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Keats turns back to face me, tugging on the bowtie around his neck. “She did great, didn’t she?”
I nod in agreement. “I thought it was perfect.”
“Can I get you anything to drink?” He gestures down the hallway. “I have some wine in the fridge. If you want a cocktail, I can whip up something.”
I smile. “I’m fine.”
He rakes a hand through his hair, messing it. “You look beautiful tonight, Maren. I don’t know if I told you that yet.”
I could see it in his expression every time he glanced at me. “Thank you. You look great too.”
“Better than the last time you saw me in this tux,” he quips. “I’m sorry about that morning. I’m shocked you didn’t quit.”
“I am too,” I joke.
“I know I’m not the easiest guy in the world to work for.” He steps closer to me. “I’ve never had an assistant who felt like my partner before.”
That’s an unexpected compliment.
“It feels like I’m your partner?”
He takes a step closer to me. “Maybe I’m bullshitting myself, but from where I’m standing, you’re as invested in signing Fletcher to a contract as I am.”
“You swore,” I say, following his lead and narrowing the distance between us with a step too. “I want you to sign him, Keats.”
“Us.” His gaze drops to my lips. “You want us to sign him.”
I nod because I do want that. I want us to be us. I want it to go beyond a contract or a business deal.
Silently, he steps forward until we’re mere inches apart.
“Maren.” My name escapes him wrapped in a sigh.
Trying to calm down, I take a deep breath. I want to savor this moment because I know what’s about to happen.
“I want you.”
My eyes widen at the raw abandonment in his voice and fierce need in his eyes.
I see the want in him. I feel it in me.
“If I’m out of line, tell me,” he groans out. “Tell me to go to hell and leave you the fuck alone.”
I tell him, but it’s not with words.
Instead, I lean forward, rest my palm against the center of his chest, and press my lips to his.***The light from the hallway is enough that I can see Keats as he strips at the foot of his bed.
I’m still dressed.
He brought me up to his bedroom after we kissed.
As he rested his forehead against mine, he whispered that we’d only do what I’m comfortable with.
I want it all.
I want him.
I watch as he slides the shirt from his shoulders.
His chest is covered with a light dusting of dark hair. His body is as sculpted as I imagined it would be.
He drops his hands to his pants. I should look away, but I’m transfixed. His eyes haven’t left me.
This might not be a slow striptease, but it’s pushing me closer to the edge already. My hands are trailing over my stomach. The need in my core is so intense that I’m tempted to slide my hand into my lace panties and bring myself to orgasm.
I watch his chest move on a deep exhale when he pushes his pants, and then his boxer briefs down.
My gaze travels over his body, stopping to admire how hard he is already. I bite my lip to ward off the moan that’s trying to escape.
He drops his hands on the bed. “Tell me you want me, Maren.”
I nod.
“Tell me,” he orders as he climbs on the bed.
His legs edge between mine. I feel the brush of his cock against my bare skin.
“I want you,” I whisper.
He stops. “Say it again.”
“I want you,” I mewl. “So much.”
His head dips, and I almost scream when I feel his lips skim over my thigh. “Spread your legs, beautiful. I want a taste.”
With shaking knees, I do as he asks.
My hand drops to his hair when he licks a path over my hip. I edge my ass off the bed as he gently slides my panties down, and when his tongue touches my flesh, I let out a moan that is so deep and filled with raw need that he groans.
I come quickly and violently, jerking with the spasms of pleasure that roll through me.
“Keats,” I call out his name as a plea for more.
I want more.
“Yes. Yes,” he chants as he slides one finger into my slick channel. “That was only the beginning. I’ll give you what you need. I’ll give you everything.”Chapter 44MarenKeats undresses me with such tenderness that it almost brings a tear to my eye.
He kisses the skin he uncovers as he unbuttons the front of my dress before he gently tugs it over my head. When he unclasps the front of my bra, he presses his lips to the soft spot between my breasts, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of my skin.
“You smell like heaven,” he whispers. “Heaven and home.”
