His question punches right through me, breath snagging. Because haven’t I been asking myself the very same thing since this all began?
Now I’m not sure of anything: who he is, what he’s doing to me, what this evenisonce you take the baby out of the equation.
Heat bites at my cheeks, and I duck my head, staring at the blinking cursor like it holds all the answers.
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll get my lawyers to draw up the contract.’ I scroll just to keep my fingers busy, my body distracted. ‘All that’s left is scheduling. I think a shared calendar will?—’
‘Scheduling?’ He stalks towards me, each step winding my body tighter. ‘Are you forgetting my terms, Baby Girl?’
I swallow the rush and force myself to meet gaze. I’m not. How could I? But…
‘I’m trying to be practical.’
‘So you keep saying.’ He grips my chin, tilting my head back. ‘But let me be clear with you, my terms haven’t changed. I get you when I want. How I want. Where I want.’
My breath falters, pulse spiking with the promise of it all. ‘But we have jobs,’ I try to reason. ‘Commitments?—’
‘You think I care? Make no mistake, Tay, if I’m in the same city as you, I won’t be waiting on a bleeding meeting request. I’ll be tearing down your door.’
Anddammit, that shouldn’t thrill me, but?—
‘Agreed?’
I feel myself nod.
‘Words, Baby Girl.’
God.‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ He releases me, stepping back, and it’s like being cut loose from a cliff edge: too sudden, too disorientating.
‘Ax?’ It comes out breathless. Confused.
I don’t even know what I want to ask. For him to come back. To hold me, kiss me, fuck me. Even with Lottie just next door. Even with no contract.
‘Send me the paperwork when it’s ready; I’ll get it signed.’ He sets his empty glass down and turns for the door. ‘Goodnight, Stone.’
‘Wait, you’releaving?’
He pauses, gaze narrowed: hot, probing, dangerous as fuck. ‘Until you have your contracts, we’re done. Are we not?’
The discussion is done, sure.
But my body…?
His mouth lifts into an almost-smirk, reading everything I haven’t said. The want, the need, the pleading…
‘Or does my Baby Girl want a parting gift?’
Yes. God, yes.
I swallow, mouth too dry to speak, head unwilling to admit it.
He takes hold of my chin again, turning my face side to side. Studying me.Playingwith me. And I shouldn’t let him. I should be smarter than this. I should be keeping it under control. At least until the lawyers?—
‘Your eyes are begging, Baby Girl.’
He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and the traitorous heat rolls through me.
