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Penelope's posture slumps and her head rests against the blue painted drywall.
“Follow the doctor’s orders.”
I enter the hall, and she hangs up.
Her back turns, and I hear soft sniffles. She had the strength to call out my bullshit despite a family health emergency. My girl’s strong, but at this moment, she needs a shoulder.
I walk behind her and brush flannel-covered arms in a soothing rhythm.
“Hey. Everything okay?”
She pivots, and teary eyes pin mine with a mix of sadness and desire. Holy hell. She’s speaking directly to my soul.
“Kiss me.”
9
Penelope
The room disappears as our soft lips brush together. He’s a paradox of a formidable lawyer and sensitive lover. My cells melt against him, and my arms shift to circle his neck. His fingers splay across my back and he holds me close. This man is cherishing me, tasting my skin as I hum with pleasure.
His restraint is admirable as I glide my tongue around his lips until I gain access. I feel his chest thumping against mine, and he joins the dance. An involuntary moan rushes from my mouth and he deepens the kiss. I forgot what it feels like to be adored.
“Can I take you to dinner?”
The concoction of emotions built up from the day’s events burst in an unrestrained plea for deeper connection.
“I’m not hungry for food.”
“Lord,” he whispers, and parts our mouths.
My fingernails scrape his neck, and I raise my right leg against his hip. I'm unashamed to ask for what I want.
“Sometimes we don’t get a tomorrow. Make love to me, Bentley. My intimacy needs are most definitely your concern. I want this. I want us.”
“Me too.”
I balance my hands on his shoulders and shift my feet to the ground. There’s no hesitation on his part. My legs wrap around his waist as he stands, and I ravage his mouth until we’re out of breath.
He offers me one last chance to slow our march towards a night of wild and unapologetic intimacy.
“You’re more than sex to me, Penelope. Let me by you dinner. It’s important.”
The cracking tone of his voice causes me to pause and return my legs to the ground. He’s still processing the guilt of choosing work over his girlfriend. My heart gushes with elation that he wants to take this step with me.
“Sustained, Mr. Barton. I need to change.”
“Can I help?”
My lips press to his for a steamy kiss, and I point to the sofa.
“Objection!”
“Overruled. Be right back, Sir.”
Every cell in my body buzzes with anticipation as I shimmy into the green dress. Thoughts whirl through my mind as I freshen my makeup in the bathroom mirror. Is he ready to love again? Do I trust he’s not manipulating my emotions to recreate the relationship he lost?
A light coat of hairspray applies to my smooth locks, and I pause at the bedroom threshold. He’s on the phone with a woman.
