I shake my head. “No. I ate with Sabrina. I just worried you wouldn’t make time for lunch. I knew you were busy.”
“Shit, babe.” His gaze meets mine. “That was really nice of you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” I say, a smile playing on my lips. “I wanted to. You work hard. You deserve to eat.” I pat his thigh, letting my hand linger a beat.
I glance at my watch. “I should probably get going, actually.” I pull my hand back and stand. “What time will you be home tonight?” I’m genuinely curious because I like to know, but also, I want to hang out with him tonight.
He stands too, letting out a heavy breath. “Shit. I don’t know. Probably going to be a late one. But I’ll try to sneak out early and finish my work at home.”
“Alright.” I just stand there, lingering, like I’m waiting for him to do or say something to satisfy this urge I have to be near him.
“Did Harper give you a tough time again?” His mouth twitches. “His wife?” He chuckles low. “That was a jab. A power play.”
My cheeks heat. God, that was a bitchy thing to do. So she’s got a crush on Matt. Who wouldn’t? Am I really that threatened by her? She’s not even his type.
“I’m sorry. That was petty.”
He stops me. “Not petty. You stated facts. She was probably shocked to hell, but hey—someone had to tell her.” He grins, slipping his fingers through mine. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
I follow him down the hall to the reception area, and he stops right in front of Harper. He turns to me, hands sliding to my hips like he doesn’t want me going anywhere yet.
“Have a good rest of your day,” he says, his gaze directly on me.
I’m not sure what to do with my hands—mostly because I’m not sure what he’s doing.
They land somewhere between his stomach and chest, sliding toward his back.
Harper’s sitting at her desk, pretending to type, but I can feel her watching.
God, it’s hot in here.
Matt’s thumbs press lightly at my waist, and then his hands lift until he’s cupping my face.
My breath catches. My pulse grows louder.
Holy shit.
His lips press against mine—slow, deliberate. Like he has nothing to do and nowhere to go.
I soften into him without thinking, kissing him back like it’s all too familiar, remembering this. The way he feels. The way he tastes. The way my body reacts.
It’s not quick. Not polite.
And it’s not for show, either.
It’s Matt.
Claiming me.
His way of telling Harper to fuck off without saying a word, because he doesn’t have to. He’s just kissing his wife.
And it’s hot as hell.
He starts to pull back, but my hand is already sliding up his chest and around his neck as I crush my mouth into his again, harder this time.
My brain tells me to stop.
My mouth doesn’t listen.
