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And sweet you are. As it turned out, she hadn’t been working after all. She’d been making a scrapbook for Dylan’s kitchen renovation ideas.This way you can keep pictures of what you’ve done and ideas for future renovations.It was the single most meaningful gift anyone could have given him, and it spoke volumes about how she felt about him.
“I missed you last night, Summers.” He kissed her again. “I want you in my bed every night.”
“You are possessive, aren’t you?”
He brushed his scruff over her cheek, earning a delicious moan. “I never was, until you.”
She looked at him with disbelief in her eyes, and all those possessive urges reared up in force. He backed her up against the elevator wall with another kiss.
“Go gently,” she said with a giggle. “I’m a little sore from the trapeze.”
“I’m sorry, babe. I’ll give you a full rubdown tonight.Naked.”
Heat flashed in her eyes as their mouths crashed together. It was hell being careful not to press his body too roughly against hers. Her breasts grazed his chest, her hips rocked against him, and a needful noise escaped from deep within her.
“What was that, Summers?” he teased.
“Forget gentle. Just keep kissing.” She guided him to her neck. “You can say and do anything you want as long as you keep doingthat.” She arched against him. “That feels so good.”
He wanted so much more than they had time for. He claimed her mouth in another greedy kiss, and she grabbed his head, holding him there as they made out like ravenous teenagers.
When the elevator stopped at their floor, he reluctantly tore his mouth from hers. “Christ, Summers. I want to be inside you.”
The elevator doors opened before she could respond with more than a mewing sound that nearly had him pressing theclose doorbutton.
“Better get that I-want-to-fuck-you look off your face before we meet Phoebe,” he said quietly, and pressed his lips to hers again. He laced their fingers together and winked.
“You first.” She squared her shoulders, and in the blink of an eye all that heat washed away, replaced with an enviable look of pure professionalism.
As they stepped into the hall, he asked, “How’d you do that?” Christ, he was hard as steel, and he was sure his expression was as blatant as his erection.
“I mastered that ability the day after we met. Had to. It was either that or sit in meetings all day hot and bothered.”
Damn, did he love knowing that. He kissed her again, and she touched his cheek, her eyes full of mischief, as she palmed his cock through his pants and whispered, “You need more practice.”
“You’re going to be my undoing.”
The office door opened and Phoebe stuck her head out. “Hey there. I thought I heard voices.” She held the door open as they joined her in the office. She wore a sharp black business suit and held a folder against her chest. Her mass of black hair was as wild as ever, flowing halfway down her back in big, thick curls. At about five foot two, she was the smallest of the four Nice sisters. Like Gigi and their other sisters, she’d inherited her father’s sharp blue eyes and keen business sense.
“I’m so glad you could make it.” She hugged Dylan and extended a hand to Tiffany. “Tiffany, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person. I hear you met my sister Gigi.”
“Yes, she was wonderful.” She rolled her shoulders back. “I’m a little sore today, but I had a lot of fun on the trapeze.”
“Unfortunately, you’ll be even more sore tomorrow.” Phoebe handed her the folder. “I’ve compiled all of the pertinent data on each of the spaces we’ll see today. It was tough finding available offices that were small enough and met all of your criteria, but I think you’ll be pleased with what I’ve selected.”
Dylan enjoyed watching Tiffany slip into work mode as she and Phoebe walked the space discussing lighting and square footage, building amenities and security. The space was outfitted with two offices, a kitchen, and a reception area. It was a nice space with a lovely view of the city. Tiffany stood in each of the offices with her arms crossed, concentration knitting her brows. He could practically see the gears in her head churning.
“I’ll wait in the front area so you can discuss it in private,” Phoebe said, before leaving them alone.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I’m thinking of layout and trying to get a handle on how it feels. I like the location, and the view is lovely, but something feelsoff.”
“In what way?” Dylan had never worked in an office, and just the idea of being trapped in one for hours on end made any confined space feeloffto him. But as far as offices went, this one seemed pleasant enough.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. My office represents me and everything my firm stands for. Professionalism, personal service, dedication. So it’s not just about what street it’s located on or if the lighting is right. It’s like when you see someone for the first time and instantly know if you like them or not. It has to be right for that moment of impact. You don’t justseea person or an office or a new car. You see them, of course, but you get a vibe from how it’s presented, what’s around it, what it’s made of. You know how sometimes you meet someone and you get a bad vibe? That’s what this space feels like. Like it’s not the right fit.”
In her explanation he not only felt her passion for getting this right, but it also explained her need to have her voice in every conversation with clients and her eyes on every piece of paper that passed through her office. Her need for control was becoming even clearer. It might have been intensified by having been abandoned by her mother or hurt by an ex, but this passion, this emphasis on making sure she did the best she could in every way, ran soul deep. He couldn’t help but be impressed.
