Page 59 of Sinful Beauty

His lips pressed to mine, effectively hushing me. It’s a quick kiss, but his hands claim my hips.

“Hi,” I say, resting my arms against his chest, stunned by his sudden appearance. “Good day?”

“Now that you’re here.”

The look on his face is one I recognize. It’s one that says he has indeed missed me. The hungry gaze I’ve grown to recognize lights my skin. His hair is unkempt, like he’s been running his fingers through it repeatedly. He lowers his lips to my neck, and his hands lower from my hips to my bottom, pulling me up against him.

My belly rumbles and he must hear, because he pulls away, amusement playing in his cool gray eyes. “Did you forget to eat lunch today?”

I push up on my toes and press a kiss to his cheek. The stubble pricks at my lips and he lifts me off the floor, walking me backwards to the counter.

“Let’s get you fed.” He sets me down and asks, “Why do you do that? Forget to eat? Does Peltz expect it?”

“No. Not at all.”

I suppose it’s possible I’ve become spoiled by Tristan. Each day he returns from lunch, he discreetly drops off something for me. Today I missed my food delivery.

As Tristan pulls food from the refrigerator, I check the mobile to see if Kehlani left a message. She didn’t. I switch over to What’s App, just to be sure.

“I like this outfit you’re wearing.” His palm soothes my thigh with familiar ease. “Another Zara find?”

I’m wearing a short black skirt with black tights and a sweater with a short faux pearl choker.

“I’m guessing it’s the hem line you like?” His fingers trail the hem of my skirt and up my inner thigh.

“I was beginning to think you only owned pants and long skirts and dresses.”

I rarely wear skirts above the knee, mainly because I’m quite conscious of the length of my skirts at work. In meetings, I don’t want to give the colleague beside me an eyeful of thigh, and I never know which meetings Peltz might drag me into as his preferred note taker. But this skirt isn’t too short.

There’s no text from Kehlani, but it’s noteworthy she called. Messaging is our go to. I tap out a quick response to her.

Me: Sorry I missed your call. All ok?

Tristan nuzzles my neck, and I add…

Me: Can I call you tomorrow?

“What’s the ringtone of yours?”

“It’s Kehlani’s ring tone.” I drop the phone back into my bag. “We both use the ring tone for each other.”

“Cute.” He squeezes my ass one last time and steps away. “Do you have a ring tone for me?”

“Absolutely. It’s called Lover Boy.”

He grins, but I think it’s more in response to the teasing grin plastered on my face than to my jest.

“Would you like to assign a ring tone for yourself on my phone?”

“No, you do it. What would it be?”

I glance up from unloading the tote bag to find Tristan’s gaze locked on me, thoughtful. A chill slices through me, but I’m not sure why.

He blinks, breaking free of whatever captured his thoughts, and steps away, striding to a cabinet. He pulls out a wooden tray and sets it on the island.

It’s late, and I’ve gathered that Tristan has a thing for charcuterie, so I picked up a variety of items for us to pick at for dinner. Sliced meats, cheeses, pickles, almonds, a loaf, peppered crackers, and three different varieties of honey.

“Is this all you brought?”

---