One Bossy Offer (88)

And when she comes for him again, will I be ready?

Will he?

If there’s going to be an us, will we face down whatever she throws at us?

I want to believe it so badly.

Just like I want to be the reason Miles Cromwell always smiles.





18





No Setting Sun (Miles)





The sunlight splashes over us in Jenn’s room, making it all too easy to believe the world is at ease.

We keep doing this, alternating between her place and mine. I never imagined how much good a simple change of scenery could do me until now.

The view beyond the glass door to her balcony is so frigging beautiful it turns me inside out.

The sun just started to hang low in the sky, and the light bounds off the ocean, casting silver shards everywhere.

“You know, I’m torn. It’s hard to decide if I should keep this for my room or use it as a luxury suite. The rental income would be amazing.” She places a decorative pillow on the settee we’ve just brought up to the master suite.

“Speaking of income, have you given any thought to renewing your contract? I can’t let my creatives get lazy again with the cutting-edge platforms. You’re too good at keeping them in shape,” I say.

She beams me a weary smile.

“Maybe later on after the inn reopens. But it can’t be as intense as last time.”

“When it comes to you, kitten, there’s nothing too intense.” I sweep her into my arms, inhaling her lemon sweetness.

She giggles. “Seriously, I need time for this place. We’re just a few months away from the big relaunch.”

“I’ll make sure of it. You can work remotely for the most part, though I might require office visits every now and then, especially when I’m stuck in Seattle this fall for the year-end push.”

“I’m okay with reporting to my more-than-boss.”

“You’d better be,” I whisper.

She closes the space between us, stretching up on her toes. “Do you like it more against the wall or on your desk?”

Damn. She knows how to drive me crazy.

“Right now, I’d enjoy it most in your bed,” I whisper, catching her bottom lip with my teeth.

My hand cups her ass and squeezes.

She turns cherry-red, but she still tries like hell to pretend she’s not flustered.

Little minx.

I pinch her peach of an ass harder.

She grins and bites her lip. “Maybe later.”

I drop my arms around her waist and pull her closer. “Your desk this time. It’s only fair we defile it after we’ve done it to mine.”

“How about your bed when we’re finished here?” she whispers.

“That means waiting and I’m not a patient man today. That’s your fault, Jenn.”

She exhales slowly and sweetly.

“That’s what I like about you most,” I whisper. “Keep this room for yourself. You deserve a sanctuary. The cottage could be revamped as a higher-end luxury suite, perfect for honeymooners.” I point at the wall beside her bedroom door. “Don’t put anything there, either. That’s my wall.”

She blinks at me. “Why do you need a wall in my room?”

“If you won’t let me take you on the desk or your bed, that’s where I’ll fuck your soul out.” I push every scalding word against her lips, loving how she shudders.

She slides her fingers inside the waist of my trousers. “If you keep teasing me, you won’t sleep at all tonight.”

I cup her face, tilt her head back, and kiss her deeply.

“Promise me you’ll make good on that threat.”

She licks my bottom lip, all the invitation I need to drag my tongue against hers.

With a soft whimper, her leg curls around mine and I lift her up, carrying her over to the bed without resistance.

“It’s later now,” I say.

She nods slowly, worn down by the lust spell I’ve worked on her with every seething kiss.

And not a second too soon.

I’m fucking bristling to be inside her, to mark her again from the inside out.

I lean in and my lips storm hers, fierce brushstrokes, painting her with the intensity of my desire.

I trail down her neck to the top of her low neckline and stop, sliding a finger between the satin of her shirt, feeling her delicate skin.

As I unzip her blouse, I’m hit with how marvelous this is.

No matter how many times I strip her naked, unwrapping Jennifer Landers will always feel like Christmas morning.

She leans up, too, working at the first couple buttons on my shirt.

One more kiss.

One more moan.

One more minute closer to the hard, sating rhythm we need.

Then she yanks my shirt off before she’s finished freeing me, sending a few other buttons flying. She goes for my jeans and when they don’t fall fast enough, she shoves them down.

I’m laughing darkly as she slides my boxers down next, curling her hand around my length the instant I’m free.

I let out a breath that’s searing my lungs, grab her wrist, and move it away.

“You don’t like it?” Her voice is so timid there’s nothing to do but kiss her.

“You’re interfering with my plans.”