Chapter Twenty-Two
Anthony
“I don’t think two weeks have ever passed as fast as these two.” I shake my head as I rearrange the notes for the presentation. I should have these all memorized by now, seeing as I’ve been through them dozens of times.
“Two weeks haven’t passed,” Jane reminds me with one of her patented wry smiles. Her eyes dance. “It’s only been ten days.”
“Cute.” I have to smile, because she is cute. More than cute. Beautiful and sexy and smart and sweet...she’s everything.
It’s amazing that we’ve been able to get any work done at all, really. We’re in that amazing bubble a couple lives in during the early days of a relationship. And it is a relationship, much to my surprise. Even more shocking is that it doesn’t freak me out to use the ‘r’ word.
When we’re not having sex, we’re sleeping in between sessions or making out or talking on the phone when we can’t be together. And, somehow, in the middle of it all, we’ve put together a killer presentation. A lot of it, I know, has to do with the fact that Jane multi-tasks during sex, and I don’t mean that just because she does things with her mouth and hands that should be illegal. She actually likes to brainstorm for ideas while we’re cuddling. Or, not cuddling, because I don’t do that. I’m sure there’s a more manly word for it. Whatever it’s called, I’ve gotten more done in the time I’m with her than I normally get done in weeks. Maybe months.
And what we’re coming up with is really, really good. I keep asking myself if I’m not being just a little overly optimistic, but every time I look at the ideas Jane and I have come up with together, I can’t help but feel proud. I couldn’t do any of this without her, and I know it. What’s more, so does she. But she needs me, too. We need each other, and that’s something completely new for both of us.
It’s strange that we grew up in two totally different worlds, but there’s still so much we have in common. A feeling that it’s us against the world. Loneliness even when we’re surrounded by people. Wearing a mask.
I know there are things she’s hiding. I can see it on her face and in her eyes that she wants to tell me but can’t. Not yet. My gut tells me that at least one of those things is the reason why that first night ended with her running away. But as much as I want to know, I want to prove to her that she can trust me.
“Where should the stats go?” she asks from where she’s creating charts of competitor sales. “I mean, there’s an argument for putting them in the beginning of the presentation, just to get them out of the way, but there’s also one for putting them in the middle and opening with something really strong to catch their attention, reel them in.”
“Let’s go with the middle and run through the presentation that way. We’ll see how it feels.”
It’s bizarre, working on an actual presentation, molding the ideas we come up with together, turning them into something better than I ever could’ve imagined. I feel like a real, honest-to-God ad man. Me. The guy who used to swear I wanted nothing to do with Dad’s business. I’m actually good at it.
“Where do you want to do dinner tonight?” I ask when my stomach rumbles.
She pouts as she turns. “We’re taking time out for dinner?” She reaches out and toys with one of my buttons.
Another appetite roars to life within me. “You’re insatiable.”
“It’s all your fault.” She stretches up and plants a soft kiss on my waiting lips. Even that little bit of contact is electric, but it doesn’t keep me from seeing the hint of a shadow that crosses her face.
One of those secrets.
I don’t call her on it, though.
“I hate to spoil things for you, but I need to eat if you want me to have any energy. Sorry.” I toss her a wink and dedicate myself to finishing for the day so we can get the hell out of the office. And into a bed.
Now that she has me thinking along carnal lines, I can’t think about anything else but being inside her, feeling her underneath me, above me. Fuck. I have it bad.
“To answer your question, it doesn’t matter where we go for dinner. You know me. I’m pretty simple when it comes to things like that.” Her smile is warm and genuine. “I’m just happy to be with you. Happier than, well, than I can remember ever being.”
I wish I could explain to her how she makes me feel when she says things like that. Like a king. Just the thought that I could make a woman like her happy is unreal. She’s turning me into a better person just by being with me because I want to be better for her.
“You don’t want to go to some big, fancy place?” I joke. “What’s the point of sleeping with the boss if you don’t take advantage by going out for expensive dinners?”
