She grins. “You always loved getting your nipples touched, licked . . . flicked.”

I place my hands behind my head to prop myself up a bit more. “Yeah, what else did I like?”

“What didn’t you like?” She rolls her eyes dramatically, the moon casting sufficient light so I can discern her facial expressions. “You were a champion of all things in the bed. You even let me strap that vibrator on you that one time.” She leans forward and whispers, “Remember you came so hard, you got cum in your eye?”

“Yeah, and remember when I said that was to never be repeated again?”

She shrugs. “It’s best you know that I’ve told Nichole that story at least three times.”

“Is that why she calls me a pirate?”

Myla lets out a roar of a laugh and nods. “Yes.” When I don’t laugh with her, she drags her fingernails over my chest—another thing she knows I like. “Please, as if you’ve never told Banner anything embarrassing about me.”

“Never,” I reply.

“You’re such a liar.” Her nail passes over my nipple, and I let out a short hiss.

“Myla, I’m drunk, but not drunk enough to get hard, so stop it.”

She chuckles again and then gets off my lap. She stands above me and holds her hand out, so I take it, and she helps me to my feet.

“Your shirt is all disheveled,” she says.

“Want to tuck it back in for me?” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

“I’m okay. Thanks for the offer, though.” She takes my hand, and we walk back up the hill, me supporting her as she does it in heels. When we reach the top, she says, “I need to get out of this romper and this strapless bra, or I might die.”

“Want me to take it off for you right now?” I ask. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” she says from over her shoulder as she walks away, pulling my hand with her.

I really would.

So fucking bad.

I would also like to peel that romper off.

Find out what kind of underwear she’s wearing only to peel that off as well.

“You’re quiet,” she says as we make it back to the hotel and the elevators. “Have you lost your voice?”

“Not even a little,” I say. “Just thinking inappropriate things.”

“Oh, are those things about me?”

“Always, babe,” I answer, squeezing her hand.

“Such a charmer.” She presses the up button and then twirls into me, her hand to my chest. “When we get in our room, I’m ripping these clothes off, so I hope you’re ready.”

“You are?” I ask, eyebrows up to my hairline. “What, uh, what do you plan on doing after you take your clothes off?”

“Snuggling into my pillow and passing out of course. What did you think I was going to do?” The elevator dings, and she pulls me in with her.

“I don’t know. I mean, if you need a massage or anything, just let me know. I’m your guy.”