"I had to call Marianne," she says, waving the paper in her hand. "Figure out what happens next."
"And?"
"And it's complicated." She rubs her temple. “I told her I just need the bad news up front so I can process it before I call herback to figure out the rest. But… I need to go back to Oregon. Face this head-on."
The thought of her leaving sends a cold spike through me, but I nod. "When?"
"Soon. A few days, maybe." She steps forward slightly, lifting her hand to reach for one of the buttons on my shirt. She toys with it absentmindedly for a second. "Do you want to come in?"
The invitation catches me off guard. All I want is to step inside, push her back against the nearest wall, and make her feel what I do. I grind my teeth, fighting for control. If I go in there, I won’t stop at talking. I laugh softly, shaking my head. "I want to. I shouldn't."
She tilts her head, eyes searching. "Why not?"
My control slips. I picture her, hair fisted in my hands, her body under mine, her thighs squeezing my hips. I want her begging for me. I want her to come undone, screaming my name. I want every inch of her marked, knowing I put that look on her face and nobody else.
The force of it stuns me. This isn't casual attraction anymore. This is something hungrier, more desperate.
"Because," I say, voice rougher than I intend, "I'm trying very hard to be a gentleman right now—and walking into your apartment would make that… challenging."
Her eyes go wide. That blush on her skin does something to me. I reach out and claim her jaw with my hand, my thumb tracing her throat. She’s so soft, delicate. My hand could easily span her neck. I want to feel her pulse race under my fingers. I want to watch her submit to my touch.
"Sadie," I whisper, and then I'm kissing her, not gentle like last night, but claiming, my hand sliding to the back of her neck, pulling her against me.
She makes a small, desperate sound against my mouth, her fingers curling into my shirt. I walk her backward, just enoughto press her against the doorframe, my body flush against hers. She tastes like coffee and salt, like she's been crying, and I want to erase every tear with my lips.
It takes everything I have to pull back, breathing hard. Our foreheads rest together, her eyes still closed, her breath coming in quick gasps that match my own.
"Have dinner. With me." I grip her jaw, eyes locked on hers. "Let me take you out, show you how it feels to be the only thing I see in a room. No pressure. Just you and me, where I can keep you close."
She bites her lip and looks away. My gaze drops to her mouth, and all I can think about is biting that lip, sucking the sound of my name out of her throat. I want her looking at me like I’m the only man she’ll ever trust to touch her.
"I don't know if I should," she whispers. "Everything's so complicated right now."
"I know." I run my thumb along her jawline. "But maybe that's exactly why you need a break. Just an hour or two where you're not thinking about lawyers or court dates or the café. Where you're just Sadie."
She lifts her eyes to mine, vulnerable, uncertain. "I haven't been 'just Sadie' in a very long time."
I step in, close enough she feels my body heat. "You will be. With me, you get to be whoever you want. I’m not letting you disappear behind all this shit. You think about it, sweetheart. When you’re ready, you let me know."
Her shoulders relax a fraction, relief flickering across her features. "Okay."
"I should probably go," I say, stepping back to give her space. "Let you get back to your calls."
But I don't move. My feet won't carry me away from her. I stand there, drinking her in, the soft curve of her lips, still pink from our kiss, the way her eyelashes cast tiny shadows onher cheeks, the small beauty mark just below her left ear that I hadn't noticed before.
She shifts under the intensity of my stare. "What?" she asks, voice barely audible.
"Nothing," I murmur. "Just looking at you."
I haul her into me, grip hard at her waist, and let her feel exactly how much I want her. I take her mouth slow, but I make it clear who’s in control. My tongue teases until she opens up for me, soft and needy. She whimpers, and I nearly lose it. Every muscle goes tight. If I push, she’ll let me take her right here.
I kiss her like I'm memorizing her, like I'm drowning and she's air. My hand slides up her back to cradle her head, angling her just right to deepen the kiss further. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, her body melting against mine.
When I finally pull back, we're both breathing hard. I press my forehead to hers, eyes still closed.
"I'm fucked now that I've tasted you," I whisper against her lips, the raw honesty of it surprising even me.
Her eyes flutter open, dark and dazed. For once, there's no fear there, just heat and want and something that looks dangerously close to hope.
