She grins. “I was wondering when you were going to say something.”
I raise a brow, hoping she’ll continue.
“I had to wash them, sorry, hope that doesn’t ruin their luck, but I simply couldn’t walk around my brother and sister with that gigantic cum stain on the front.”
I laugh gently. “You know what they say, the bigger stain, the bigger the-.”
She holds up her hand and shakes her head, a smile on her face. “I’m aware just how big you are. I don’t need to be reminded.”
I stick out my chest and she laughs easily.
“Do you want them back?”
And because I’m fucking smitten for this woman and like the thought of her wearing them around her family I say, “No. They look much better on you.” I also hope she thinks about me every time she puts them on.
“Are you okay to head out now? If it’s too late, you can always crash on the couch here until the morning.”
“Nope, I’ll be fine. I enjoy the drive,” I lie because I’m dreading leaving her when it feels like we’re getting along outside of being naked. Plus, this long drive back to the city sounds painful. For my hand. My dick. And my head.
She smiles. “Thanks again for bringing my wallet.”
“Thanks for dinner.”
Now we’re just awkwardly thanking each other.
She hesitates and then starts to walk towards the door before opening it slightly. Guess she’s ready for this night to be over.
“You know, there’s something that’s been bothering me about your penthouse.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“You don’t have anything personal in there. No photos, no witty signs, no sweatshirts from your college football team laying around. There’s nothing that says someone lives in the home full time. I didn’t even know it was your place because there’s nothing there that says Cain or Prescott. Why is that?”
I don’t know how to answer her. The truth is that the penthouse has always been just a place to crash—a bed to rest my head after long days in court, cross-country work trips, or client dinners. The night I met her in Bryant Park had been a rare escape, one of the few times I allowed myself to step outside of my structured schedule and let loose.
I rarely indulge in anything just for the sake of enjoyment and entertainment. City life is something I only engage with when it’s tied to work. Maybe that’s why things had felt so easy between us that first night. We were both doing something outside of our usual routines, and it made everything flow naturally.
Now that I think about it, all four of the times we’ve run into each other has been because I’ve done something out of my norm.
Ironic that to meet someone like her, I had to break the routine that I’ve clung to like a second skin for years.
“I’m rarely there, and it’s never felt like a home. I didn’t see the point in decorating it.”
She nods, biting down on one of her lips as she digests my words. I wonder what she thinks about that considering her home iswarm, inviting, decorated and very well lived in. This place is relaxing to her, a break from the grind. Meanwhile, my house is an extension of my career. It’s not an oasis of relaxation; it’s practically a second office. Hers is warm. Mine is cold. Hers is decorated. Mine is barren.
“Okay, well, take care of your hand…” she trails off.
I’m not sure if I should give her a hug or a kiss on the cheek. Hell, I don’t know anything anymore when it comes to her. I feel like I’ve learned more about her tonight than I have any woman I’ve ever dated before. So, instead of deciding, I simply step over the threshold and head toward my car, feeling like a failure and thoroughly confused as fuck.
“See you around, Cain!” she calls after me, her voice echoing as she shuts the front door behind her.
See me around in a city of nearly nine million people?
Unlikely, but I’m going to make sure of it…
Chapter 18– Rhiannon
I’ve been putting off cleaning Cain’s penthouse all day.
