I nod, my thumb sweeping over her hipbone. “I’ve sat boardroom-level with your father for a year now, evaluating deals, structuring acquisitions, traveling for joint projects. I think he wants you to become immersed in this side of the business first. With someone he trusts.”
“Tell me more about the syrup company,” she whispers, fingertips tracing a slow path across my chest. “Who runs it now?”
“My mom,” I say. “She still owns fifty-five percent. I’ve got the rest. Everette Hill Reserve started with my dad, handed down through generations. Mom stepped in when he died, but she’s ready to slow down.”
“And then what happens?”
I skim my thumb along her arm, watching goose bumps chase my touch. “That’s the part we’re figuring out. Mont and Ihave talked about bringing Everette Hill under Beaumont Group to expand distribution beyond the East Coast. He’d buy my mom’s shares, help me keep it in the family.”
Her head lifts, eyes catching mine in the dim light. “If Beaumont Group acquires it, that would mean…”
“You’d technically own part of my family’s syrup company,” I say, a smile tugging at my mouth. “Guess that’d make you my boss.”
She laughs softly. “And here I thought you liked being in charge.”
“Oh, I do.” I slide a hand to her hip and draw her closer until our noses brush. “But in this case, I don’t mind sharing control.”
City lights slip through the window, washing across soft sheets, catching the worry in those heart-stopping stormy blues, her brows knitting together.
“Knox,” she murmurs, “you have a lot to lose here if my dad finds out about us, and believe me, it’s only a matter of time before he does.” A hitch catches her next breath. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows by now. Someone in his wide circle could’ve easily spotted us out tonight.”
Her words echo in my head louder than Big Ben striking the hour.
A lot to lose? Yeah. Maybe.
But the truth slides through me like a knife: losing Cami would cost me more emotional hardship than disappointing her father ever could.
“Baby…” I cup her face, guiding her eyes back to mine. “I’m not going to let anyone find out from gossip or some chance sighting.” My thumb sweeps her cheek. “Oliver Beaumont fedmethe ‘off-limits’ warning. Which means the next move is mine. I’m the one who tells him about us.” I pause, emotion bubbling free. “Because you’re not something I’m trying to hide. You’re the woman I love. The woman I choose. Fully. Intentionally.Even if that means I step away from the Beaumont Group.” I press my forehead to hers. “Losing you isn’t on the table.”
Her fingers feather up to my chest, lips curving like she knows what she does to me. “You make me sound irresistible.”
“You are,” I tell her, brushing my lips against hers. “Extremely.”
She huffs a breath—something between a laugh and surrender—tugging me closer by the waist. “As are you, Knox Ryder. Extremely.”
The room tilts, heat rising sharp and familiar, and as her mouth meets mine, the outside world fades away. I ease on top, our tongues mingling, bodies grinding, my hands guiding her legs around my waist.
A breathless gasp catches in her throat as I push in, slow and deep, my cock claiming every inch like it’s never known anyone but her.
“Jesus, Cami,” I groan against her mouth. “You feel unreal.”
“You too, every single time,” she breathes, hips tilting to take me deeper, her whisper thick with heat. “I’m addicted.”
God, she’s so tight, her body gripping mine like she’s trying to pull me even deeper.
I draw back, just enough to see her eyes flutter, lips parted, begging without words.
“Tell me you’re mine.” The words scrape out as I feather my lips along her throat, breath breaking against her skin.
Her nails rake down my back, thighs tightening around me. “I’ve always been yours.”
Fuck.
Pinning her wrists above her head, I pull out, then push back in, grinding like I need her to feel it. In her body. In her heart.
Her moan rips through the room, loud and broken, and I swear it lodges in my chest like a battle cry. She arches beneath me, mouth finding mine again, biting, tasting, needing.
And in this moment—her legs locked around me, fingers pressing into my skin like she’d choose me in every life bubble, in every version of herself?—
