between us had been momentarily satiated, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. In fact, I was thoroughly confused.
I heard water run and shut off then the soft sound of his footsteps as he padded back into the bedroom. I tried not to recoil as he curled around me from behind, sliding his hand over my ribcage to lace his fingers with mine in front of my abdomen. I didn’t do a very good job because he squeezed me slightly.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked quietly.
He’d asked me the same thing yesterday. “No,” I answered, my voice just as soft.
“Then why did you flinch when I touched you?”
I closed my eyes tightly. The answer to that question was complicated and more than I wanted to share.
So, I lied. Again. “I’m ticklish and you ran your hand along my ribs.”
He squeezed my hand gently. If he didn’t believe me, he understood that he should let it go anyway.
We lay cuddled on my bed for a while, not speaking, as I wondered if I would ever be able to rebuild the walls around my heart. Somehow, Chris had managed to destroy four years’ worth of defenses in two days and I didn’t know how I would ever be able to go back to the solitary existence I had before. The thought of busy days and long lonely nights no longer seemed desirable.
Chapter Eleven
O f course, Chris spent the night and I enjoyed every minute of it. Not just the naked fun that involved inserting Tab A into Slot B, but also him spooning me or holding me close with my head resting on his chest. He woke me at 5 a.m. and made love to me. That was the only way to describe it. There was no rush to climax, but tenderness, gentle touches, and kisses that made my heart ache before a long, luxurious orgasm made my toes curl.
Then he got up, dressed, and left after saying he would see me later at work. I laid there in bed, staring up at my ceiling, wondering what in the hell I would do now. Despite my best intentions, the harmless fling I planned to have with Chris had become something much deeper and dangerous to the health of my heart.
I gave up pretending to sleep at six-thirty, crawled out of bed, and made myself a cup of coffee. I showered, dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks. I left my hair down and applied light make-up.
When I entered the office at ten to eight, Chris was seated at his desk. He smiled slightly at me, but didn’t say or do anything differently than he did on a typical day. I didn’t know why, but that annoyed me. After such a fantastic night together, how could he seem so unaffected?
I tried not to let my grumpiness show as I brewed the coffee and carried a cup into Chris’ office. His facade slipped when I placed the mug on his desk. He took my hand before I could withdraw and pressed a small kiss to my palm. My knees shook slightly when his lips touched my skin and his light blue eyes met mine, warm and genuine.
“Thank you,” he murmured as he released my wrist and reached for his coffee. “You look very pretty today.”
“Thank you.”
Unsure of what else to do or say, I chose to escape back to my office. I looked at his schedule for the day and realized I had forgotten that today he was interviewing applicants to replace me. Immediately, my mood improved. While the idea of not seeing Chris every day made my chest feel tight, the interview process should prove to be entertaining. Since he had a reputation in the business world for being a tough negotiator and an employer with almost impossibly high expectations, it was interesting to see the people who applied. I was highly amused by the calamity that ensued last year when Chris hired our receptionist.
Usually it was fresh-faced college graduates who thought they would get on the fast-track to advancement if they could handle Barden the Beast. They typically left in tears. Then, there were those who figured he was desperate enough to take what he could get. Chris usually sent them packing within the first five minutes of the interview. Finally,
I heard water run and shut off then the soft sound of his footsteps as he padded back into the bedroom. I tried not to recoil as he curled around me from behind, sliding his hand over my ribcage to lace his fingers with mine in front of my abdomen. I didn’t do a very good job because he squeezed me slightly.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked quietly.
He’d asked me the same thing yesterday. “No,” I answered, my voice just as soft.
“Then why did you flinch when I touched you?”
I closed my eyes tightly. The answer to that question was complicated and more than I wanted to share.
So, I lied. Again. “I’m ticklish and you ran your hand along my ribs.”
He squeezed my hand gently. If he didn’t believe me, he understood that he should let it go anyway.
We lay cuddled on my bed for a while, not speaking, as I wondered if I would ever be able to rebuild the walls around my heart. Somehow, Chris had managed to destroy four years’ worth of defenses in two days and I didn’t know how I would ever be able to go back to the solitary existence I had before. The thought of busy days and long lonely nights no longer seemed desirable.
Chapter Eleven
O f course, Chris spent the night and I enjoyed every minute of it. Not just the naked fun that involved inserting Tab A into Slot B, but also him spooning me or holding me close with my head resting on his chest. He woke me at 5 a.m. and made love to me. That was the only way to describe it. There was no rush to climax, but tenderness, gentle touches, and kisses that made my heart ache before a long, luxurious orgasm made my toes curl.
Then he got up, dressed, and left after saying he would see me later at work. I laid there in bed, staring up at my ceiling, wondering what in the hell I would do now. Despite my best intentions, the harmless fling I planned to have with Chris had become something much deeper and dangerous to the health of my heart.
I gave up pretending to sleep at six-thirty, crawled out of bed, and made myself a cup of coffee. I showered, dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks. I left my hair down and applied light make-up.
When I entered the office at ten to eight, Chris was seated at his desk. He smiled slightly at me, but didn’t say or do anything differently than he did on a typical day. I didn’t know why, but that annoyed me. After such a fantastic night together, how could he seem so unaffected?
I tried not to let my grumpiness show as I brewed the coffee and carried a cup into Chris’ office. His facade slipped when I placed the mug on his desk. He took my hand before I could withdraw and pressed a small kiss to my palm. My knees shook slightly when his lips touched my skin and his light blue eyes met mine, warm and genuine.
“Thank you,” he murmured as he released my wrist and reached for his coffee. “You look very pretty today.”
“Thank you.”
Unsure of what else to do or say, I chose to escape back to my office. I looked at his schedule for the day and realized I had forgotten that today he was interviewing applicants to replace me. Immediately, my mood improved. While the idea of not seeing Chris every day made my chest feel tight, the interview process should prove to be entertaining. Since he had a reputation in the business world for being a tough negotiator and an employer with almost impossibly high expectations, it was interesting to see the people who applied. I was highly amused by the calamity that ensued last year when Chris hired our receptionist.
Usually it was fresh-faced college graduates who thought they would get on the fast-track to advancement if they could handle Barden the Beast. They typically left in tears. Then, there were those who figured he was desperate enough to take what he could get. Chris usually sent them packing within the first five minutes of the interview. Finally,
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