Page 89 of Unmatched

I raise my head.

“Anton, I—I decided to reconsider the deal with ABizCorp.” Her eyes are bright, filled with an emotion I can’t process.

I let her words sink in, drifting around my mind, trying to find a meaningful shape. She’s going to sell the Pooches? After everything she said back in Denver?

“Why would you do that?”

“Because it makes sense.” She sets her phone face down on the counter without even glancing at it. “You were right. I’ve been working too much. I haven’t been balancing things well.”

I stare at her, my throat tightening.

She lowers her voice. “After you left Denver, I?—”

“No.” I cut her off, realizing what she’s trying to do. “You made your choice. I’m not going to watch you sell what you’ve worked for, what you love most, just for...”

I can’t look at her and finish the sentence, so I turn toward the bedroom to get my running shoes, wishing she’d gone to a hotel after all.

“I’m not selling,” she says quietly. “ABizCorp, LLC belongs to Henry Hill. We’re forming a partnership. Dividing the workload. Creating balance.”

My feet slow. Her footsteps follow behind me.

“I want you, Anton,” she says, the choice of words hitting me in the chest. “And after I saw your messages on Unmatched...I think you still want me too.”

I stop in the doorway to my childhood bedroom, my heart pounding.

“You said if you could do it over, you would.” She comes around in front of me, placing a hand on my arm. “Did you mean it?”

I raise my head, locking her eyes with mine, afraid I’ll find a placating gaze. The one she puts on when she’s giving in, resigning herself to let me have what I’m after. But something’s changed. Her eyes radiate a heat that sets my skin aflame.

“Of course I would.” The words rip out of me.

Her hand slides from my arm to my chest, and I close my eyes, her fingers scorching through my shirt.

“I don’t think I know my own body very well,” she whispers, so quietly I can barely hear. “I don’t think I ever have.”

Slowly, cautiously, I touch the tips of my fingers to her thigh, dragging them up over her hip until they dip along her waist under her T-shirt. Every part of her is already so familiar. “Would you like to?”

A soft rose pink blooms over her cheeks. “Yes...I think I would.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting to know some places better,” I say, my guard beginning to crumble as I nuzzle her hair.

Even in the dim light, I see her face grow a deeper pink.

I pause. “But only if you’re comfortable.”

She swallows, not looking up. “For a while, I wasn’t sure.” She traces my abdominal muscles lightly through my shirt. “It didn’t seem like being...with you...could ever feel good.”

My stomach knots. My hands go still. “Lydia, there are some people who?—”

“But when I got the rabbit,” she continues, fingers dipping beneath my shirt. “I started to think I was wrong.”

I suck in a breath. My brain immediately overloads with images of her exploring her own pleasure, sprawled across our bed, hot-pink vibrator slick between her legs. I am hard instantly.

I pull her against me, murmuring in her ear. “And how do you feel about it now?”

“Like I want to learn more,” she breathes.

Gently, I slide my hands beneath her shirt, caressing her skin until my fingers make contact with what feels like a lacy, delicate bra. A fiery pulse in my groin punctuates my own arousal, but quietly in the back of my mind, Jess and Izzy whisper: now bring her into the moment with you. I let my fingers explore, running my thumbs over her nipples until Lydia lets out a small gasp.

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