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“Of course,” I say in a firm voice, praying it doesn’t give away the fact my body still tingles from the aftereffects of a mind-blowing orgasm. “Thank you, Thomas.”
“Anytime, ma’am.”
Pushing out a breath, I squeeze my eyes shut, hating everything about this.
“It’s okay.” Creed wraps me in his arms and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Thirty minutes with you is better than zero.”
“I’m sorry it was all I could arrange today. And with Jameson showing up unexpectedly, it ate into the little time we had to begin with. Now I have to send you on your way without making sure you’re taken care of, too.”
“I don’t care about that.” His expression softens as he waggles his brows. “Still got to make you come all over my face. If you ask me, I made out in the deal.” He winks, and I laugh slightly, but it’s not enough to damper my frustration.
“But seriously,” he begins once more, pulling me off the desk, reassuring hands gliding down my arms. “I know things aren’t going to be perfect, that we may have to be content with a few minutes here and there for the time being. Maybe one day, we’ll find a way to spend all the time we want together. Maybe even fall asleep in each other’s arms and not worry about having to wake up early so no one catches on.”
I close my eyes, swallowing hard through the knot in my throat, my heart squeezing. I’d love to subscribe to Creed’s fantasy. Would love to wake up in his embrace and have nowhere to be. Would love not worrying about who might learn the truth.
That will never be our reality, though.
Regardless, I allow myself to live in the world of make believe we concocted back at the beach.
“I’d like that.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Esme
“Hey, stranger,” Harriet says as she opens the door to her townhome in a row house overlooking the canals that snake through the city.
It’s one of my favorite spots, and where I’d want to live.
If I had a choice about things like this.
“Good to see you, Harri,” I reply with a smile, hugging her tightly. Then I follow her into her home, grateful for a night off.
With all the public engagements scheduled for Jameson and me this past month, it’s been ages since I’ve had a night to myself. It’s a miracle I managed to squeeze in as much time with Creed as I have. It still hasn’t been a lot. Usually a half-hour here and there, an hour if we’re lucky.
But like he told me our first day back. Thirty minutes is better than nothing.
We’ve gotten quite good about making the most out of what little time we have together, setting aside ten minutes to go over details for Rory’s shower, then spending the remainder indulging in ourselves.
A part of me feels like I’m using him, especially when he makes me orgasm, then I send him on his way seconds later. Like the only purpose he serves is to get me off.
Whenever those feelings of guilt surface, I remind myself he knew what he was getting into when this began. Still, I can’t shake the feeling he wants more than I can give him. That he wants more than a quick fuck before I leave for some formal event on Jameson’s arm.
And Creed’s scent on my body.
I’ve often wondered if I’m being selfish in keeping him to myself when nothing will ever come from this arrangement. I’ve debated ending things so he could find a girl with whom he can have all the things I’ll never be able to give him. By staying with him, I’m simply delaying the inevitable. Making it more difficult to walk away when the time comes.
With Rory’s shower in three weeks, that time is fast approaching.
Then I think how lonely my days would be without the promise of seeing Creed. The only thing that gets me through most of my obligations is knowing he’ll eventually show up in my office. We may only get thirty minutes together at a time, but those thirty minutes have become everything to me.
“Where’s Marius?” I scan Harriet’s place, brows furrowed when my other friend is nowhere to be found.
They’d insisted I come over tonight for an early birthday celebration before the official dinner party at the palace next week.
Truthfully, a dinner party at the palace is the last way I’d want to celebrate my birthday, but such is my life. No one cares what I want. It’s all about the spectacle.
And I’m just another trained monkey.
