Rachel was the kind of woman who would make me blink.
I’d take that job for her.
I can still volunteer on free projects during weekends.
But I’d finally have the stability to offer a woman a future. And I wanted that woman to be her.
Pulling Rachel close, my hand settled on her waist. I was on the verge of asking her to give up everything and stay with me when she spoke.
“This is just physical,” she said softly, her voice still breathless. “We can’t get attached, although I will admit that was fire. I’ve never been fucked like that before.”
“Is that what it was?” I asked, calling her out on her lie. “Just something physical?”
She was quiet so long I thought she might not answer.
But then she reached out and stroked my chest. “Yeah, Clayton. That’s what it was.”
Damn it. She was going to pretend that meant nothing?
We both knew the truth.
But I held in my frustrated sigh that wanted to explode into the room.
And instead I just nodded against her hair and told her what she wanted to hear. “Sure, Rachel. If you say so, I’ll go along with that. But you don’t get to leave this mountain until I fuck you one more time,” I rumbled, my fingers already drifting to her curves.
I was going to convince this woman to stay with each thrust of my cock tonight. She wasn’t getting out of this bed until I’d wrecked her.
But first, it was playtime.
Our first time had been explosive.
Now I’d get to take my time and explore this woman.
Chapter 11
Rachel
The morning light had long since turned to afternoon by the time Clayton finally let me out of bed. And even then it was only because my stomach growled loud enough to make him laugh.
“Guess I should feed you,” he said, pressing one last kiss to my neck before rolling away.
I didn’t fight him too hard on staying in bed all day, even though I should be working right now.
What was happening between us was complicated, tangled up in the way his hands felt on my skin and the way my brain kept short-circuiting every time he touched me.
I justified it by telling myself I needed more time to figure out what I was going to do about the claims. Mrs. Andretti’s file sat in my bag like a ticking time bomb, and I still hadn’t decided whether I was going to detonate my career or her life.
But mostly I just wanted to stay wrapped up in him for a little while longer. Losing myself in Clayton was a good way to forget about my worries.
By the time we made it to the kitchen, my body was wrecked in all the best ways. My thighs ached. My lips felt swollen. And there was a pleasant soreness between my legs that reminded me of everything that had happened between us. I felt intoxicated by this man, drunk on his touch.
He’d let me borrow one of his shirts since he’d destroyed my pajama top last night, and I was currently wrapped in one of his old flannels, cozy and warm.
I settled into a mismatched kitchen chair while he moved around the small space, pulling ingredients from the fridge and setting a pan on the stove. Nuts and Bolts watched him with hopeful eyes from their spot by the back door, tails thumping against the floor whenever he glanced their way.
He threw them chunks of sausage scraps, then set a coffee mug in front of me.
I stared down at the cup, steam curling up from the surface. Two spoonfuls of sugar and a splash of cream.Exactlythe way I’d made it for myself yesterday.
