Boss I Love to Hate: An Office Romance(94)

I kissed her with unrelenting passion, and we fell into a delicious tempo of back and forth and push and pull. Every moan was mine. Every word of praise was mine. Every shiver and kiss was mine. I wanted all her pleasure, and in that moment, I knew that no one mattered before her, and there would be no one after her. With every push and pull of our bodies against each other, I knew I loved her, truly, madly, and completely.

A hot tide of passion raged through both of us, and I gave everything to her as she shivered in ecstasy, letting go and screaming my name. I sank deep inside her one last time, clutching her to me as I had my own release.

Moments passed.

There was no itch to leave, no urge to get up and run like there had been in the past with other women, just an overwhelming need to hold on to her tighter and never let go.

When my heart rate slowed, I opened my eyes and brushed my nose against hers. I kissed her soft and sweet. “I love you.” It needed to be said. “So much.”

She took one savoring breath and brushed her thumb against my lips.

She didn’t respond, so I kissed her again. If she wasn’t ready, I’d wait. I’d wait forever for her to feel the same.

I flipped her over, so she was lying on my chest, and we were both breathless and content. I was on the craziest high.

I tightly wrapped both arms around her, and I knew I’d fight differently this time, for her, for us. I had lived my life fighting to win—in games, in arguments, in takeovers with other companies. I’d never fought with something to lose, and holding her in my arms, I knew life would be different. You fought differently when you had something to lose; you fought with every fiber of your being and until your very last breath. I’d fight for her happiness, her joy, her feelings for me.

When the shine of the moon highlighted the curve of her shoulders, it only confirmed that I was truly in love, just how she’d once described it.

“Have you ever been in love? So deeply in love that you want to be with them all the time and the sun rises and sets on their face and they’re the last person you want to see at the end of your day?”

Now, I knew what she’d meant weeks ago because I wanted the sun to rise on her face, to see the morning glow on her every feature.

I gently kissed her at her temple because I wanted to live in this moment, have her in my bed, in my life, and for her to be the last person I saw every single night.

“I love you,” I whispered again, now knowing what it felt like and hoping to God I’d never lose it.





Chapter 23





Brad





“Girls,” Becky yelled, walking back into the kitchen. “Get down here, please. You’re going to be late.”

“They’re dragging this morning.” Charles kissed his wife and continued to make Sarah and Mary’s lunches on the kitchen island.

Becky flipped the pancakes on the stove onto the plate already full of eggs and bacon. It was interesting, watching how they moved in domestic completeness, Charles with his sandwich-making skills and Becky with her perfection of the pancake.

Becky was a cook, just like my mother. It was nice, having them home, and I was enjoying being back at home. I’d been spending most of my nights at the condo with Sonia because the things I did to her could not be done in the vicinity of my nieces, my brothers, or sister-in-law.

Truth be told, Sonia was a screamer. There was no doubt, my neighbors heard us multiple times a night. I could tell by the knowing looks in their eyes, the blush in Maria’s cheeks when she passed me on the street. They couldn’t exactly say anything to me when I owned the whole building.

I flipped through The Wall Street Journal, sipping my black coffee. Mason was sitting at the kitchen table, opposite me, reading the same paper, only his coffee was a creamy light brown, full of sugar and milk and more like a dessert. I called it his girlie drink.

My parents had always wanted a girl. They’d prayed, gone to church, promised God things that they couldn’t possibly deliver. After Charles and I were born, I had known they were hoping for less testosterone, and they’d gotten it in the form of Mason.

The way he combed his hair, pressed every article of clothing, even his undershirts, and his choice of a margarita over hard liquor or beer proved he was the answer to their prayers. I chuckled, just thinking about it.

My favorite laughter and footsteps echoed from the other room. Sweet Mary was coming. On cue, the table was set—eggs, bacon, and pancakes on every plate—and the lunches were made.

We all sat down together, as a family, which had become our weekly routine. Not every day, not every breakfast or dinner, but at least three to four times a week.

This was what I had missed over the last few weeks when I was spending my time with Sonia. I only realized I’d missed it now that I was here because I’d been consumed by everything that was Sonia, my girlfriend. I was almost tempted to ask her to move in, into this house, so I could have the best of both worlds. But I had guessed it would have come to this eventually, me moving out.

I’d always thought that Mason would be the first to go, marry the gold digger and move out. Who knew what their relationship status was now? I guessed it surprised me that I would move out before him.

“Uncle Brad …” Mary pouted, swirling her pancake in a pool-sized puddle of syrup. “You haven’t been home to tell me the story of the prince and his crown jewels.”