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Eventually I pull back. “Hey.”
“Hey.” That sated peaceful look she was rocking a couple of minutes ago has already disappeared. In its place is wary uncertainty.
I brush the damp hairs away from her forehead. “Overthinking things already?”
Wren buries her face against my chest. “This really wasn’t part of my plan for tonight.”
“No? You didn’t plan to come all over my face?”
“Oh my God!” She pokes me in the ribs.
I catch her wrist and kiss her knuckles. “What about my cock? No plans to come on that either? Not even between the tux fitting and reviewing the speech?”
Her face flushes pink, or pinker than it originally was. “You can stop now.”
“I’ll be honest, this is pretty much the opposite of how I thought my night was going to go. I figured I’d get wasted on my cousin’s expensive scotch and try to forget that my dad had a sex pad. Gotta say, this was way better and a lot less stressful. Actually, come to think of it, this is the most relaxed I’ve been since I landed in New York.” I drag a finger down her spine. “So, I think you should probably stay the night, and we can perform additional stress-relieving activities once I’ve had enough time to recover and then again in the morning. Maybe we should add them to your special duties as assigned.”
A furrow appears between Wren’s brows, and her mouth turns down at the corners. “That makes it sound like I’m getting paid to have sex with you.”
“It’s more like you’re getting paid to have orgasms.”
Her eyes flare, and she pushes on my chest. “Oh my God. This was probably a really bad idea.”
I wrap an arm around her to prevent her from escaping. “This—” I motion between us. “You and me? We were an inevitability. Sooner or later, one of us was going to cave. At least we managed to keep it together and not end up screwing in the copy room, or my office, because Lord knows there’s a really damn good chance that Marjorie would’ve picked that exact moment to ask if I wanted my five millionth coffee of the day.”
She opens her mouth, possibly to argue, but then clamps it shut again.
I grin. “See? You know I’m right.”
“I was actually going to comment on how much you’d fleshed out that scenario in your head.”
“I’ve been having fantasies about finding out whether or not the panty-less-ness was really an accident.”
“As if I would willingly walk around pantiless with Armstrong around.”
“I don’t think you have to worry too much about my brother. He knows better than to touch my things.” I bite back a smile and wait.
Her eyebrows shoot up, and she’s back to pushing on my chest. “Your things?”
“I’m playing with you, Wren. You’re not a thing, or anyone’s personal possession, but there’s also no way Armstrong would even consider laying a hand on you if he knows we’re involved. He might screw with a lot of people, but he won’t ever screw with me.”
“I don’t think people can know about this, Lincoln. How will it look?”
“I don’t cut your paychecks. You don’t work for me, so I don’t see how any of that will actually matter.”
“What about the optics?”
“Can you stop doing your job for thirty seconds and enjoy the afterglow with me for a while?”
She sighs, but some of the tension in her body eases. “We need to figure out how to handle this. We need to be professional at work. We can’t actually have a scenario where Marjorie walks into your office and finds me bent over your desk, Linc.”
“We could do that on a Saturday, you know, to avoid Marjorie, or better yet, there’s a home office here and the windows overlook the city. We could pretend we’re in the office.” I’m actually getting excited about the prospect.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m horny, and I’ve been deprived for a long time, Wren. I also haven’t had mind-blowing sex in an even longer time, like, probably the better part of half a decade, so I’m not inclined to give it up very easily, and I’d also like to indulge as much as possible. But I get what you’re saying, so if we need to keep it professional in the office, I’m willing to give it a try.”
“I think you’re going to have to do better than try, Linc. Do you honestly think your mother will be okay with us sleeping together?”
“Is there anything in your contract that says you can’t?”
“Uh, well … no.”
“Then technically she can’t have a problem with it. Besides, she allowed my d-bag of a brother to bone pretty much every woman on staff, and she had to have known my father had a mistress, or more than one. She really doesn’t get to have any kind of opinion on who I sleep with.”
