Chapter Thirty-Seven

Now

My phone is off while I stay with Audrey on Sunday. I’m leery of going to work on Monday, but I push that thought aside. I like my job and I don’t want to let my personal life ruin that.

I borrow a suit from Audrey for work Monday morning, making me feel like a million bucks. There’s a reason people spend so much money on clothes. I’ve heard the saying that clothes make the person but never realized how true that is until slipping into a thousand-dollar suit. I’ll feel horrible if something happens to it, but Audrey waves her hand as if I’m foolish. She assures me they’re just clothes and clothes are replaceable.

My morning flies by without a problem, without a sign of Kaden. But as lunchtime nears he approaches me. I see an unreadable expression on his face.

“Come eat with me,” he says. Two women I work next to gather their belongings and head downstairs to the deli. I’m supposed to go with them, but they smile and say goodbye without looking back. If the boss wants to change your lunch plans, there’s no arguing.

I’m not thrilled, but I obediently stand and follow him to his office. If he wants lunch, I’d much rather it happen in public. But there are too many people in the offices, and I don’t want to have a tantrum and make a scene. If I want employees talking about us, making a scene is a good way to accomplish it.

We arrive in his office without speaking a word. He closes the door and I see that food was already delivered. He was sure I’d come back with him. Of course he was. People don’t deny him what he wants.

“Look, Kaden . . .” The silence feels like a weight dragging me beneath icy water. “We made a mistake, thinking we could jump into an affair. It’s not who I am. I don’t think it’s who you are either. You’re a respected businessman in this community, and you need to be more discreet in your personal affairs. I think we should admit this isn’t working. Yes, there’s sexual tension, and yes, it’s obvious I want you, but we can both agree to get over it and have nothing more than a working relationship from here on out.”

I’m proud how calm I sound as I give my pre-rehearsed speech. It’s clear and precise and there’s no wavering in my tone. He listens as if he hears me. There’s a flare in his eyes, but other than that he doesn’t give a reaction.

“I’m sorry about Saturday night. I . . . I was caught unaware in the car. I don’t do relationships. I don’t develop feelings. But you are sliding past my defenses and I . . . I don’t know how to handle it so I shut down. I know I hurt you.”

An apology seems foreign from his lips. I know it isn’t something he normally does. My defenses are instantly shattered at the vulnerability in his voice. I want to protect him, want to help him.

“You’re a man who knows what he wants. You like sex without commitment. There’s nothing wrong with that if your partner feels the same. I thought I could be that way, thought I could do that since my husband doesn’t want me. But I can’t have sex with someone and have them treat me like a whore. Even if that’s what I’m being.” The last words are spoken barely above a whisper.

He moves quickly, approaching me and tugging me against him. There’s fire in his eyes.

“Don’t!” His voice is a low growl. “We have something together, something that doesn’t happen every day. I’ll admit it scares the shit out of me. I’ll even admit I saw you and branded you, instantly wanted you. But that has changed. You are not a whore. Don’t ever say that again!”

“What do you want from me?” I ask. I know he wants sex, but it seems he wants more. I’m confused and vulnerable.

“I don’t know what I want,” he says, his voice rising. He’s angry, but it isn’t me he’s upset with; the situation is throwing him off balance, something he isn’t used to. He isn’t sure what to think about it, what to do about it. I completely understand how he is feeling.

His heart thuds against mine, and he leans forward, placing his forehead to mine. It’s such a gesture of submission, of vulnerability; my heart melts. He’s as scared of these feelings as I am.

I’m terrified, because I’ve developed real feelings for him. I never expected that to happen. I should feel more guilt, but I don’t. I feel too good with him. It seems right. Can I be in love with two people at once? What kind of a person does that make me?

I wrap my arms around him, and we stay like that for several moments. Neither of us thinks about the food waiting for us. Neither of us is thinking about anything outside of this embrace.

“Kiss me,” I say. I’ve made up my mind.

He pulls back and looks in my eyes. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve made my decision. Maybe I’ll regret it, but I can’t walk away from him.

Fire is always brewing beneath the surface with him, lighting his eyes. He wraps his hands beneath my butt and pulls me up as he moves toward the couch. His lips settle on mine. It’s a gentle kiss — a relieved kiss.

But as soon as he lays me down and covers my body with his, all gentleness evaporates. It has been too long in coming. We need each other too badly. Our clothes are shed in a rush as we fight with buttons and zippers.

His mouth trails across my neck, down my chest, and over my trembling stomach. I turn him as he sheds the last of his clothes, needing to taste him as he has tasted me. His body is utter perfection, not a single pinch of extra flesh on him. He’s solid and smooth, tanned and beautiful.

My mouth trails across his chest, my tongue circling his nipples. He moans as I suck one. My core tightens and tingles. I’m on fire. He tastes as good as he smells.

I pull his pants off, gasping as he springs free, his thickness greater than I imagined. He’s smooth and hard, thick and long. I wrap my fingers around him and slide them up and down. A shiny gleam is on him, giving me lubrication to pleasure him.

I have to taste him. My mouth circles his thick crown and I groan around him as my fingers squeeze him. He’s delicious. His fingers clench in my hair, tugging hard as I move my mouth up and down his length. His body is tense, his legs tremble.

“Enough,” he groans, pulling on me. I want more. I want his hardness buried deep inside me.

He flips me over to my back, no clothes between us. I’m mesmerized by the passion in his eyes as he lies over me. He kisses me and I hold on tight, our mouths colliding.

His hands are on my hips. He moves his head as if he’s going to explore my body more, but I cling to him. I don’t want that. I want him buried within me.

“Condom,” I pant. “I want you now.”

“Yes.” He reaches for the table next to the couch, pulls open the drawer, and the beautiful sound of a condom packet ripping open is a symphony to my ears. He quickly sheaths himself then positions his body over mine.

“Look at me,” he demands.

I open my eyes and gaze into his. He clutches my hips and I can’t turn away. Our bodies are damp with arousal. We’re both ready. He kisses me one more time before leaning back. Then he begins pressing into me.

He is so thick, so hard. I stare at him, completely lost in his gaze as he buries himself deeper. He rests for a moment as my body adjusts to him. We fit beautifully.

Then we move together, both of us frantic to know each other, to complete this journey in an explosion of pleasure. Our moans ring through the room as he thrusts in and out of me. Pressure builds. He kisses me, hard and rough, as he pushes harder and harder, faster and faster.

I can’t do much more than hold on tight and pray I’m not lost forever. The orgasm takes me by surprise, ripping through me, leaving me bare and vulnerable without any defenses. He follows quickly behind me, crying out my name as he finds his release.

It takes a long time for us to come down from the high we found together. He doesn’t let me go, doesn’t disconnect from me. I cling tightly, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting to return to the real world.

But reality settles in. There’s no other choice. We disconnect, finally get dressed. I’m unable to talk, not sure how I feel. Can we walk from his office without either of us saying a word to the other?

“This is right, Miranda. Don’t think it isn’t,” Kaden says.

I turn and look at him. Do I have regrets? I don’t.

“Thank you.” He gave me a gift I didn’t realize I needed.

“This has just begun,” he promises.

“I know.” I smile at him.

Whether it’s right or wrong, we’re in this together. I’m not sure what will happen next. I don’t think either of us have any idea. I just know we finally jumped off the cliff together.