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“Hey, what’s the rush?” I ask, taking the top of her arm gently to halt her speedy moves.
Lainey jumps out of her skin and staggers back, and I recoil in shock. “Sorry,” she breathes, shooting her eyes away from mine and scanning the floor for her shoes. “I need to be somewhere.”
“Where?” I ask without thought, knowing I have no right to that information. My mind is suddenly being blitzed with reminders of the men. All of them. And the condoms. So, onto the next guy, huh?
Once again she ignores me and focuses on her task. Of escaping me. Something comes over me, something primal and too powerful to stop. I move forward and take her hands, holding them firm and still. She freezes, keeping her head down. “What’s the problem?” I ask.
“You’re my boss,” she says feebly.
I could laugh. Yes, that’s an issue, but my instinct is telling me that me being her boss isn’t the problem here. “I was your boss an hour ago when you turned up at my apartment.”
“What do you think we’re going to do now?” She looks up at me, and I see an air of determination I don’t like. Hate, in fact. “Talk?” she asks. “Have a cute, cozy conversation? Ask each other what our favorite colors are, or our favorite movie?” She laughs, and it fucking stings. Well, I guess we can safely say I’m not her Mr. Perfect. Not that I’m bothered, because . . . why would I be? “Come on, Ty,” she practically laughs. “We both know you’re not that guy.” She yanks herself free and steps back. “And I can’t be that woman.”
I say nothing, because I haven’t a fucking clue what to say.
Lainey stares at me, jaw tight, while I stand before her, a useless pile of man. A useless pile of injured man. I’m not that guy. She’s right. She can’t be that woman? Can’t or won’t? She’s nothing like what I’ve encountered before, and it’s a worry. Because that itch that needed scratching has barely been stroked. My skin is prickling more now than before. My cock, despite having got what it wanted, is instantly aching for another round. My intrigue just went through the roof, and her beauty just multiplied.
“Well.” I laugh a little, quite amused by the situation I’m in. “You certainly know how to put a man in his place, don’t you?”
Her jaw pulses with anger, and she pivots, taking two steps away before stopping. I watch her frozen form, wondering what on earth is going on in her head. Her shoulders rise on a deep breath and drop slowly on her exhale. “Fucking hell,” she breathes, turning back around to face me. I frown, and she closes her eyes for a few confusing seconds before opening them wide. I see resolve. I see bewilderment. Then she launches her body into mine. I catch her with ease, despite the lack of warning, and hold her to my chest, because I sense she needs it. And, actually, I quite like her in my arms. “I don’t want to go,” she confesses.
“Then don’t,” I answer simply, pulling her free and lifting her chin with the tip of my finger. The top of her head comes up to my jaw. It’s the perfect height to kiss her forehead when she’s in my arms. I like her in my arms. I want her in my arms.
Lainey smiles, small and awkward. “I’m not a big talker.”
“And I’m not a big listener, so we should be good.” I take her hand and lead her to my bed, motioning for her to get in. Stripping down, she pulls the covers back, sliding in. I join her, turning onto my side and negotiating her body over so her back is to me and I can pull her close. And, damn, if my body doesn’t mold around hers like water. I sigh and bury my face in her hair, feeling for her hand and taking it, squeezing. And we lie in silence, a silence we both agreed to, and a silence that’s screaming a thousand words—but there are four that are particularly loud.
Ty.
Christianson.
Is.
Fucked.I wake at six as usual and roll over on a sigh, sleepily preparing myself to get up and get to the pool. I feel good. Fucking great, in fact.
And then I remember why.
My eyes spring open, and I prop myself up on my elbows, letting my waking brain piece everything together and get it straight.
Lainey.
I look in the bed next to me, but it’s minus one Lainey, and then I cast my eyes around my bedroom, looking for any signs that she was here. There’s nothing. No, wait. There’s something. I inhale and get a delicious hit of sex mixed with her distinctive girlie scent. But where is she?
