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“To say the least,” I murmur.
“—but clearly, I can’t stay away from you,” Caleb continues. “And I’m sick of fighting it. I want you,” he says, with dizzying intensity. “I want us to try again, if you’ll have me?”
He looks at me, almost hopeful, and I blink in utter shock.
Have him? God yes, in a hundred ways.
But I force myself to take a beat. As much as I’d love to wake up in his arms, every morning, this feels too big to just dive in headfirst. “I’ll need to think about it,” I say slowly, even as my body aches to touch him again.
He gives me a surprised look. I’m sure he’s not used to women turning down this kind of offer. “Which part? Getting back together, or moving in?”
“Both. All of it.” I swallow hard. “I told myself I wouldn’t let you yank me around again,” I admit.
He smirks. “I seem to recall you rather like the yanking.”
My breath catches as I remember our night of exquisite pleasure. The clamps tugging at my taut nipples. A firm hand knotted in my hair.
Caleb’s cock, surging into me, relentless, as I writhed in ecstasy.
I gulp. “I need to think,” I repeat again, even as I want to fall to my knees and feel his hands on me again.
Caleb nods. “Of course. Take as long as you need. And in the meantime, there’s no need for you to be a drowned rat, walking to the subway every day.” He adds a keyfob to the card.
“My Porsche. Drive it. While you think.”
I gape. “Are you serious?”
A car, in Manhattan? I’ve never even dreamed of it. I know I shouldn’t let him spoil me like this—who knows what strings are attached—but God, if I never have to spend another hour pressed up against a sweaty armpit…
He looks amused. “I am, if it puts a smile like that on your face.”
I quickly try to hide my excitement. “I’m only doing this because I hate the subway,” I warn him, grabbing the keys.
“Of course.” Caleb smirks. “Dinner tonight? We could order in. Italian. Relive some of our trip,” he adds, and the look in his eyes tells me exactly which moments he plans on revisiting.
I shiver. “Yes, that sounds nice.”
Nice.
Understatement of the year.
I return to my desk and spend the next three hours trying to get work done, but constantly looking over at the keycard in my drawer .
Living with Caleb… Am I ready to take that step?
I turn it over in my mind. I’m tempted, I can’t deny it. It would be a move forward for us, a sign that he’s serious about making it work, and inviting me into his life.
But for how long?
Three glorious, passionate days in Italy was enough to turn everything around, but I still have a little voice in the back of my mind, warning me to be careful. And as mind-blowing as the sex is, I know it’s not enough to build a future on. I need more than that. Real emotion.
Which Caleb Sterling still keeps under lock and key.
I shake my head. I need a break, I’ve been going over the same questions all morning, so I run out to grab a breath of fresh air and a sandwich, but when I get back, Vicki is waiting with a scowl.
“You missed three calls,” she grouses. “We’re not supposed to let things go to voicemail.”
“Thanks for keeping track,” I say cheerfully, biting back a retort. The office is quiet during the lunch lull, and Caleb is out at a meeting. Which is probably a good thing, if I’m going to focus on updating the expense reports that Vicki has piled into my inbox.
