Beautiful Bitch(2)

Which led back to one of my favorite memories of Chloe and me: the morning after her presentation. Due to the heat and tension that came with actually admitting we were no longer hate-f*cking but actually interested in something more, we had had one of our biggest arguments ever. I hadn’t seen her in months, so I showed up at her presentation for the scholarship board to watch her nail it. And she did.

Afterward, though, despite everything we’d said upstairs in the boardroom, there was still so much more to say. The reality of our reunion   still felt so new, and I hadn’t been sure where we stood.



Once we were on the sidewalk, I stared down at her: at her eyes, and lips, and her neck, which was still a little red from the biting kisses I’d placed there only minutes before. The way she reached up and rubbed her finger over what appeared to be a small hickey pushed an electric reminder from my brain to my cock: this reunion   is nice but it’s time to get her home and f*ck her into the mattress.

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?”