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“With?”
“Other women,” I blurt out, and then bite down on my lower lip to stop it from trembling.
“What are you talking about?”
I drop my gaze, not wanting to look at him. “I saw the picture of you.”
He places his finger on my quivering jaw and tips it up until our gazes meet. “Come on, princess. Don’t you know?”
“Know what?” I whisper.
“It’s only been you.”
“I don’t—the woman?”
“Is my sister. I’m in love with you. Somewhere on that crazy island, I fell in love with you. I can’t let another day pass without you knowing that I love you. That I would do anything for you. That you’re everything.”
The words hit me like a tidal wave. I want to melt into his arms and never leave, to stay here forever at this moment. Emotions threaten to overwhelm me, and I can’t find the words to respond.
He stares at me for a moment, his expression tender. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know how I feel.”
He reaches out and takes my hand in his own, squeezing. “I don’t expect—” he says softly.
The tears burst from my eyes. “I love you, too.”
A smile slowly spreads across his lips, and he pulls me to him, searing his mouth to mine.
Opening my mouth, Paxton slides his tongue into mine, taking full ownership of me.
This is everything I missed. The feeling of his need, his want, his possession.
I feel starved for him.
I’m desperate for him, and as I’m about to pull away and tell him what I want, Paxton lifts me.
I gasp into his mouth, but the sound only fuels him. His kiss grows more primal as he carries me a few steps, placing me back on solid ground and pressing my back against the wall.
Before I know what’s happening, my sweats are off, and my thong follows.
His hands roam all over my body, touching every inch as if he’s making sure I’m real. That this is really happening.
He deepens the kiss as I feel his erection nudging, and then he slams inside me, taking my breath from my lungs.
It feels so good.
I had forgotten.
It feels like I’m finally complete. The part of my heart I left on the island has been returned.
He picks up his pace.
“What’s it going to be, princess?” He thrusts harder and deeper. “Will you come work for me?”
“Yes!” I scream as I fall over the edge, shattering around him.
Catching my breath, I look up at him, my lips parting into a lazy smile. “I can’t promise it’ll be easy.”
“I’d rather have complicated with you than easy any day, princess.”
“Me, too.”
EPILOGUE
Mallory
Six months later…
@Stargossip: So you guys are really done with this story?
@Ihatemovies: Wow, you’re finally getting the picture.
@Betterthanfiction: Books are better than this shit.
@Lexi_H: Nothing is better than THE END.
It never ends.
There’s always one more email to write. Another phone call to return.
But as I sit in my chair, typing away, I realize I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Things have been crazy here.
But a good kind of crazy.
The perfect kind.
Ever since I opened the door and saw Paxton standing on the other side, it’s been a whirlwind.
Brad’s apparently back on set filming Twisted Lily 2.0. His threats were just that, threats.
Teagan’s doing great. She no longer talks to her mom and has started college.
And me? Well, now that my father has finally realized I don’t need him to succeed, he’s reached out and made amends.
We aren’t close.
We most likely will never be, but I can’t let that hold me back. I have too many good things going on in my life to let the little details bother me anymore.
Paxton wasn’t joking when he said he wanted me to work for him.
And here I am, six months later . . . working with him, not for him. I made that clear the moment I signed on the contract’s dotted line.
Paxton isn’t my boss. He’s my partner, and we make a powerful team together.
Most people might not be able to live and work with their boyfriend, but that’s not us. Having spent so much time together on the island, we know each other inside and out.
It works.
We work.
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear the sound of the door opening.
My fingers halt, and I look up to see Paxton striding in, acting like he owns the place—which he technically does—but that’s not why I allow him to barge in. I allow him that luxury because I love the fool.
Once he steps inside, he leans against the wall. “Working hard?” he asks me with a smirk. I roll my eyes and nod.
He laughs at that and then straightens. “Come on,” he says, pushing off the wall with a wink. “I promised you dinner.”
Shaking my head, I stand from my chair and grab my coat. As I move to put it on, he crosses the space with his usual swagger. Once beside me, he helps me put it on and then holds out his hand.
