One Weekend with the Billionaire novel Chapter 37

Making love to Julia in her art room was one of the most erotic events of my life. I’ve never been with a woman on a stool before. Having her legs wrapped around me as I filled her completely, balancing on that small piece of furniture, was amazing. Julia excites me and brings me to life unlike anyone I’ve ever been with, and I almost want to forgo dinner, sweep her into my arms, and carry her into the master bedroom where we can writhe in each other’s arms until dawn.

Instead, after we are dressed, I take her hand and lead her to the dining room--not the formal dining room with the extra-large table that comfortably seats twenty-four. I am not that eccentric. Instead, I take her to the smaller dining room right off of the kitchen where I have asked the chefs to prepare our dinner. It is a different room than we ate breakfast in. I hope that she finds it cozy. I feel that, with the comfort food we are eating, it makes sense to be in a cozier setting where we can sit next to one another. I know that I won’t be able to keep my hands off of her, though. We had better eat fast.

Our plates are filled with chicken and dumplings under cloches as we sit and move our chairs close to one another. The chefs have made sure that the candle in the middle of the table is lit, so even though this is the meal that reminds Julia of her grandmother and back home, it is still romantic. We remove the silver covers from our plates, and Julia inhales deeply. "This smells divine," she says as a servant takes the cloches from us.

"It should be," I tell her, knowing my chefs. We put our napkins in our laps and dig in. Our plates also have homemade rolls that smell wonderful. I lather mine with butter and take a bite. For a moment, I am no longer in a rush to get through this meal in order to devour the woman next to me, but only for a moment.

We do not talk much as we eat, only making small talk about how the food as we swallow it down. I don’t feel that I’m eating any faster than normal, but I probably am. Even a hurried meal with Julia is better than a normal meal with anyone else.

Once we are done, our plates nearly clean, a decadent chocolate mousse is set before us. Julia puts a hand on her stomach. "I don’t know if I can eat another bite, but this looks so good!"

"It’s one of your favorites, isn’t it?"

"It is," she says, looking at me strangely, as if she’s not sure how I know that.

"You mentioned it last night over dinner," I remind her. She doesn’t remember saying it, but it’s true. I have filed away everything she has told me about herself so that I can surprise her as often as possible and make her as happy as possible. The way her smile lights up her entire face, as it is now, and I have to pause and breathe her in, filling my lungs with her scent, filling my mind with everything that is my beautiful Julia.

"Is there anything in particular you’d like to do tomorrow?" I ask her.

"Not that I can think of," she says, savoring a bite of the mousse which is just as good as it looks. "Do you have anything in mind?"

I shrug. "I have a few ideas."