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Her whisper makes my already eager dick harden like granite inside my boxer briefs. “You’re welcome. I meant what I said earlier at the office. I want to take you out.”
Quiet for more than a minute, she stares at her hands in her lap, tucking her fingers between her legs almost as if she’s cold. Fuck that. I pump up the heat and wait.
I’m not sure if she’s going to speak but I hold my tongue. Giving her the chance to process my request. To tell me the truth.
Finally, she glances over at me.
“What about my job? I work for you and Ms. Fine. Won’t that be wrong or illegal or something?”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing for London. That doesn’t have anything to do with us.”
I let the suggestion ofushang in the air as I pull in front of her apartment building and idle to keep her warm, allowing her to absorb the idea. She doesn’t make a move to exit the vehicle, so I wait her out, not wanting to escort her inside until she seems ready.
Finally, her head lifts, and she startles from her home in front of her. Lost in her own mind for so long she didn’t think about where I was taking her until it’s apparent we’re not working.
I hop out and stride around to her side, welcoming her delicate hand in mine. The fine bones and smooth skin are so fragile against my thick fingers, rough from the physical side of my job.
“How did you know where I lived?”
Best tech in the world at my fingertips. “I always learn everything I can about what I’m interested in.”
Her gorgeous blush deepens, and she shakes her head. “This is all moving so fast. I mean we just met and you’re my boss and you want to go on a date and the—”
I stop her spinning head with a kiss. My lips nudge gently on hers until she begins to breathe again, and I invade when her mouth opens. Tasting the natural sweetness only amplified from her earlier cotton candy.
Unsurprisingly, she’s docile, permitting my entrance and exploration, clutching my shirt to keep steady on her feet. Unable to help myself, I delve deeper when she moans and sheaths her body to mine, relishing her graceful femininity with her softness melting into me.
The honk of a car nearby interrupts me devouring her, and she pulls away, panting a little as she looks up to me. Magnificent with her puffy lips and lustrous eyes, she breaks through her timidity and brushes her fingertips across my chin. Almost as if confirming I’m real with the sensual haze engulfing us.
I tip my head and kiss her fingertips. “Give me the chance to convince you this is right, that we’d be perfect together.”
“How can you think that? We don’t even know each other.”
Hope sounds in her tone contradicting with the doubt in her questions. She wants this too, but practicality generates the argument.
From what London told me about her past, I can see why she doesn’t trust easily or believe in the improbability of a relationship. “I know enough to know I want to know more. I want to know everything about you.”
When she smiles the sincerest of smiles, I confirm I’ve convinced her.
“I’d like that too.”
“So you’ll spend the rest of the evening with me?”
“I should be furious with you for lying to me.”
She tries to untangle from my embrace, shoving against my chest without any real force. Borderline flirting with me that I find endearing with her inexperience. Her playfulness only makes me grip her tighter. “But you’re not.”
Only a grin and an indulgent headshake since I know she’s probably mad at herself for not being mad at me. Now I just have to keep her busy enough to keep her head free of her doubt and on how good things will be between us. “Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s too cold for you out here.”
Without giving her any chance to change her mind, I glide my hand to the small of her back and lead her to the front door. Just like I anticipated she snuggles into me, and I stop to kiss the top of her head, swearing right then and there I’m never letting her go.
Because she’s exactly what I need in my life even if I don’t want to admit the truth to London. Or to myself.
Balthazar
She tucks her keys, dangling from a red elf hat ring, back in her pocket and shoves open the flimsy door to the shittiest apartment known to man. Only made more ironic from her attempts to make the dump more cheerful.
Dingy walls glow from the strands of tiny white lights edging the ceiling and a scrawny fir tree stands in the corner, branches drooping from the multitude of gold and silver balls. Green garland drapes above the windows and the passthrough to a galley kitchen.
