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My fingers dance across his chest, tracing patterns over his heart. I let my attention drift toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, noticing a few clouds dimming the sun. “Because I only asked for one thing.” I’m not accusing. There’s no bite to my words. No bitterness or malice in my tone. They’re more contemplative.
I made demands knowing he’d never give them to me because the magnitude of my feelings was too much. Too overwhelming.
Too real.
But if I’ve learned anything these last few months, it’s that love so deep and profound doesn’t disappear with time. Every second we were apart—avoiding him and trying to bury my misplaced anger—my love kept growing.
It makes no sense. It defies logic and rationale, but so does love. And there’s not a molecule in my body that doesn’t love this man. “You want me to have everything I want?” I look back at him, and he nods. “Well, you’re in luck. The only thing I want is you.”
“No baby fever?” he teases.
“No. Maybe one day, but I’m young. I have time to decide if that’s something I want. And even old guys can procreate.”
“Old?” He grips my neck and brings my mouth to his. “I’ll show you old.” His tongue runs across my lips, and I welcome him in. Stroking, warring as we always do in a fight for control that neither of us have. He grips me tightly to him, his free hand sliding beneath my shirt, over my ribs until he reaches my breast. Light strokes caress my nipple through the lace of my bra until it becomes a diamond peak, and his hips thrust upward, grinding his need against my own.
The hand fondling my breast drifts down until he reaches the waistband of my jeans. Like a pro, he has them unfastened before my brain registers what’s happening. My hands fly to his just before he reaches the place that makes me lose all sense. A heavy breath escapes me as I pull away from him. My hair slaps him in the face as I shake my head.
“What the hell?” He spits and sputters as he slaps my hair from his mouth.
“We can’t.” I still sound like a panting bitch in heat, but at least I can think. Shoving against his chest, I try to remove myself from his lap.
He holds me in place, refusing to let me go. “Like fuck we can’t.”
My palms slap his chest again, and I squirm until he finally releases me. “No. Not here. Maddox just walked in without either of us noticing. My brother could be next.”
“Your broth…” His brows leap to his forehead, then he drags a hand over his mouth. “Not like he hasn’t seen before.”
My attention, which was on finding my shoes under the sofa, snaps to him, the sudden motion making something in my neck twinge. “What did you say?”
“I said it’s not like we can’t lock the door.” My eyes narrow to slits as I follow the bob of his throat. “What are you doing?” He nods to where I kneel by the sofa.
I bend back over, shoving my arm under the piece of furniture. “Looking for my…” I sit up with the rhinestone, high-top Converse in my hand. “This.”
“You’re really not gonna…”
“Nope. Besides, Dylan and the guys will be in here in five minutes, and you said I needed to meet with the graphic designer for cover ideas.”
“And what am I supposed to do with this?” He grabs his engorged cock that strains against his jeans.
“I’ll make it up to you.” I wink and sashay to the door.
“You’ll do more than make up for it.” He calls out just as the door slams.
Liam
I move the mouse over the screen, adjusting the middle bass tone and increasing the microphone level, then press record. “Start again,” I tell her, looking through the glass. She nods, frustration rolling off her in waves so thick I can feel them in here.
Her mouth opens and closes as she starts her seventh take of the song. Her foot taps restlessly, and she rubs her palms on her thighs again and again. If she’d stop with her fidgeting, her voice wouldn’t be so shaky. But it’s more than that. She’s a fucking nervous wreck, and the culprit sits next to me, swiveling in the chair like a jackass with his feet kicked up on the table.
“Dammit,” she yells when she misses a lyric. Again.
“Come on, Lily. You wrote the damn song. It’s not that hard to remember the words.” Angel says as he presses the button to her earpiece.
That’s it.
We will never get this finished as long as she knows he’s here. And since he can’t seem to hold up his end of our agreement and keep his mouth shut…
“Hey, Knox, thanks for helping us out today,” I say into the intercom. “I’ve got it from here.” Relief flashes in his dark eyes as he nods. I haven’t missed how he’s checked the time every five minutes for the last hour. “Lily, take a break. Get some water. Just… relax for a few minutes.”
