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“I’m pretty busy in here, Landon.”
I can tell where this is going, so clasping the doorknob, I twist, glad when it pops right open. “Not taking no for an answer, Vi.”
She frowns at me, but I avoid her exasperation by cupping her cheeks and providing her with a long and luxurious kiss. The kind where our lips smack and our tongues clash. Hell, by the end, she’s even nipping—hard—at my lip, and my thoughts blur because all my blood’s zipping south.
But then, she pushes me away.
“Why did you do that?” she demands to know, all huffy and puffy with her perfectly put-up hair slipping out of its intricately arranged bun.
“Because I needed to. You’ve been evading me all week.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might have issues I’ve had to attend to? Huh? That I might be dealing with my own personal shitshow?”
“Tell me about it.”
“Tell you?” she asks with incredulity dripping from her tone.
“Yes. Tell me all about it. Confide in me. You’re my friend, and you’ve recently become my lover, and it seems to have escaped your attention that I care about you. An awful lot.”
Okay, so I’m no romcom hero offering up a sweet and hilarious romantic speech that sweeps her off her feet, but I want to give this thing between us more than the old college try.
I want to give it everything I’ve got, and that’s despite the sparks flying from her eyes and the glower warping her features as she scowls at me.
“Well, how about the fact that I could be losing my whole damn restaurant?”
What? The question comes out of left field. I have no idea what she means.
“You’ve lost me. Please explain.”
So, she does. She goes on to enumerate all the problems she’s been dealing with, everything from faulty refrigeration systems to employees falling down on the job, from marketing and food costs killing her profit margin to the decimation of her savings.
And holy shit, I didn’t have a clue that things had grown anywhere close to this bad. The place was popular and there were reservations for every night.
“Operating The Blue Heron has been this huge goal of mine for so long, and now that I’ve achieved it, I’m afraid it’s all going to fade away due to my own incompetence. I had no idea how much money I’d need and I didn’t save enough.”
This sorrowful outpouring breaks something inside me, something I didn’t even know existed. I cup her beautiful face in my palms.
“Violet Dean, you are about the least incompetent person I’ve ever met, and if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’ll do it.”
She blinks up at me, tears on her eyelashes like miniature crystals, and I just can’t stand it anymore. I kiss her again, but it’s not the battle of wills it was the first time. This time around it’s more about comfort, about putting my money where my mouth is when it comes to displaying how I feel about her.
It starts slow and builds, the delicate meeting of my mouth to her cheek as I nuzzle her out of sheer affection, my hand tucking a lose tendril of her hair behind her ear. Next, we connect at the lips again, closed mouths gaping slightly so that we can taste one another, feel one another. Her small hands slide up beneath my t-shirt, her fingers thumping along the ridges of my obliques, abs, and chest, and with greater haste, I unfasten the buttons of her chef’s uniform.
And it’s like DeJa’Vu.
Our leisurely pace gives way to urgency, to passion, as we strip one another like the world’s ending.
Her shirt spins into one corner as mine hits the slatted blinds, still open to let the sun despite the falling dusk. She works to release my cock from the confines of their prison, yanking my underwear down as if mad at the poly/cotton blend. With my pants and skivvies at my knees, I turn to her, stripping off pants and panties in one go, and shoving at her socks and shoes until they’re gone, too.
Retrieving a condom from the ready storage in my pocket, I roll it on, lifting her nude body and placing her ass onto her desk. A ledger, papers, and pens scatter everywhere, but I don’t give a damn. My shoes trod on some of the debris as I split her legs wide, rubbing along her folds and stiffening harder than ever to find her already drenched for me.
“Fuck me, Landon,” she whimpers. “Fuck me, right now.”
Never have I been so thrilled to follow an order in my life.
Gliding into her, I bury myself up to the hilt, holding myself still as I peer down into those two glistening pools of aquamarine. My mouth next makes love to hers, my tongue performing a demonstration of how my cock yearns to thrust in and out of her. I wait, though, until my thumb and index finger locate her clit, until I rub that tiny bundle of nerve endings long enough to have her panting, then gasping, and finally moaning just loud enough for me to hear her.
Ilovehearing her moan.
