The Hookup Handbook(41)

“I would agree, she’s been great.”

“And you know, sweetie,” she says, tipping her head to the side and raising her eyebrows, “of course I’m proud of you and everything you’ve worked so hard to build, but you and I both know you can’t go on doing this escorting thing forever.”

Damn it if my mom doesn’t always see right through me. Of course, she can tell that there’s more to my relationship with Sienna than just work. Seeing as my mom is the woman I’ve been the closest to for my entire life, you’d think I’d be a little less surprised when she can tell exactly what I’m feeling—sometimes before even I can.

“I know, Mom. Trust me, I know.”

She gives me a knowing smile and reaches across the table, wrapping her fingers around mine. “I just want you to be happy, Case. And I think it’s time you let yourself be happy too.”

Her words strike me right in the chest, and a heavy weight stays lodged there all during lunch.

By the time I get back to the office, Sienna has already left for the day, her desk depressingly empty.

Fuck. It figures that the one time I have something urgent to talk to her about is the same time she decides to take me up on the suggestion to slip out early on a Friday if the book is on track.

Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I open a new text message, start typing, and then stop.

Am I really doing this?

Sure, it wasn’t exactly appropriate when we said it was a one-time thing, but it was her idea, which made me feel like I wasn’t overstepping the boundaries of our work relationship. But now? Now it’s me asking to do it again, and part of me worries that I’m taking things too far.

But then I remember how much things have changed already. How when we first met, I was so ready to dismiss her, to brush her off like an unqualified child. And she proved me wrong over and over, not just with her work ethic and her intelligence, but with her whip-smart mouth that constantly puts me in my place. She’s proven to be more mature than I thought she would be, and more capable, able to take everything I throw at her in stride.

The more time I spend with Sienna, the more I want her. The chemical connection we have is far beyond a boss-employee relationship, even beyond the issue of her being my friend’s sister. I don’t know exactly what it is, and honestly, I’m too scared to think too hard about it, but I know one thing for sure.

I want you.

I hit SEND and set my phone on my desk, trying to stay busy as my mind keeps spinning with the realization. Within moments, the phone buzzes. I immediately pick it up, my heart drumming as I open the text.

Tonight?

After quickly checking the schedule to make sure Ryder won’t be around, I shoot off a reply, every fiber in my being aching to see her.

Be here at 8.

? ? ?

A few hours later, Sienna is sitting across from me at my dining room table, trying her best to keep red wine from shooting out of her nose.

“You’re fucking with me.” She snorts, holding her hand over her mouth, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

“Dead serious.”

“How did I not know you wore a Superman costume every single day for two years of your life?”

“Probably because that’s something I shouldn’t have told you,” I say, squinting at her over the rim of my glass. “But there’s just something about you that makes me want to tell the truth.”

Sienna pauses, a soft smile spreading across her face. She sets her elbows on the table and leans forward, motioning for me to lean in. Our lips meet softly in a sweet kiss. She tastes like wine. I want to deepen our connection, but Sienna pulls back, still smiling at me.

“Your mom has to have pictures of that somewhere,” she whispers, shaking her head, her eyes bright and mischievous.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Who’s to say I haven’t already texted her? You took forever to finish the risotto.”

“I think what you’re trying to say is, ‘Thank you, Case, for being so kind as to labor over this delicious meal for me.’”

She smiles, climbing into my lap and wrapping her arms around my neck, and brings her mouth close to mine. The warmth of her in my arms makes my blood run hotter.

“Thank you, Case,” she says, pressing her lips to mine, “for everything.” As her lips touch mine and her fingers move through my hair, a hungry ache forms deep in my gut.

“Keep that up, and I’ll be ready for dessert soon.” I growl, swinging her leg over my lap and grabbing two handfuls of her behind. She giggles, arching her back so her breasts press into me.

“Did you make dessert?” she asks coyly, cocking her head to the side.

Such a goddamned tease.

Pulling her blond curls to one side of her neck, I descend on her delicate skin, nipping and sucking until she begins to whimper and grind against me.

From the first time we kissed, my need for her has only grown, and suddenly, I have no idea how I made it through the week without touching her. I want to kiss every inch of her, breathe in her feminine, floral scent. And do whatever it takes so she keeps making those noises—every moan, every whimper only makes me want to please her more.

Suddenly, she pulls back, her wild eyes taking a moment to focus on my face.

“What is it?” I ask, my mind hazy and reluctant to pull out of the moment.