“Anticipation. It does a body good.”

“Whatever you’re doing with your body is damn good.”

He laughs, his face bright with amusement. “Is that so?”

“We’ll talk more about it later. I want to go upstairs. Now.”

Callum leads me upstairs down another stunning white marble hallway to a closed door at the end. He takes me to some random bedroom, shuts the door, tugs off his tie, and I forget where in the world I am. Because that gesture—that simple act of his forearm pulling fabric from his body—has me hypnotized. He’s got the right idea. Less clothes, more skin.

“Wait.” I walk up to him. “I want to do the rest.”

A slow smile crawls across his lips, and his hands fall to the side. Button by button, I release him from the crisp cotton. The white falls away, leaving behind the light honey glow of his skin. I run a hand across his chest. It’s as deliciously firm as I dreamed it would be.

He raises a brow at me. “Don’t look so shocked. You’ve seen all this before.”

“I never got to touch you though.”

My gaze fixes on his stomach, which is taut with endless hard lines. My mind flashes back to how breathtaking he looked standing before me on the beach, seawater dripping down every naked inch of him.

He leans down for another kiss, our tongues tangling as I claw at his belt, then the zipper of his pants. They’re on the floor in a hot second, leaving him in burgundy boxer briefs that are snug enough to show off that impressive bulge I remember so well.

He squints down at me, chuckling. “You act like you’ve never seen me before.”

“Have you seen you?”

He walks me backward until the backs of my legs hit the bed. I plop down on the edge; he kneels before me. The movement causes a flashback to the very first sex dream I ever had about him. Him on his knees, his face between my thighs, driving me every kind of wild.

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he unbuttons my blouse. “You look like you want to say something.”

Am I that obvious? I shake my head, shivering when he slides the flowy fabric off of me, leaving me in a black lace bra. He leans in, scraping his teeth against the front of each cup. I hiss out a breath. The ache inside me pulses so strong, I have to clutch the mattress to cope. His mouth isn’t even on my skin yet, and already I’m going bonkers.

Slipping a hand behind my back, he flicks off my bra, tossing it to the side. Then his hands are on my jeans, and they’re on the floor in seconds.

He fixes his gaze to my breasts, and his eyes glaze over. “Fucking hell.”