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“Why do you say that?”
“Because he spent the entire time giving me tips on investing. He knows his stuff. When someone knows that much, they’ve used that knowledge to their benefit. So I have to wonder why he’s living where he lives, driving a Honda, and working at the general store.”
“Did you ask him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I just met the guy. I didn’t want to pry or sound like a dick putting down his lifestyle. I think being rich but living a modest life is pretty admirable.”
“Is that why he was giving you advice? So you could be rich and live a modest life?” I pad my way to him.
“No. He wants to ensure I can care for my wife and kids.”
My eyebrows shoot up my head as I wrap my arms around his neck. “You have a wife and kids? Do they know where you were last night? When will they be back? How much time do we have?”
Koen ducks, kissing my neck. “He loves you. It’s painfully obvious.” He kisses my jaw before finding my mouth.
I don’t want to talk about Price. It’s too heartbreaking. And a little heart-confusing. So I press my hands to Koen’s face, kissing him deeper until I need a breath. “Did you clean off your bed for me?”
He grins. “Clean sheets, too.”
“Why? We’re just going to get them dirty.”
“Careful.” He pulls off my sweater, eyebrows peaking in approval when he discovers I’m not wearing a bra. Again, he kisses me.
So, this is what addiction feels like. My head swims from his touch.
“I will not give you back to him if you keep saying things like that,” he whispers, one hand cupping my breast, the other sliding down the back of my linen lounge pants. He moans when he’s greeted with flesh, no underwear.
I packed light.
Koen squeezes my butt, claiming it, and I gasp. If I could catch my breath, I’d tell him I’m not Price’s, but even as I think the words, my heart feels a slight objection.
“We’re not going to make it to the bedroom this time. Sorry,” he mumbles between kisses, walking backward to the sofa. Thesecond he unties my pants, they fall to the floor, where he quickly adds his shorts and briefs.
As soon as my ass contacts the cool, soft leather, he’s inside of me. It’s slow and hard, with an occasional kiss, but mostly, we look into each other’s eyes. I feel like he’s making a statement that I’m his.
I wouldn’t be here with him like this if I didn’t feel the same way.
“I takeit you don’t eat meat,” Koen says as I politely decline the leftover rotisserie chicken and stick to the mango and trail mix as we refuel in his kitchen just after midnight.
“Is that a blowjob reference? Because you haven’t?—”
“No.” He grins before licking his fingers, legs dangling from his perched position on his concrete counter. Tempting me in nothing but his boxer briefs.
I lean against the opposite counter, swimming in his tee. “My mother’s a cardiologist. My father’s a horticulturist. I was raised on veggies. Please don’t ask me where I get my protein.”
He slowly chews and inspects me with a hint of mischief tugging his lips. “I won’t ask you where you get your protein if you don’t ask me where I get my veggies.”
I slide a chunk of mango into my mouth. “Deal.”
“Has that question ended a lot of relationships for you?”
“All of them.” I smirk.
“What about Price?”
