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“I know,” I respond, swallowing hard.
“Then you know you have nothing to worry about. Adam’s good at his job. And he would never do anything to put my life in jeopardy.” She moves her hands to my arms. “This is simply a case of an overly emotional man whose friend went missing, so he targeted Jameson because he founded a charity, the main objective of which is to find and bring home missing women. He’s not involved. Okay?”
I pull my lips between my teeth, jaw clenching in frustration. There’s something practiced about her response, as if it’s the one she’s been told to give.
And I hate it.
Last night brought into sharp focus exactly how much I hate everything about this situation. And it’s not just the idea of Jameson in general I loathe. It’s that I can’t do the things most people in relationships take for granted.
Then again, we’re not exactly in a real relationship, not when we agreed months ago this would eventually come to an end.
For the first time, I’m willing to admit I don’t want this to end. Don’t want to continue the family legacy. Not if it means having to walk away from Esme.
But even if I’m willing to give up everything to be with her, that doesn’t mean she is. Doesn’t mean she’ll be allowed to.
“Okay, Creed?” she repeats when I don’t immediately respond.
Not wanting to spend what little time we have together arguing about Jameson Gates, I offer her a tight smile. “Okay.”
“Good.” She pushes against me, voice brightening. “Now get to work. We have a lot to do before our guests arrive in an hour. You can start with arranging the centerpieces.” She playfully swats my ass before returning to the long table at the head of the room where the gifts are to be placed. Then she glances over her shoulder and winks, the thick tension dissipating.
“Such a taskmaster,” I remark, waggling my brows.
She purses her lips into a flirtatious scowl. “And I thought you liked it when I take charge.”
I step behind her and skim the backside of her leg, lifting the material of her dress. “I don’t just like it. I bloody love it.” I scrape my lips against her neck. “Love watching you ride my cock. Love watching your tits bounce. Love feeling your nails dig into my chest.”
“Creed.” My name is a cross between a warning and a moan. “We can’t.”
“But you want to.” I brush a light thumb against her panties, finding them warm and wet. “I can feel how much you ache for me, princess.”
“I do,” she whimpers.
I push her panties aside, sliding a finger through her slickness, wishing I could pin her to the wall and have my way with her, to hell with who might walk in on us. After the helplessness that consumed me all night, I need this connection. Need to feel Esme.
Need the reminder she’s still mine.
Even if for only a little while longer.
And what makes matters worse is I don’t know when we’ll be alone again. This is the first time since we started down this path that there’s no more scheduled meetings, leaving us at the mercy of her stacked agenda and the prying eyes of her household staff, as well as my brother.
“Who’s on your detail tonight?” I ask as I continue teasing her.
“W- Walsh.”
“Ask him to bring you to my place.”
On a sharp inhale, she spins around, forcing my hand away as wide green eyes meet mine. “But—”
I bring the same finger I’d just used to tease her up to her mouth, silencing her. “I want to see you. Want you in my bed where I can take my time without worrying who might interrupt us. Just for a few hours.”
“What am I supposed to tell Walsh? We don’t have the excuse of the baby shower anymore.”
“I know. I just…”
Licking my lips, I look around the restaurant, searching for a reason I’d need to see her. Something that won’t raise suspicion any more than already seems to be the case.
“What if I brought everything back to my place after the shower? Flowers. Balloons. Favors. Anything left over. We can make up some excuse about putting together care packages to donate to children’s hospitals in the area. Something like that.”
