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“What?” He narrows his eyes at me.
I can’t help the grin. “You don’t seem like a pajama person to me. I would think you slept in your suits as well. Considering, you wore them at your place when Duke and I watched the match.”
He flicks my ear with his finger at the comment.
I scowl. “Stop it.”
He just grins and then after breakfast, he climbs into bed, pulling me halfway onto him till my upper body is sprawled on his legs in an oddly comfortable position with me facing away from him, as he studies some reports on his tablets.
The silence allows me to reflect on what has happened and I start breaking down the events of last night in my head. I feel a hint of embarrassment at how quickly I fell in bed with him.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Caleb admonishes me.
I stubbornly refuse to look at him. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” He runs his fingers through my hair, making me shiver in ecstasy.
His mouth brushes against my ear and when he teases my earlobe, I have to stifle my moan. “Stop it.”
“Then stop overthinking.”
I turn my head to frown at him. “I’m—”
Without warning, his mouth is on mine.
Caleb has this way of holding me in place that excites me. His touch is firm but unyielding and there is no escaping from it. He makes me take what he’s giving me and when I feel his tongue in my mouth, I make a small aroused sound, rubbing my legs together as the ache between them changes to slippery want and my nipples stiffen to form tight peaks, begging for his touch.
His kiss is slow and gentle and yet, so incredibly dirty that it’s just making me writhe in his hold, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to be pulled closer. I feel his hand part my robe and he fondles one breast, his fingers tugging at the stiff peak, making me moan into his mouth, his tongue doing all sorts of unheard things to me.
And just like that, I’m under his thrall and I whimper in need.
The sound of my phone ringing has me trying to pull away.
“Let it ring,” Caleb demands against my mouth.
As tempted as I am to let his drugging kisses sweep me away, I reluctantly push at him until he lets go of me, unhappily.
“Where is it?” I look around and hearing the vibration on the side table to his right, I scramble towards it, in the moment forgetting that I’m now laying completely in his lap until his hand caresses my ass in a meaningful manner and before I answer the phone, I glare at the , “Don’t you dare.”
It’s Jane on the other line. “You were supposed to send me a reply last night!” She sounds annoyed.
I rub the bridge of my nose. “Yes. I’m sorry about that. You can’t publish anything about his past. Mr. Starr was pretty clear about that. Remove that part and you’re good to go.”
I hear Jane argue with me, but I don’t change my mind, finally telling her, “Change it or don’t publish it. Your choice.”
She finally relents before saying a little snidely, “Quite a performance back there at the Heimens Ball. It’s made the papers.”
My jaw tightens.
She can’t know, can she?
When I close the phone, I straighten up into a sitting position.
Caleb watches me with an acute interest. “Did you ever take any business classes?”
I fix my robe, wary of his wandering hands, the heat between my legs still pulsing. “It was mandatory before starting out at Flour Industries. I’m better at organizing, so I stuck to that.”
“No wonder you’re so good at it. Steven Miller tried to poach you once.” His tone is sour.
