Beautiful Bitch (Beautiful Bastard, #1.5)(2)
I wasn’t sure we were on the same page about that, though.
Outside in the daylight, she looked like she was about to fall over. Of course she was. Knowing Chloe, she’d probably been preparing and fine-tuning her presentation for the last seventy-two hours straight, no sleep. But I hadn’t seen her in so long—could I keep it together long enough to just let her go home to rest? If she needed to nap, I could just hang out and wait for her to wake up, right? I could lie down near her, reassure myself that she was really here and we were really doing this and just . . . what? Touch her hair?
Holy shit. Had I always been this creepy?
Chloe hitched her computer bag up over her shoulder, and the movement pulled me out of my thoughts. But when I blinked back into focus, I saw that she was staring off into the distance, toward the river.
“You okay?” I asked, ducking to meet her eyes.
She nodded, startling a little as if she’d been caught. “I’m fine, just overwhelmed.”
“A little shell-shocked?”
Her exhausted smile pulled at something tender beneath my ribs, but the way she licked her lips before speaking tugged inside me a bit lower. “I was so sad thinking I wasn’t going to see you today. And this morning, I spent the entire walk between your building and here thinking how weird it was that I was going to be doing this without you, or Elliott, or anyone from Ryan Media. And then you came here, and of course you pissed me off, but you also made me laugh . . .” She tilted her head, studied my face. “The presentation was exactly what I wanted it to be, and then the job offers . . . and you. You told me you love me. You’re here.”
She reached out to press her palm flat to my chest. I knew she could feel my heart slamming against my sternum. “My adrenaline is slowing and now I’m just . . .” She moved her hand away from me and waved it in front of her before it seemed to deflate at her side. “I’m not sure how tonight is going to work.”
How tonight was going to work? I could tell her exactly how it would work. We’d talk until it was dark, and then f*ck until the sun came up. I reached for her, slipping my arm around her shoulder. Christ, she felt good.
“Let me worry about all of that. I’ll drive you home.”
This time she shook her head, pulling more fully back into the moment. “It’s okay if you have to go back to work, we can—”
Scowling, I growled, “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s almost four. I’m not going back to work. My car is here and you’re getting in it.”
Her smile turned sharp at the corners. “Bossy Bennett emerges. Now I’m definitely not going with you.”
“Chloe, I’m not kidding. I’m not letting you out of my sight until Christmas.”
She squinted up at the late afternoon June sun. “Christmas? That sounds a little gimp-in-the-basement for my tastes.”
“If you’re not into that, this relationship might not work after all,” I teased.
She laughed, but didn’t answer. Instead, those deep brown eyes stared up at me, unblinking and hard to read.
I felt so out of practice with this, and struggled to hide my frustration.
Placing my hands on her hips, I bent to press a small kiss to the center of her mouth. Fuck, I needed more. “Let’s go. No basements. Just us.”
“Bennett—”
I cut her off with another kiss, paradoxically relaxed by this tiny disagreement. “My car. Now.”
“You sure you don’t want to hear what I have to say?”
“Absolutely positive. You can talk all you want once I have my face firmly planted between your legs.”
Chloe nodded and followed when I took her hand and gently pulled her toward the parking deck, but she was smiling mysteriously all the while.
The entire drive to her place, she tickled her fingers up and down my thigh, leaned to lick my neck, slid her hand over my cock, and talked about the tiny red panties she put on this morning, needing that little confidence boost.
“Will it shatter your confidence if I tear them off?” I asked, leaning to kiss her at a red light. The car behind me honked just when it was getting good: when her lips were giving way to tiny bites and her sounds filled my mouth and my head and—f*ck—my entire chest. I needed to get her naked and beneath me.
In the elevator on the way up to her apartment, it was wild. She was here, holy f*ck she was here, and I’d missed her so much; if I had my way, this night was going to last for three days. She pushed her skirt up over her hips, and I lifted her, stepping between her legs and pressing my aching cock into her.
“Going to make you come so many times,” I promised.
“Mmm, promise?”
“Promise.”
I rocked my hips against her and she gasped, whispering, “Okay, but first—”
The elevator dinged and she wiggled herself free, slipping to the floor. With a hesitating look, Chloe smoothed her skirt back down, and walked ahead of me into the hallway and toward her apartment.
My stomach dropped.
I hadn’t been back here since we were apart and I’d conned her security guard into letting me up to talk to her. I’d ended up spending the entire time conversing with the outside of her door instead. I felt strangely anxious. I wanted to only feel relieved at our reunion , not think about everything we’d missed out on in our months apart. To distract myself, I bent low and sucked at the skin beneath her ear and began working on the zipper at the back of her skirt as she fumbled with her key.