“As soon as they announce the results, I am cutting Mum out of The Foundation.” He scowled. “I haven't had the energy to fight her with everything else going on, but this is just ridiculous. All anyone is going to talk about is this hideous suit.”
“Do you want to swap then?” I asked as I moved a hand, dropping my head onto his shoulder. I adored the way he sucked in a quick breath as my hand trailed down his bare arm. It was the closest I had been to him in ages.
“Then we'll both look awkward. I can at least save you from her,” he sighed again. “No, I'll just suffer the indignity and let people whisper about why a thirty-one-year-old man still allows his mother to dress him.”
“You’ve been working towards this for so long that you’re basically a natural. There’s nothing to fret over.”
“I’m not fretting,” he said, his eyes slowly closing, giving me a chance to run my gaze over the bare skin of his throat while imagining what I could do to help him relax.
My mind floated back to Christian's offer of escaping with him, but I had someone else I'd rather run away with.
I forced a grin as I eased back so he could pull on his shirt. “You know, if they weren’t announcing the vote, I’d whisk you away to some fabulous destination where you could forget all about The Foundation and your family andyour—”
I cut myself off, my eyes widening before I dipped my head with an awkward cough.
“From my what, Dom?” he asked softly.
Shit, I'd really just stuck my foot in it.
I let him go and straightened, meeting his gaze in the mirror. I’d only just hidden the stupid mix of pain and fucking guilt that hounded me every second I was with him, but it was rearing its head again.
“From your wedding,” I said roughly. “Er, I mean, there’s going to be all that planning and organising. I know how much you hate that kind of thing.”
It was better to say that than ask him to ditch Molly completely for the guy who had been lying to him nonstop since she left.
“Really, though,” I said, stepping in front of him. “How are you doing?”
A nice, natural segue into the one thing about him I wanted to know nothing about.
I unconsciously knocked his hands away from the buttons of his shirt, taking over like I always did before these boring events.
“Can we talk about Molly later? I don’t know if I can think about it just before the vote,” he said.
My hands paused as I reached the middle of the shirt, just below his chest and above his stomach. It was another perfect place to hold him still while I kissed him.
“That’s a strange way to say it,” I replied, keeping my focus on the buttons as I went for the next one.
He never told me about the argument he'd had with her or what kind it was. He probably thought everything was hunky dory with her since we started sexting. I stayed away from casual conversation, like how the wedding was going. Some weird part of me said that lying about Molly's holiday with stories of her family and events was somehow crossing a line.
Sexting? Fine. Talking about the holiday? Cardinal sin.
I ignored the way Harry sucked in his stomach as he frowned at the way his suit hugged his figure. I wanted to tell him he was sexy as fuck as he was. I didn't need him to be anything else.
I couldn’t control myself. Each light brush of my fingers against him sent a new wave of tension rolling through me. I kept my head dipped, focused on the buttons, even though his hands were twitching, and his short breaths were driving me just as mad as the look on his face at brunch.
All I'd needed to do was accidentally slip as I reached the last button, and I could stroke his cock to get him going.
Harry cleared his throat, and I nearly jumped as I whipped my hands back, mentally scolding myself. But the tension was fun.
“Anyway, it’s the same every year, isn’t it?” he replied. His face was nearly expressionless, but his business face was solidly in place. The only way I’d get a reaction from him was to drop to my knees and play out one of my many fantasies.
“You’ll be okay,” I replied, adjusting his collar and sweeping the backs of my nails along the delicate line of his throat.
He naturally arched away from me as I found my favourite birthmark. I wanted to believe he was so used to me touching him that it relaxed him instead of setting him on edge like it used to.
“You’re the strongest person I know,” I said, fixing him with the confident look that got me out of hundreds of bullshit situations. “And you’re going to smash it today with the Board like you do every day.”
He straightened, returning my smile, his shoulders lowering. “I’m not sure what I’d do without you,” he said, his warm voice whispering over me as I met his trusting eyes.
