It was well past twilight when dinner was wheeled into their suite on a silver tray. They had returned late from a day of sightseeing.
Dylan poured them each a glass of white wine as Olivia sank into the chair across from him, still glowing from the day's adventures.
"I hope you're satisfied," he said, handing her the glass and studying her face. "Want to see more of the city tomorrow?"
She swirled the wine, her lips curling into a playful smile. "I'm more than satisfied. But tomorrow… tomorrow is for something else."
He raised a brow. "Oh?"
She got up, walked over to him slowly, and then straddled him in his chair, her dress sliding up her thighs as she settled on his lap. Her fingers trailed along the collar of his shirt.
"It's the last day. I want it to be about you. About us," she said, her voice low. "No tours, no guides. Just me doing naughty, naughty things to you."
