Her stomach rolled, conflicting emotions struggling for control. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“Even if you just want to top him, love. God, that would be fucking sexy, sitting back and watching you work him over with a singletail, watching his ass dance as you mark him.”
She swore she felt his cock throb, even through his slacks. “Now I know what to get you for our first anniversary.”
“If I’m around.”
She glared at him. “Stop it. What’s one of our rules?”
He lifted his head and smiled. “Sorry, love.”
“Hmph. Might have to take a cane to your ass, you do that again. I don’t want to hear you talking like that.”
He kissed her before sitting up and releasing her hands. “Does it bother you that I’m fifteen years older than you?”
“No. Should it?”
He shrugged. “You’ll be married to an old man.”
“Okay, another damn rule—”
He laughed, cutting her off. “Let me guess. No talking myself down?”
“Bingo.”
“On one condition.”
“What?”
He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, tenderly, sensuously. “Tonight, we talk. Seriously. I feel badly that I could have easily done something yesterday that would have triggered bad memories and feelings for you. Cris didn’t talk to me about that aspect of your relationship. I want to get to know you like that.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” she softly said.
“Thank you, love.”
He tried on the suit when they picked it up.
“Rwooar!” she growled.
He laughed and turned to her from the three-way mirror. “I take it that’s approval?”
“Hell yeah!” He filled it out well, had the perfect body for it, broad shoulders tapering to a firm waist and super-tight ass. Shorter than Cris by a couple of inches in height, slightly beefier build but still trim. He looked damn good.
They arrived at Loren’s right on time. Loren threw the door open for them before they even made it up the walk.
“Wait’ll you see what I came up with!” she squealed, waving them in.
“Oh, boy,” Tilly muttered under her breath.
Landry softly chuckled as he squeezed her hand. “Steady, love. At least it’s only one day.”
“Thank god! I couldn’t handle weeks or months of her plans.” Loren led them to her dining room table, which was already covered with paperwork and brochures. “Holy crap, Lor! What the hell have you been doing?”
“Planning, duh. You think I’m letting you skate on this and doing nothing but a bowl of chips and dip and a box of cookies for refreshments, think again!”
Landry slid into a chair, amusement on his face. “I’ll stand by with my credit cards ready.”
Tilly glared at him. “Not helping. Besides, I’ll go dutch with you on it.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. She’d noticed that seemed to be a favorite facial expression of his.
“No, you won’t. I told you, I’m paying for all of this.”
She turned to face him, hands planted firmly on her hips. “I sense our first lover’s spat coming on.”
“I asked you to marry me. I sprang this on you. Trust me, caring for me while I’m puking my guts up from chemo is not a pretty picture. You’ll wish I’d paid for it all if you don’t let me do this.”
Loren punched her shoulder. “Listen to the guy, would you?”
She rubbed her shoulder. “Okay, again, ow! Would you please stop doing that? Why the hell are you punching me all of a sudden?”
“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” Landry chimed in.
She glared at him. “Sooo not helping.”
Loren laughed. “Tilly, as crazy as this is, I have to say I really do like this guy.”
“You just like him because he beats the crap out of Cris.”
“‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend,’” Loren quoted. “Am I right, Landry?”
He nodded. “‘If Hitler invaded Hell, I would make at least a favorable reference to the Devil in the House of Commons.’ Winston Churchill.”
Loren grinned. “Oooh, he’s rich, cute and smart!”
“Oui, Madame.”
Loren sighed. “And he speaks French. Fuuuck me, girlie, you landed a keeper and he’s gay.
What kind of luck do you have?”
“He is French, not just fluent in it. He’s also decided he’s homoflexible where I’m concerned.”
She winked at Landry. “By the way, just so you know, darling,” she told him, “Loren and I are BFFs, meaning she’ll be pounding on our front door Monday morning and wanting a status report from me about you in bed.”
Loren pretended to be offended. “No, I wouldn’t do that! I’d wait until after lunch, duh. Let you sleep in.”
Landry smiled, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. “Would it be easier to give you a demonstration with her right here and now?”
Tilly glared at him again. “I feel a new rule coming on, dude.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I know, I know. Sit there, shut up, and keep the plastic handy.”
Loren happily sighed again. “And he’s a ‘yes, dear’ Dom. Fuck me, you lucky bitch. And yes, I do want a status report on Monday.”
“He’s not my Dom, he’s my fiancé.”
Loren waved her off. “Yeah, whatever, we need to decide this stuff now so I can get everything ordered ASAP. Butter cream or cream cheese frosting on your cake?”
Tilly wondered how many people ran up a two thousand dollar tab with Publix for last-minute wedding and reception plans. Loren rode with them to the store close to her house and they went over everything with the bakery and deli managers, who were more than happy to oblige when Landry produced his American Express Centurion card to pay for everything.
Loren grabbed his hand, her jaw gaping. “Holy fuck!” she said, awestruck, then looked at Tilly.
She held his hand, which still held the Amex card. She shook his hand at Tilly. “Do you know what the fuck this is?”
“It’s a credit card.”
Landry looked amused but remained quiet. Tilly didn’t fail to notice he never so much as blinked in shock when the total was announced.
“It’s a black Amex, babe. That’s what they call them.” She stared at Landry. “How the hell did you get one of these? This is a fucking Centurion!”
“I know. I do work for some very elite and wealthy clients. I charge well for my services.”
“Lor, let go of his hand. You’re drooling on the man.”
“I’ve only seen one of these before, when I worked at the Ritz Carlton. A movie star had one.”
Loren spent several years as a manager at that and other high-end resorts before Ross’ business took off and she could stay home full time. Her specialty was acting as a private concierge to the rich and famous who visited Sarasota, especially during the hectic film festival week. “Unbefuckinglievable.”
She let go of his hand and looked at Tilly. “Do you have any clue how much money you have to have to be offered one of those puppies?”
Tilly didn’t reply because she honestly didn’t know. Landry handed the card to the bakery manager so she could get everything rung up. “Yes,” Landry said. “A lot.” He looked at Tilly and winked.
She stifled her laughter.
Landry offered to unload Tilly’s SUV at Loren’s house and sent the women inside while he did.
Loren snagged Tilly’s arm. “Three years, huh? Not a bad deal. I can see why you agreed. He’s a sweetheart.”