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What is he picturing? Is he remembering the way these hands moved up against his abdomen in the shower, softly strumming across his hot skin and leaving a trail of want and need? Or the way they dug into his back, my nails leaving marks when he delivered the most insane orgasm of my life.
My eyes burn into his chest, remembering the way it felt when I leaned against him and our naked bodies held one another. It was more intimate than sex. More sensual. More erotic. The way he made me sit on his face. Giving me all the control.
And don’t even get me started on the actual sex. Freaking mind-blowing.
I was sure that within weeks he’d be sliding into me again, digging his fingers into my hips and kissing the life from me.
Instead, we are sitting across from one another with bitterness and anger, and—in all honesty—a bit of heat between us. But his constant need to remind me of Steven, a man I despise, is going to drive me berserk.
Seeing as how answering his question will get us nowhere, I move on. “Since you and I have already been on a few dates and I’ve gotten to know you, I’m pretty sure we can just skip ahead to the portion of you telling me what you’re looking for in a partner. I can then begin my search.”
Jumpstarting the process, and bypassing at least two weeks, will get me to the finish line faster, and unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, get Cash a girlfriend before I have a chance to blow up my entire life for him.
Cash’s jaw tics and he sits quietly for a moment as if he’s studying me.
What is he thinking? What does he see?
It’s the same thing I thought the first time I saw him. But then he knew nothing. Then he didn’t have all these preconceived thoughts. Then he hadn’t held me bare, kissed me raw, and whispered promises into the night sky that made me wish I had a shooting star, or that I was someone who had a chance at the life I knew he would provide.
Finally, his smooth voice sweeps across the table and sends a shiver down my spine. “No.”
The command he holds over the English language was never more apparent than in that one word because I understand exactly what he wants, what he will demand, and what he’ll make me endure, without explanation. But I make him say it anyway.
Furrowing my brow, I quip, “No?” The way I say it, as if daring him to put me in my place, makes me physically shake with need.
This is the dance that Cash and I so effortlessly tango, the giving and taking of control.
For the briefest of moments, a shadow of a smile crosses his face. “No.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific. No, you don’t want me to find you a match?”
The words I want to hear, that he has already found one, never materialize.
“No, I want you to find me a match. But I want to do it the proper way. No skipping steps, no rushing this along. You say you’re the best in the biz, so show me. I don’t want some half-ass job because you can’t handle sitting across from me for a few meals.”
I know if I continue to shrink under his commands this will never work. My need for this to work, for me to take over the company, is greater than my lust for him. Or at least I hope it is.
I reach my hand across the table and sweep my fingernails over his hand, making circles on it just as I had done to his stomach in the shower. “Cash, it’s not me I’m worried about.”
If I had to guess, his pants grow tighter because he immediately removes his hand and adjusts himself. His eyes, which I could have swum laps in over the weekend, narrow and appear almost as dark as the bourbon in his glass. “Don’t you worry about me, Mrs. Kensington. As I said, I don’t touch married women. Just put me through your little obstacle course; I’ll pass with flying colors. Find me a woman who will make me forget about you and we’ll be even.”
My resolve weakens. I flick my eyes to the ceiling, looking anywhere but into the face that makes me want to upend my entire life. “It’s your future. I’m happy to do whatever you wish.”
Cash stands up from the table, places his napkin down, and starts to walk away. Before he passes me, he grabs my shoulder and faces away from me as he whispers into my ear, “Don’t say things like that.”
Without flinching I reply, “What? Why?”
His fingers slide across my skin, almost as if he forgot for a moment that he shouldn’t touch me, and I feel him breathe me in. “Because the things I wish for, you can’t give me.”
Chapter 9
Cash
The afternoon is so packed with meetings that I almost forget that I’m meeting my sister for dinner. I say almost because Cat would never let me forget, even if I did.
“Okay, little bro, head of the family, and prodigal child, are you ready for dinner with your wiser, much better-looking, and sweet sister who intends to make sure you have a good night and are fed like the king that you are?”
I laugh for what feels like the first time today. “Do you ever get tired of being so ridiculous?”