Her laugh reminds me of the sound of bells. “Please. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself in a big, fancy place. Or even a small, fancy place. I could hardly handle eating dinner in your apartment that first night.” She flushes.
That gives me pause, but not because I remember what happened after dinner. I look up from my laptop. She’s sitting on the sofa against the wall, working on her own laptop.
“Hang on a sec. Does it make you uncomfortable going to places like that with me?” I get up and cross over to her. “I’m used to it. I barely even notice it anymore. I didn’t think about your feelings.”
She blushes. “That’s sweet.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That I didn’t think about your feelings?”
“That you even thought to ask me at all, dope.” She shakes her head with a giggle. “I love life here. I love what we’re doing together. Working with you, I feel like a kick-ass career woman in a rom-com or TV show.” She pauses, then adds, “But really? I sort of miss the simpler life.”
I smile at the confession. “You mean the way you grew up?”
“Yeah, but minus the foster home.”
Another of those shadows crosses her face, vanishing a bit slower this time.
“Country life. I miss that.” Her expression grows wistful. “Or maybe I just miss what I always thought it could be. Quiet mornings, the smell of coffee in the kitchen. Taking a cup out to the front porch and watching the sun rise. Watching fireflies at night in the summer. Knowing the neighbors. That kind of thing. Everything’s so crazy, but so isolated at the same time here, you know? So many more people, but so much less connection.”
She never ceases to amaze me. She’s not only deeper and kinder than any woman I’ve ever known. She manages to make small-town life look appealing, something I never would’ve imagined possible before meeting her. Just another way she makes me a better man.
I reach for her hand and pull her up hard enough for her to crash against my chest. “Forget eating out. We’ll order in.”
With our eyes locked together, I reach down and slide my hand between her legs. The door’s closed, but we’re both aware of how easily someone could come in. She doesn’t stop me, though. Instead, she lets out a little moan and rocks her hips forward, a clear encouragement.
I move my hand higher, then stare down at her in shock as I meet bare flesh. Her cheeks are stained red.
“Are you trying to kill me, Jane?” My voice is hoarse. My cock presses painfully against my zipper.
She bites her bottom lip and peers up at me through her lashes. “I thought you said you were hungry.”
Fuck.
Who the hell taught this woman to be so damn innocent and seductive all at once?
***
I can’t get enough of her. She’s right outside my office door and somehow I’m even more aware of her today than I was yesterday. Part of that could be because now every time I look at my desk, all I can picture is how last night I picked her up and put her on my desk, then dropped to my knees and made her scream.
Sort of.
We were at work, so I couldn’t actually make her scream, but I ate her out for at least a half hour and gave her five orgasms, so I feel pretty confident that she would’ve been screaming if she hadn’t bit down on the side of her hand.
I wonder if she’s thinking of it, too. If the faint marks on her hand remind her of what it was like to have my face buried in her pussy, her hand in my hair, egging me on.
Dammit.
I’m rock hard, and there’s no relief in sight.
She’s so close, but so far. We weren’t far apart earlier this morning in the shower. I smile a little at the memory of our soapy bodies sliding against each other as I picked her up and took her against the wall.
Yeah, that’s not really helping the whole erection problem I have right now.
A brisk knock at the door stirs me back to reality, and I wave in the random clerk who hands me an interoffice envelope. It’s a good thing I wait until I’m alone to open it because the envelope holds only one thing: a pair of panties I remember watching Jane slide into earlier.
I reach down and adjust myself and take all of thirty seconds to consider the possible ramifications of what I want to do before hitting the intercom button.
“Miss Ward, I have a situation here that needs your immediate attention.”
Judging by the smirk on her face when she comes in, she knows exactly what the situation is. She closes the door, turns the lock, and then makes her way across the office.
“Where do you want me?” she asks. “On my knees...or on your lap?”
I somehow know this is going to be the hardest decision I make today.