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“Before me, when was the last time you had sex?”
I don’t even need to think about it. “Two years ago.”
“Why break your rules for me?” She’s looking at me with those ethereal, silvery eyes like she can see right past my bullshit and self-preservation.
“You reminded me what I was missing.”
“Ah, the peep show.” She looks almost...disappointed.
“I meant excitement. Anticipation.” I won’t dare say it, but she made me realise I was missing out on living. Being something other than my work. Being something other than a desperate uncle and brother. “I didn’t expect you to ask that question.”
“I didn’t expect you to answer honestly,” she admits.
Whatever this thing is between us—it’s not casual. I wouldn’t have left her in my bed because I needed space to think if it was casual. And casual sex sure as hell doesn’t involve getting to know one another, talking about pasts and wounds and the way we protect ourselves. It involves fucking. Maybe dinner.
This is so much more than fucking and dinner.
“I was dating someone up until about a month ago,” she says quietly. I don’t want to imagine it—another man’s hands on her body. Another man cradling her the way I did when she cried. “I thought it meant something. I thought he cared about me as a person.”
“Give me a name.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “He’s not worth your time. Or mine.”
“He was an idiot if he didn’t see how amazing you are.”
“You don’t know me, Mr. Suit.”
“No? I know you care about your sister more than anyone else on earth. I know you have good taste in music and you don’t let people tell you how to act and you’re not the kind of woman to give a shit if someone judges you for the way you dress. In fact, you welcome a bit of judgment because it means you can keep your distance more easily.”
Her nostrils twitch. “Maybe I just like black.”
“I’m sure you do, Blondie.” I meet her stare.
“I never wanted to get entangled with you.” She bites her lip. The second she walked into my office, my pulse jacked and my hands got twitchy and my mind started circling—that’s what she does to me.
I meant every word of what I said: before her, I’d forgotten how to be excited.
“I never wanted this to be more than some mutual pleasure,” she adds.
“You’re lying to yourself if you think this is only a booty call.”
“I thought it was a meeting to discuss the rehearsal dinner presentation.” Her innocent tone is betrayed by the cheeky sparkle in her eye. “We are in a very esteemed, professional office, after all.”
Is that a challenge? This woman puts fire in my blood like I have never experienced before. It’s like she’s taken a greyscale world and flooded it with colour.Mygreyscale world, which has been devoid of laughter and light for so long I had forgotten how it felt not to be wearing a boulder around my neck 24/7.
But I can’t lie to myself or to her.
“I like you, Drew. But if you’re simply looking for a warm body then you should leave.”
She pushes up from the chair and I’m given a glorious view of her long, slim legs. For a minute, I’m sure she’s about to go. But then she winks at me. “I don’t need a warm body. I’ve got a handheld device that does the job and doesn’t give me any smartass comebacks.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Idobring the smartass comebacks.”
She saunters over to my door and flicks the lock. The sound is like a gunshot in my quiet office and I’m immediately tense in the best way possible. Electricity filters through me, crackling and hissing until my body is a livewire.
She knows where I stand—thisisn’tmeaningless sex. I don’t know what is beyond that, but I know I want more. From her, from myself. From life. I want to start living again.
Maybe my brother was right all along—I needed to get laid.
