As I make the call, watching Thatcher’s face transform with excitement and disbelief, I realize this is what I’ve been missing. Not just the sex, though God knows it’s incredible, but this—making someone I care about happy. Seeing pure joy on his face is the best prize I could ever win.
“We’re cleared for the private elevator in an hour,” I tell him when I end the call. “Think you can wait that long?”
His answer is a kiss, quick and impulsive. When he pulls back, his eyes are bright with happiness.
“Thank you,” he says softly. “For this, for everything. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Just be yourself. That’s more than enough.”
As we walk toward the hotel to change for our evening adventure, I catch our reflection in a storefront window.
We look like the one thing I never dared to believe I could have, even when I was with Lior and was certain we’d be each other’s forever.
Of all the dangerous thoughts I could have about Thatcher, this one is by far the most catastrophic.
21
THATCHER
I lie on my side,facing Pierce, my arm tucked under my head for a better view. My free hand hovers inches from his chest, wanting to touch but not wanting to disturb this moment.
The morning light catches the silver threading through his dark hair, and I can see the faint lines around his eyes that appear when he smiles, which he’s been doing a lot more of lately.
His breathing is deep and even, lips slightly parted, and there’s a relaxed set to his shoulders that I rarely see when he’s awake. Even in sleep, he’s beautiful in that understated way that makes my fingers itch for my sketchbook. But I don’t want to move, don’t want to risk waking him when he looks this peaceful.
The last three days have been incredible. Working with Diego and the New York team has been really fun. Pierce has been in and out of meetings, reviewing budgets and systems with the kind of focused intensity I’ve come to associate with his work.
I’ve loved watching him in action here, seeing howrespected he is, how other executives defer to his expertise. He’s had several phone calls with Lior that didn’t require my help, so I had a chance to spend more time with Diego and his team. We even had a video call with Geoff and Priya, which apparently was the first time that ever happened.
But more than the work, I’ve been falling deeper for the man sleeping soundly in front of me. Away from the glass walls of our usual environment, Pierce has let me see sides of him I never knew existed. The way he laughs at street performers, how he insists on buying something from every sidewalk vendor we pass, the way he keeps talking about my art like every sketch matters.
And the sex… God, the sex has been a revelation. Pierce has let me draw him afterward, when he’s loose-limbed and glowing, completely unselfconscious. Those sketches are my favorites. Pierce, orgasm-drunk and trusting, letting me capture him in his most vulnerable moments. He takes my breath away.
“Mmm,” Pierce murmurs, eyes opening to find me watching him. His smile is soft and unguarded, the kind I’m learning he reserves for early mornings and post-orgasm bliss. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I reply, leaning down to kiss him softly. He tastes like sleep and softness, and I want to lose myself in him all over again.
“Big day today,” he says when we break apart, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “Are you excited about the conference?”
The question makes my stomach flip from anticipation to anxiety in record time.
“My mind was nowhere near the conference until just now, but suddenly, I’m terrified. What if I cause an accident?What if there’s a flood or a fire? What if I trip over someone and all the exhibition stands collapse like dominoes?”
Pierce laughs. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Have you met me?” I protest, sitting up and running my hands through my hair. “Yesterday, I nearly caused a wasp invasion in the New York office. A wasp invasion, Pierce! Who does that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I bought Diego a plant for his desk at the farmers’ market during my lunch break to thank him for all the support he’s given me this week. A beautiful little succulent that was supposed to brighten up his workspace. Except, it apparently came with its own free wasp nest hidden in the soil. Diego saved the day by noticing it before I put the plant on his desk, but can you imagine? ‘Hi, nice to meet you, here’s a plant full of angry wasps for your office.’”
Pierce is full-on laughing now, the sound rich and delighted. “You are one of a kind, Thatcher.”
“It’s not funny! I could have gotten someone stung. Or caused a building evacuation. Or?—”
My spiraling anxiety is cut off as Pierce flips us smoothly, pressing me into the mattress with a kiss that steals my breath. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with intent.
“How can I help you relax?” he murmurs against my lips.
