Page 82 of Unleashed

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “The pleasure was all mine.”

I woke to the fading light of sunset, disoriented by the stillness around me. The bed was empty beside me, and Michael’s absence tugged at my gut. I called out, “Michael?”

No answer.

I strainedto listen and heard his voice somewhere deeper in the apartment, talking on the phone. My eyes darted to the clock on the nightstand, and panic surged through me. 8:30 p.m. I was more than two hours late for dinner with Slade.

“Shit.” I scrambled out of bed, grabbing Michael’s dress shirt from the floor and slipping it on. His scent—clean soap, musk, and something undeniably him—clung to the fabric. I rushed through the apartment, barefoot and anxious, passing byhis open office door. He was sitting in his chair, bare-chested, smiling at me as if he hadn't a care in the world.

But I didn’t stop. My mind was laser-focused on my phone, which I found on the kitchen counter, buzzing with missed texts from Slade. The messages started off casually, but quickly morphed into worry and then hostility. He had every right to be pissed.

I fired off a quick text.

Caught up in a strategy session at work. Didn’t realize the time.

Slade’s response was immediate.

When are you coming home?

I froze,not knowing how to answer him. The lie had already slipped out, and now I was entangled in it.

“Problems?” Michael’s voice came from behind, low and curious.

I turned and found him standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but powder blue boxers that hung low on his hips, his eyes locked on me.

“My dinner companion is not thrilled that I ghosted him,” I admitted.

Michael crossed the room with unhurried confidence. “You can blame me,” he said softly. “You were tired. I wanted you to rest.”

“When did you get up?” I asked, my voice betraying a slight tremor.

He smiled. “About an hour ago. But you were too tempting to disturb.” He cocked his head, studying me. “So… are you staying?”

I sighed, feeling the weight of the question. “I can’t. I’ve got no clothes for tomorrow, and showing up to work in the same outfit? That’s a sure sign of the walk of shame.”

Michael leaned against the counter, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “Who were you on the phone with?”

“My father. About your suggestion.”

I blinked. “What suggestion?”

“A private office. For all the executives. We’re thinking glass walls that can turn opaque with the flip of a switch.” His eyes gleamed with mischief. “You know, for privacy.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And why exactly do you need that kind of privacy? You’ve done just fine without it.”

Michael’s gaze darkened as he took a step closer, trapping me between him and the counter. His hands were suddenly on my shirt, deftly popping a button so his fingers could slip inside, cupping my breast. The heat of his palm sent sparks down my spine.

“You,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “I need it for you.”

A thrill shot through me as I tilted my head up to meet his eyes. “So you can fuck me in the middle of the day? Sneak your tongue between my legs while everyone else is oblivious?”

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against my ear. “Do you want everyone to know what we’re doing? Because I don’t mind. I’m ready to be exclusive.”

“Are we exclusive?” I challenged, my heart thudding in my chest.

Michael’s expression softened. “I don’t plan on being with anyone else,” he said, his voice sincere. “There’s no one else I want.”

“Plans?” I teased. “That’s not exactly a resounding endorsement.”

---