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Olivia sat barely breathing during the awkward ride, until they finally arrived at Dakota’s building. Fletcher walked her to the door, kissed her on the cheek, then climbed back inside the limousine.
Finally, they were alone.
He stared at her across the space. His face, body and eyes were so familiar to her and yet this felt new and electric.
“That was horrible.”
“It was unfair of me to do that to her,” he said, his eyes dropping momentarily. “But you’re important.”
Olivia felt a tug in her chest. She realized, and not for the first time, that few people knew the real Fletcher Dufort. Playboy of Manhattan he might be, but he was not a shallow rich kid.
He had depth and a big heart.
He was just very selective about who he allowed to see that side of him.
When they arrived at her brownstone, Fletcher instructed Frederick to head home.
A shiver ran through her body. Did he think he was staying? Did she want him to?
Hell yes, but he couldn’t.
Firstly, Sammy was inside.
Secondly, if just his kisses had her all tangled up, going further was going to complicate things even more.
He’d just have to Uber home after they talked. And had one or two more kisses.
Then it would be over.
Back to being his employee.
“Wait, I have a sitter, so just give me a minute. I’d rather she not meet you,” Olivia said.
Fletcher nodded and climbed back into the limousine.
She raced inside, paid the young woman, and then stood on the doorstep watching the sitter walk back to her house, which was several doors away.
Fletcher climbed back out of the vehicle, looking every inch the powerful billionaire. He took the steps slowly, one by one, his eyes never leaving hers, then enveloped her in his arms.
Her entire body flared to life, and all sense left her.
Fletcher moved them inside, his lips slamming down on hers as the door closed behind them.
She melted into him as he pulled her flush against his body. Both of them moaned as their kiss deepened.
Holy shit, she was kissing Fletcher inside her house.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for months. Fucking months.” He growled, walking them further into the house.
“We have to be a bit quiet,” she said, kissing his lips over and over as he pushed the strap of her dress off her shoulder.
Fletcher nodded and lifted her onto the dining table, pressing his body between her legs. Her dress dipped and exposed one of her breasts.
“Jesus.” His mouth surrounded her nipple and she let out a muffled moan.
Talking.
They had to talk.
