The Bluff (Graham Brothers, #2)(105)

“This,” he says, and then his mouth covers mine.

James kisses me like a man who knows exactly what he wants, like a man not afraid to declare it. The way his hand curls around the back of my neck, holding me in place, is possessive, but in a way that makes me feel free.

Free to let go.

Free to trust.

Free to love.

Val wasn’t wrong, and neither was James. I DO love him. The realization hits me square in the chest. It’s not a scary thought, but rather one that seems inevitable, unavoidable, impossibly perfect.

My hands slide up James’s broad shoulders, loving the way his muscles move and flex at my touch. His lips are demanding, but no more than mine. The man made me wait agonizing days for this, and I’m fueled by pent-up desire and an urge to punish him.

Though the kiss is nothing like punishment. James rumbles out a groan, proving my point. I let my hands roam up his neck, dragging my fingers through the hair that’s always falling over his eyes. James deepens the kiss, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me flush with his body.

And then, James changes pace from frenzied passion to languid delight. He nips and teases and trails kisses from my lips to my jaw, then back again. His mouth is masterful, just as amazing when slow and soft as it was wild and unrestrained.

When he pulls back, resting his forehead on mine, his breath is ragged, matching my own. I close my eyes and rest in the feel of his body, so huge and yet so perfectly matched to mine. James pulls back to meet my eyes. When he cups my cheek in his big, warm hand, I nuzzle into it, craving the connection I’ve been starving for.

“I need to ask you something, Winnie,” he says, and my heart does a little stutter at his seriousness.

“Well, you’ve certainly put me in a mood to say yes.”

“I hope so.” His smile lasts only a moment, shifting right back to serious. “I’d like you to call me boss again.”

I can’t help but grin. “Easy. I always loved calling you boss, boss.” I let myself indulge in running my fingertips lightly over the stubble on his jaw. I love the gentle tug of it on my skin. The roughness that’s so very James.

He steals a quick kiss, then seems to think better of it and lingers for a longer one. The corner of his mouth lifts as he pulls back. “I love it as a nickname. But I meant in more of an official capacity.”

A laugh escapes me. “I don’t want to be your temp, James. And I think we saw how that worked out. I don’t want work to come between us.”

Even if I loved working alongside him. This week, while I’ve been missing James, I’ve also been missing the work I was doing for Dark Horse. I’m right back to not knowing what I want to do next with my life, especially now that I’ve sold Neighborly.

James crowds me, running his nose over my cheek, and I barely hold back from diving right into another kiss. “I don’t want anything about you to be temporary, Winnie.”

His voice makes a shudder pass through me. “Still. I’d rather have this”—I press a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth—“than that.”

“I think we could have both. I’m not saying I’m suddenly perfect at this, but I’m learning to give up control and to trust other people.”

“So, maybe you’ll rethink that rainbow unicorn site design?”

His fingers find my ribs, tickling, and I squirm, unable to escape when his other hand wraps around me.

“No unicorns. No rainbows.”

“Okay! Okay! Uncle! No unicorns!” I take a breath as he stops the tickle assault. “What would this look like?”

“I haven’t thought much more past wanting to get you to forgive me and come back to work with me.”

“Don’t you mean for you?”

His eyes catch mine. Then he slowly shakes his head. “No. Definitely with me. You’re too brilliant and too valuable not to have more say.”

I’m about to ask more, when something touches my leg. I almost jump, but then there’s a plaintive meow. I’d forgotten all about the orange cat. THE cat. At some point during our make-out session, James must have dropped the leash. Glad he’s got his priorities straight.

“I think someone’s a little jealous,” I say. “Sorry, OC. Priorities.”

The cat sneezes, and I laugh, then reach down, holding out my hand. James watches as the OC sniffs me, then sniffs me again. I’m about to stroke the top of his head when he hisses and swats at me. I jerk my hand out of claw range and straighten, glaring at James, then the cat.

“Hey! I thought you said you tamed him for me! He still hates me.”

James’s grin is smug. “I put in the time. I guess you’ll need to do the same thing to earn his affection.”

I step up on my toes, pressing a soft kiss to the smug mouth I love so much. “As long as I’ve got yours, that’s all that matters.”





EPILOGUE





James



My nerves are like tiny gnats, buzzing through my bloodstream. Which is a truly disgusting analogy, and something that would totally make for a great sci-fi movie, but should be banned from my brain forever.

“Are you all good, son?” Tank appears beside me and squeezes my shoulder. It feels like it’s part warning, part encouragement, like he doesn’t know which I need more.