Thanks to my heels, I don't have to stand on my tiptoes to reach him. Leaning in, I press my stained lips to his, the prickly fine hairs of his mustache are like sharp little knives on my skin that only heightens his touch. The urge to feel his lips on mine after the way he spoke from his heart is too strong to deny. Sometimes a kiss is more intimate than sex and creates a deeper connection by way of showing love for someone.

I expect his hand to cup my ass and give me a rough squeeze, like I know he loves to do, but James surprises me. Pressing his body to me, his thick tongue strokes over mine and tugs as his hand drags down to my sex. I gasp around his kiss and tense from the blitz of need assaulting me in all the right ways. My skin is tingling from head to toe. James slips his hand beneath my robe and slip and cups my pussy, making sure one of his fingers is painfully teasing my entrance while there's pressure on my clit. I grind against his hand, aching for more already. I love when James's control is unforgiving, how he knows exactly how to touch me to make me weak for him. How to make me melt in his hands.

I grip his shoulders. "James." His name is a prayer on my lips. "I need you."

His kiss is deep and slow and leaves me breathless. There's nothing like a man who appreciates sex but gets total gratification in making his partner feel good too. James is that man.

"We have twelve minutes until we leave. Turn around and bend over. We don't have time for you to get fixed up again, and I don't have another pair of tux pants."

"We can wait until after," I suggest with a flirtatious glint in my eyes. "Allow the temptation to build."

"Too late for that, sweetheart."

"I love the way your mind works."

Grabbing my jaw, James growls then plunges his tongue into my mouth for a quick kiss. "It's going to be so good, sweetheart."

"The best twelve minutes of my life."

Twenty-One

"You look beautiful," James whispers. "I know I never got to meet your grandmother, but I'd bet my life's work she's looking down on you and smiling, proud of you the way I am and what you have become."

We're sitting in a room with a few hundred people illuminated by chic chandeliers that shimmer like diamonds under water. His words were low and only meant for me to hear. Swallowing thickly, I turn to look at him, a tint of blush colors my cheeks. He's holding my hand as the names of the four honorees are being called, including mine. I still can’t believe I’m among the women being honored tonight when there are others just as worthy, maybe even more than me. My thumb strokes over the top of his hand as I gaze into his eyes. I love this man so much. I just hope he knows that.