Shipped(54)

“He was gaslighting you.”

“Yeah, I figured, which is why I broke up with him on the spot… or at least I tried to, but he said we couldn’t break up since we were never actually together. Because it was just sex.”

The vehemence in Graeme’s gaze makes me shiver, and I rub my arms. “Of course, word got out at the office that we were sleeping together. Guess whose reputation took a hit? Not his. Our boss never treated me the same after that. I was passed up for plum assignments and consistently talked over in staff meetings all while Sean’s star continued to rise. Six months later, he was promoted over me. He would have been my direct boss. That’s when I quit.

“Not that I was a perfect employee or didn’t make mistakes or that Sean wasn’t talented,” I babble. “It’s just… I knew I was never going to get a fair shake, not working for him and not at that company.”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it.” Turning to me, Graeme gathers up my hand, giving me plenty of time to pull away. When I don’t, he runs his thumb along the length of my palm. “I’m not Sean.”

“I mean, I don’t think you are, not anymore, but getting involved with you is still a risk. One I’m not sure I’m willing to take.”

“I respect you, Henley. You say you don’t want to do this? Okay. I’ll leave you alone. You say you want to give us a shot but keep it on the DL? I’m down. This is your decision, your choice. I would never do anything you don’t want to do, including reveal personal feelings at work if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Tears prickle my eyes and my throat burns with raw emotion. No one’s ever said anything like that to me before.

“If you’re game, I want to get to know you better, spend some time with you outside of work. Whether it’s in person or long distance, I don’t care. You’re the first person I’ve had feelings for in a long time, and I want to see where this thing goes.” He shrugs. “And for the record? Sean is a douchebag. If I ever meet him, I’m going to punch him in the nuts.”

I laugh weakly. “Not unless I do it first.”

Graeme’s lips twitch, but his eyes fill with uncertainty. “What about you? What do you want?” The vulnerability in his tone makes my chest ache with longing.

What do I want?

I want to work hard and earn respect. I want companionship. I want to pay off my student loans. I want to help Walsh find her footing in life. I want to be the boss someday. I want to be happy.

I want Graeme. I want it all.

Taking half a step closer, I run my tongue along my lower lip. The setting sun warms my neck and Graeme’s chest rises and falls as he studies me intently.

“I want… to try something,” I whisper.

The ground seems to retreat under my feet. Like I’m suddenly standing on the edge of a cliff peering down into a mist-shrouded unknown. My heart swells until it threatens to beat out of my chest.

Closing the distance between us, I tilt my chin up and rise onto my toes. I brush my lips against his. Bliss. Groaning, Graeme pulls me closer, his mouth moving against mine. Energy sizzles between us as effervescent as champagne.

His scent fills my nostrils and his body is firm and warm. His tongue dips into my mouth. He tastes sweet with a hint of tart, like huckleberry pie and a fine, crisp cider—like home. My nerve endings crackle like sparklers.

I know we should stop. There’s too much at risk. But I don’t want to. Thrill pumps through my veins and my breathing shallows.

I’m somersaulting off a high-dive. I’m chasing a shark.

Except for the pounding of the surf against the shore and my heart against my ribs, the empty beach is silent. Even the birds have quieted along with the murmur of guests through the trees behind us.

Graeme pulls back a fraction. Searching my face, he smooths his thumb roughly over my cheekbone. There’s no smug satisfaction in his expression—only open, honest wonder.

“Screw it,” I murmur, yanking him back down to me.

I meet every swirl of his tongue with a roll of my own. Give and take. Advance, retreat. I suck on his lower lip before nipping it with my teeth. He rumbles deep in his chest—part sigh, part growl, and the sound unleashes something between us. His lips move against mine with new urgency, his heart thundering under my palm. Heat blooms in my stomach and spreads like wildfire as his scent envelops me.

I want to savor him like a delicacy, like how you’d nibble truffles or caviar, but I can’t hold back.

I devour him like a 1 a.m. pizza.

Want him. Hate him? Need him.

“Henley,” he groans. With his hand clamped to my lower back, he rolls his hips and my eyes nearly roll back in my head. I twine my fingers through his silky hair and push onto my toes. It’s like I’ve tried the first bite of food at a banquet only to realize I’m ravenous. And by the way Graeme is kissing me, moving against me, he’s starving too.

There’s fire in my lungs and Pop Rocks in my soul. And I never want this to end.

“Xiavera… Hey, Xiavera! Wait up, I have a question!” Walsh’s voice cuts through the lust fogging my brain. Her shout is a clear warning—to me.

We burst apart like a seam ripping just as Xiavera appears from around a grove of trees, Walsh dogging her heels. Graeme retreats several steps down the beach. My heart stops completely before trilling in panic.