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“I need to go back to your place and get some clothes.”
“No need. Theodore brought you some. They should be in the office. No one should be here yet.”
“You had Teddy bring me some clothes?” I ask, surprised even though I probably shouldn’t be. I’ve seen over the last few weeks how thoughtful he is.
“Yes, I hope that’s okay.”
I shrug nonchalantly. “You know that means he probably went through my panty drawer. Doesn’t that make you jealous?”
I’m not sure what response I expect, but it’s not him letting out a rumbly laugh.
“Please, if Theodore had wanted you, he would’ve stolen you right out from under me by now. I would’ve had no choice.”
I adopt The Thinker pose. “What makes you think he hasn’t?”
“Sassy little wench,” Kingsley growls, reaching over to slap me on the ass before strolling naked to the shower.
I lie back on the bed, enjoying the view.
He’s exquisite.
I’ve had my fair share of lovers—no great number, and many of them awkward one-time encounters with passing travelers in the night.
But not one of his caliber.
He made me feel things I didn’t know could be and couldn’t have imagined humans could feel.
I’m surprised when I look down at my body and it doesn’t look transformed.
I’ve been fucked by Kingsley Baxter, and it feels like I should look different to match the way I feel.
We alternated between having sex and napping and talking all through the night.
I told him I didn’t feel like I wasn’t getting any closer to understanding what I’m supposed to be doing with my money, with the business, and he helped me write down a plan of things I think he needs to cover.
I expressed that I will soon need to see for myself how Hamilton works and have a day-to-day view of what its current projects are. Although he hadn’t actually said that was a good idea, he also didn’t disagree, and if I know anything about him by now, if he didn’t agree with something, he’d make that known.
Like when I told him that we should go back to the house and split up into our own beds so that he could get some sleep.
That was met with a vehement “no” and a slow and punishing session of oral sex, during which he edged me for almost an hour before finally letting me come after I begged him, then almost passed out from the orgasm.
The shower turns off and I jump to my feet, not wanting him to think I was just lazing in bed while he was up and about getting ready. I grab his discarded shirt and throw it on as I open the door to his office.
As he said, there’s an overnight bag sitting on his desk with what I’m going to guess is a change of clothing for me.
I skip over and peek inside.
Theodore has packed two outfits for me—a dress and a pantsuit—including a hairbrush and my makeup bag.
“Kingsley, whatever you’re paying Theodore, it isn’t enough!” I shout through the open door.
“Trust me, it’s enough!” he responds with amusement, moving around the apartment getting ready.
I grab the bag and am about to step over the threshold back into the apartment when I hear the sound of his office door swing open.
A woman steps inside, her perfume filling the room instantly.
Thick. Suffocating.
