“Oh, it wassomething, alright. Although maybe not … romantic?” I say, proposing the last word as more of a question.
“Hmm. Something tells me you aren’t really the wine and dine type. Maybe more of adessertperson.” He smirks, nodding his head toward the ground. I follow his gaze, throwing a hand over my mouth and nearly choking on a piece of bacon. He dares to grin at me like a fool.
“OhmyGod.” I laugh, hopping off the barstool to pick up the ice cream scoop and wine cork from the floor that we couldn’t be bothered to pick up last night.
“I left those there just for you, darling. In case you needed a reminder.” He’s still smirking at me, and if it wasn’t so freaking adorable, I’d smack it right off his face.
“Yeah, ya know, now that you say it, whatdidwe do last night? My mind seems to be a little fuzzy,” I joke, knowing damn well what we did last night.
His eyes burn with an intensity that wasn’t there two seconds ago. For a second, I think he might strike like he’s a viper and I’m his prey.
“Oh, you think you’re smart, do ya?” My eyes flick down as he flips his fork over and places it on his tongue, closing his mouth around it and sucking.
“Sosmart,” I answer, and it comes out raspier than I intend. Thatstupid, talented tongue. I meet his gaze again. He pulls the fork out and sets it down, running his hands through his already tousled hair. My hands are suddenly jealous of his. His eyes drift to the mostly empty plate in front of him, and he seems to be somewhere else entirely.
“You’re the calm in the chaos.” His words are so low that I’m almost sure I imagined them. I’m about to ask him to repeat them when he turns toward me. The blank expression he wore seconds before is nowhere to be found. He jumps up from the bar stool and lifts me from behind.
“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing and kicking my feet. He startsticklingme, walking me toward the sofa, and tosses me down onto it softly. He climbs on top of me to continue his playful assault. I’m laughing so hard I’m almost crying, and he’s somehow aware of all the most sensitive places. He starts laughing too as we tumble from the sofa and onto the ground. He cups my head in his hands and rolls until I’m on top of him.
We both stop laughing at the same time. Our eyes meet, and something inside of me snaps right into place. His hand lifts, brushing the hair from my face and pushing it behind my ear. I move toward him, our lips nearly touching, when I hear my phone ring.
I sigh, dropping my forehead down to rest on his chest. I consider not answering. The ringing finally stops, only to start again.
“You should probably—”
“Get that,” I finish his sentence, pushing off of him to stand and walk over to my phone on the kitchen island. I look downat it and see “Alex” across the screen, which has me instantly checking the time.
“Shit,” I say. Riven stands from the floor and comes over to me, taking a seat on the stool next to me.
“Hi, Alex, I—” I say, answering my phone.
“Sloane! Geez, you had me worried for a second when you didn’t show for work this morning.” There’s genuine concern in his voice, and it makes me feel like shit.
“I know, I know. I’m so sorry, Alex. I’m getting dressed now. I’ll be there soon,” I say, standing from the barstool.
“Take your time. I’m just glad you’re okay. And Sloane, I’m … sorry about the file. You obviously saw it, and I—I should have called you right when it hit my desk.” I cringe, feeling a little bad for leaving it wide open and onmydesk when I left.
“It’s fine, Alex. We can talk about it when I get in. I’ll see you soon,” I say, hanging up. I look at it for a few seconds before bringing my gaze back to Riven. He’s tense. His eyes assess mine as his jaw flexes.
“That was my boss. I was supposed to be at work an hour ago,” I say. He relaxes. “Why didn’t you tell me what time it was?” I tease.
“I was a little distracted,” he teases back.
“So, I should probably get ready,” I say, throwing a thumb over my shoulder toward the stairs.
He clears his throat, standing. “Of course, yeah. I have a meeting for work, and I also need to get ready for it.” He grabs his shirt and sweatpants hanging over the sofa, throwing them back on while I clear the plates in the kitchen. He walks up behind me as I’m putting the plates in the sink. I feel his breath near my right ear, and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand.
“Until next time, darling,” he whispers. I turn, and he’s already halfway to the door with his hands in the pockets of hisjoggers. A man should not look that good doing something as ordinary as walking away. I stand there at the sink, watching until he walks out the door.
? ? ?
I’m not sure what I’m feeling as I make the drive to Obsidian Press. Last night was unexpected, andwild, and dangerous in the way that your favorite guilty pleasure might be. But it was also beautiful and soraw. The things I let him do to me. I’ve never in my life been so open about my desires. I’ve never allowed anyone to see those parts of myself that I’ve kept behind lock and key my entire life. He didn’t even have to break in to find it, and he didn’t run from it. Instead, he met me in the dark, and our shadows danced in recognition.
His words replay in my mind. “You’re mine.”
Mine.His. I should probably be running from the red flags and the alarm bells. But instead, I find myself suddenly wanting to join the color guard. Images of me frolicking in a field with a couple of giant red flags flash through my mind. Cue the bells, too, because I donotwant to run from this. In fact, I want to run full speed into whateverthisis and let it consume me whole. Riven Reilly is not a man you walk away from. And even if I wanted to, I’m not sure he’d even allow it.
I show up to work at 11:03 am. It’s a Monday, so it’s pretty busy. I nearly get run over by an intern carrying a stack of folders as I make my way to Alex’s desk. He spots me walking over and stands.
