing around at the other diners. Satisfied that no one was paying attention to them, she slid her foot up Remy’s leg to his hard, muscled thigh.