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“I’m not your woman, Tyler,” I say.
He rolls us both to our sides facing each other, molding me close, his erection pressed between my legs. “You feel like my woman to me.”
My chest tightens. “I don’t like this game, Tyler.”
He cups my face and tilts my gaze to his. “It’s not a game.”
“You have obligations and I’m your—” He presses inside me and I moan as he slides deep. “You are so hard.”
“Glad you noticed,” he says, squeezing my backside. “And I’m so fucking hard because I’ve been thinking about laying youacross my lap and spanking you.” He eases his cock back, almost pulling out of me.
And then thrusts hard.
I pant out a breath and stop fighting what is already in process. Maybe I’m taking everything way too seriously. And besides, he may never be inside me again, and he feelsso good.He seems to sense my commitment to what we’ve started because he turns on his back and pulls me on top of him.
It’s broad daylight and I’m riding him, and his eyes devour me like I’m the hottest woman he’s ever known. He sits up as if he has to touch me, and cups my breasts, rocking with me, kissing me. And when we shatter, it’s with him holding me just like this. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” he murmurs. He’s still inside me when he scoots off the bed, stands up, and carries me to the bathroom. When we’re all cleaned up, he sets me on the edge of the counter and presses his hands on either side of me, his mood shifting, darker, intense.
“Bella,” he starts, and the grimness of his tone tells a story. It’s time for a reality check for both of us. “I don’t know what to do,” he says, and I can feel his torment. “I don’t want anything my father has forced on me.”
The sincerity in his tone does a number on me and I press my hand to his face. “We’re friends that had a moment, Tyler.”
“We’re not friends, Bella.”
I blanch, stabbed by that statement when his hands come down on my knees. “I don’t like how that simplifies what is going on between us. But yes,of course,we’re friends, and that’s what makes this different for me. ‘We’re friends’ is not a statement I make about anyone I fuck, Bella.”
“I get that, I do, but it doesn’t change us really. We can stillbefriends and not sleep together. And I’m not leaving the company unless you decide you want me to. I just—I can’t have this come out, or everyone…you know what they will think.”
“I’m not going to letushurt you, Bella. And why would I want you to leave? You’re one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and there is a boardroom of partners who would agree with me. I don’t want any of what comes with my father’s will. You have to know that.”
“How damning is the case he threatened to take public? Are you sure it’s as bad as you think?”
“Yes. It’s bad. If it would have happened ten years later, or even five, I would have stopped it. I was a young buck trying to please my father. A father I should have hated at that point in my life.”
“There has to be a way to deal with it and then go to court over the will.”
“All I can do is everything I can do to stop this before I’m forced to marry. I have six months to act out a public engagement farce to make that happen.”
Six months for him to date, sleep with, and devote himself to one woman who is not me. I’m queasy at this point.
My cellphone rings in the main room. “I really need to check that.” I grab his wrist and glance at his watch, perfectly comfortable touching him at this point.Too comfortable, I think. “We only have an hour until our meeting,” I add, and he helps me off the counter.
I grab the robe from behind the door, slip it on and run for my phone. I find it on the floor by the bed, no longer ringing, but with a cluster of text messages from Dash that seem to be about the studio.
I punch in Dash’s autodial and sit down on the bed. “What’s going on?”
“You still sleep like a rock. The studio head I didn’t want to work with called me.”
“He called you?”
“He did and we talked for over an hour. He’s willing to meet all my terms and then some if we sign a letter of intent today, and up the money. He said he’d talk about that with you. He also said he’d come to you at your hotel. I think he wants to hold you captive so you don’t go to the competition. Text him the time and address and he’ll be there.” At this point Tyler is wearing his pants, sitting next to me, trying to pick up pieces of the conversation. “I’m on it. How do you feel about this, Dash? Is this where you want to land?”
“How doyoufeel about it? What’s your opinion?”
“I think the new studio head at our existing studio is going to screw you.”
“Then make it happen,” he says. “Let’s seal this deal.”
“Do you want us to meet with the existing studio just to be safe before we agree to anything?”
