"Sounds like you've given this some thought," she teases.
"More than I should have," I admit. "Especially during board meetings when I should have been focusing on financial projections."
She laughs, the sound filling me with unexpected joy. "And here I thought you were always laser-focused on business."
"You're very distracting, Ms. Carter," I say, allowing my hands to wander down her back again, tracing the dip of her spine.
"I could say the same about you, Mr. Morrison," she replies, her fingers toying with the hair on the nape of my neck. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to concentrate when you roll up your sleeves in the office?"
This surprises a laugh out of me. "My forearms? Really?"
"Really," she confirms, running her hands down my arms as if to demonstrate. "It's very... affecting."
"I'll keep that in mind," I promise, making a mental note to roll up my sleeves more often when we return to New York.
If we return to normal in New York. The thought brings me up short. What happens when this vacation ends? When we're back in the real world with real consequences for crossing professional boundaries?
Elena must sense my shift in mood. "What is it?" she asks, drawing back slightly to see my face.
"Just thinking about what happens next," I admit. "After this island."
"Ah." She nods, her expression growing more serious. "The real world."
"Elena, I need you to know… This isn't just a vacation fling for me. Not some exotic island fantasy that ends when we board the plane home."
Her eyes soften. "It's not for me either, Michael."
"But it complicates things," I continue. "You work for me. There are policies, ethics considerations."
"I know," she says quietly. "I've thought about all that too."
"We'll figure it out," I promise, not entirely sure how but determined nonetheless. "If this is something we both want to explore."
"It is," she says without hesitation. "For me, at least."
"For me too," I assure her, pulling her close again. "Definitely for me too."
Chapter 10 - Elena
"For me too," Michael assures me, pulling me close again. "Definitely for me, too."
I stare at him, thunderstruck. Is this really happening? Am I sitting in Michael Morrison's lap on a private beach, his arms around me, his lips still warm from our kiss? I blink hard, half-expecting the scene to dissolve like a mirage.
But he remains solid and real before me, his dark eyes watching me. The setting sun casts golden light across his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw with its perfect five o'clock shadow, turning his skin to burnished bronze. He looks like something from a fantasy—my fantasy—yet here he is, touching me, wanting me.
My breath comes faster as heat pools low in my belly. I can’t help but notice every point where our bodies connect—my thighs bracketing his, his hands at my waist, his throbbing cock pressing against me through our swimwear.
God, I want him. All of him. Right here on this beach with the waves as our soundtrack and the sand beneath us. I want to feel his weight above me, want to taste every inch of his skin, want him inside me where I've ached for him through countless office meetings and late-night work sessions.
"Elena?" Michael's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Where did you go just now? You seemed a million miles away."
I drop my gaze, suddenly embarrassed by the direction of my thoughts. "I'm sorry. I just... I can't believe this is happening."
His fingers gently lift my chin, bringing my eyes back to his. "What's going on in that brilliant mind of yours?"
"You can't judge me," I whisper, gathering my courage. "I know I said I didn’t want to do everything here… But I was wrong. I want more than just kissing, Michael. Much more. I want everything."
His eyes widen slightly, "I was hoping you'd say that," he murmurs, his hand sliding to the small of my back. "Because I want everything with you too, Elena."
