vibrating against her skin.
Sara whimpered. She was just as greedy. She wanted to finish what they’d started last night, what they’d started here as soon as they got their hands on each other. She was lowering her hands to his jeans when he lifted his head.
“Breakfast,” he ordered raggedly, lifting her off his lap and setting her in the chair beside him. “You said breakfast. And no, they don’t do that at Franco’s, but I don’t think I can tell you more just yet. I only have so much willpower, Sara.”
He served them from the silver trays, putting food on her plate and filling her glass with mimosas Javier had left in a glass pitcher on the table, and Sara couldn’t stop staring at him. Dean had more willpower than she did. The fact that he’d stopped was proof of that. She’d felt his erection, could see that his eyes were glittering with need and his movements were tense. Restrained. Why?
He was used to restraining himself, she answered her own question. Buttoned up in a suit with his nose to the company grindstone. She might have decided to take a vacation but Dean had the look of a man who needed one. Despite his wealth and status, despite the gossip about his conquests, she’d gotten a firsthand glimpse of all the bottled-up passion he was holding onto so tightly. She shivered, already knowing after last night and this morning what it would be like if he popped the cork.
Dean Warren needed the prescription she’d already given to herself—uncomplicated X-rated fun. And God knew she needed more of what he did to her. As much of it and as often as she could get it. She wanted to be the one to help him find his release. The thought was beyond tempting. Beyond arousing. And there were so many reasons why it was a bad idea.
Late last night she’d thought it was a brilliant plan, but she’d decided it wouldn’t work. The main sticking points were that they hardly knew each other and he might not agree. The first she could get around. The second she didn’t want to think about, which was why she had definitely decided not to bring it up.
The tic along his temple and his controlled movements made her change her mind again. “I’ve been thinking about skipping the tropical island for my month off.”
He paused as he was ladling some delicious-looking sauce over her eggs. “Oh?”
“Mmm-hmm. Of course, the other vacation option involves you, so I thought we should discuss it to see if you were interested before I made my final decision.” She glanced down at her plate. “Strawberries and cinnamon? How did you know?”
His hazel eyes remained focused on her intently. “Discuss what?”
“My new vacation plan,” she reminded him patiently, her heart pounding in her ears. “After my first Hummer experience last night, I realized there are several things I’ve never done before that I’d love to try a heck of a lot more than windsurfing.”
“What kind of things, Sara?” His voice had that sexy rasp she was starting to love.
“Sexual things.” She popped a strawberry into her mouth and groaned, feeling hopeful when he didn’t look away. “Fantasies. As in fulfilling them, preferably with an open-minded and energetic partner. You brought up the article that made me think of it, and you also mentioned you were good at deep tissue massage, so of course you were the first person that came to mind. Are you?” She swallowed again, reaching for her mimosa. “Interested?”
“Am I a man? Am I breathing?” he responded so quickly she smiled.
“Let’s find out.” She set her glass down again and shrugged off her robe so it pooled at her waist before reaching for another strawberry. Dean swore. Loudly. “Yes. You appear to be breathing in a very manly fashion.”
It was never a bad idea to promote your positive assets, her inner devil insisted. Put your best foot—or breast, in this case—forward before negotiations begin. “Let me tell you about my rules before you