I thought sayingI love youwould freak me out. It didn’t. Having this woman seeing me, truly seeing me, is more than enough.
At least for now.
“Careful there, Thunder, or I’ll think you like me.” I lighten the mood.
“I tolerate you,” she quips, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Mostly because you have an impressive dick.”
Of course, she would add that. She hands me mercy and then immediately sets it on fire.
“Glad to be of service.”
She shrugs nonchalantly. But her thumb keeps rubbing slow circles over my knuckle like she forgot to stop.
And we strike some sort of truce. Not yet moving forward, but not heading backward either.
She needs time. I give her time.
It proves to be harder than I could have ever imagined.
I watch Roxy as she hesitates between a bright pink blazer and a navy-blue leather jacket.
The sheets are still warm after she rose, and my cock twitches, the greedy bastard ready to lure her back into bed.
Biting her lips, she slips into the pink garment and then the other before she takes it off.
“Does it always take this long?” I ask.
“What?” She jerks her head, as if she were surprised I’m here.
“Sorry,” I say, lazy and unapologetic. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your creative fashion meltdown.”
She blows out the air through her cheeks. “No one ever watched me getting dressed before.”
That shouldn’t stroke my ego as much as it does. “Do you want me to leave?”
She smiles at me. “Stay.”
It’s not an invitation for forever, but it’s still fucking rewarding.
“Join me,” I counter.
“Don’t tempt me.” While her eyes flicker to the bed, I know she’s distracted.
Today is her first day back at Merged. First time as one of the partners. I have no doubt she will slay, but she seems to waste time obsessing over every detail.
“Go with the pink. It’s more you. Sharp shoulders. Soft color. A threat wrapped in satin.”
She pauses, half frowning, half smiling. “Oh?” She lifts the blazer and holds it to her torso, inspecting the effect in the mirror.
“It’s deceptive. It’ll lull your opponents into believing they are dealing with a delicate flower.” I rake my gaze down her. “And then you’ll gut them in the boardroom.”
She raises one eyebrow. “For a man of few words, you’ve been very verbose lately.”
“Are you complaining?”
“I’m not sure yet.” She slides her arms into the pink blazer, putting it over the black aerobics jumpsuit from the eighties that hugs her curves in a sinful way. I might need to go with her to pour acid in the onlookers’ eyes. Fuck.
Or keep her locked in here. That would be an option.
