Love & Conditions (New York Billionaires Book 2)

41| Wine

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

Wine

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Chapter 41: Wine (Christian's POV)

Resisting a groan and squinting my eyes open, I sighed as Jules's alarm constantly buzzed on the nightstand. 

"Christian," she scolded sleepily, elbowing me. 

"You have got to stop setting these alarms if you won't turn them off yourself," I grumbled, leaning over her and furiously tapping the 'stop' button until the sound ceased. 

She didn't respond and lay there, humming absentmindedly and trying to go back to sleep. 

"We have to get downstairs, Milaya," I said, dropping my head back onto the pillow, rolling over to face her, and draping an arm over her waist, going back into the position I slept in. 

"I'm tired," she mumbled, grabbing my hand and throwing it off. 

Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I put my arm back around her and this time grabbed her hand, holding it firmly in mine. 

"You're unbelievable," she chuckled softly, "you act like we're back together." 

"Are we?" I asked, stroking the back of her hand using my thumb. 

"No," she mused. 

"Not yet," I corrected. 

She laughed softly and then scooted backward, driving her hips into mine, her ass pressing into me, making my blood rush. 

I sucked in a sharp breath, opening my eyes. "I'm wide awake now." 

She rolled over to face me, a cheeky grin on her lips. "In that case, good morning. I'll shower first," she smirked and then slipped out of bed, taking her clothes and entering the bathroom. 

I stayed in bed until she was dressed and came back out, definitely taking way too long this morning. 

"I took too long, we'll be late. Hurry, please," she said sheepishly, sitting on her side of the bed while I sat up against the headboard, watching her. "You can stare at me later," she smiled. "Get ready, come on. Everyone's waiting. I forgot what we're doing today," she said, grabbing her phone to check. 

"Wine tasting," I said, getting out of bed and grabbing clothes for the day. "We're going wine tasting to select a few for your brother's wedding." 

"Who told you that?" 

"Your Dad," I replied before entering the bathroom and starting to brush my teeth. 

"They really like you, you know?" she called out. "My parents." I looked at the mirror as she appeared in the doorway, watching me. "It's a pity I don't like you that much." 

"No, I think you like me more," I teased, checking her out through the mirror, eyeing her full-sleeve olive green dress. The sleeves were loose and flowy but the dress hugged her tight, stopping at about mid-thigh.