Chapter 11 - The Penthouse Suite In South Beach
Because of the severe storm warnings, all regional flights back to Chicago were grounded until Saturday afternoon.
Damian’s private security driver picked them up from the airfield and brought them to a luxury boutique hotel in South Beach.
Due to the coastal evacuations, the hotel was running on limited staff, leaving only one executive suite available on the top floor.
Ren stood in the center of the massive penthouse living room, taking in the wraparound balcony, marble floors, and ocean view.
“I’ll take the sofa in the living room,” Damian announced immediately, setting his suit jacket over a chair.
“You take the master bedroom, Ren.”
Ren looked at the massive leather sofa, then looked at Damian, who had been awake for twenty-four hours straight managing the crisis.
“Don't be ridiculous, Damian,” Ren said, walking over to the bedroom door.
“The bed is huge. It’s easily a king-size. We’re both adults, and we’re both completely exhausted.”
Damian stopped in his tracks, his grey eyes turning dark and intense as he stared at her across the dimly lit room.
“Ren,” Damian warned, his voice dropping an octave into a low, raspy tone.
“You have no idea how hard it has been for me to keep my hands off you for the last three months.”
“If I get into that bed with you tonight, I am not going to sleep.”
Ren felt a wave of liquid heat rush through her entire body, her breath catching in her throat at his complete, raw honesty.
May you like
She didn't step back toward the door; instead, she slowly unbuttoned the top button of her silk blouse, her green eyes fixed on his face.
“Who said anything about sleeping, Mr. Cole?” Ren whispered.
