Page 56 of Promise Me Forever

I grind my teeth together so hard my jaw aches, and then I shove my hands into the pockets of my suit pants so I don’t wrap them around her slender neck. At least not yet. She obviously needs to talk some shit through first. “I’m not here to apologize for ruining your date, because you shouldn’t have been on a fucking date in the first place.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “And it seemed to me like you were enjoying your time with me in the stairwell a hell of a lot more than your dinner with that prick from accounting.”

“His name is Jacob.”

“His name will be Jacob from the Chicago office if you so much as smile at him again, Amelia.”

She steps forward and raises up onto her tiptoes, her hands screwed up into little fists. “Are you listening to yourself? Can you actually hear this horseshit coming out of your mouth? Why shouldn’t I have been on a date, Drake? Why?”

I’d like to tell her, but I barely understand it myself. I’ve been working off instinct all damn night, and all I manage is a frustrated growl.

“Why?” she yells, her face so close to mine that I could dip my head and kiss her.

I move without thinking, and in a flash, my hand is on her throat and she’s pressed up against the wall of her apartment. Her pulse flutters beneath my palm, her nipples spiking through her thin pajama top.

“Because you’remine, Amelia. Don’t you understand that yet? You don’t get to drive me crazy every second of every fucking day and then go on a date with some jackass who works for me. In fact, you don’t get to go on a date with anyone. Ever.” Where the fuck did that come from? What has this woman done to me?

“You’re insane,” she whispers, but her pupils are blown wide, her hazel eyes the color of a forest at midnight. Her pink tongue darts out to moisten her lips, and I swear I feel the action as though she’s swiping it over the head of my cock. Hot, pulsating need ripples down my spine.

I press my forehead against hers, drinking in the scent of her. “Yeah? Well maybe I am insane, because I am fucking obsessed with you. Believe me, Miss Ryder, I have tried very hard not to be. I can’t stop thinking about you for more than five seconds. Whenever you’re anywhere near me, all I can think about is how good you taste.” I release a low growl, and she shivers, those hard nipples grazing my chest. “All I can think about is how good your tight cunt feels when I sink my cock into you, like we were made to fit each other. Your smile is the only goddamn thing I see when I close my eyes. You are the air that I breathe. You are everything and everywhere, and I can’t go one more single fucking day without touching you.”

Her chest heaves as she sucks in a shaky breath. “We already agreed that we can’t do this. You’re my boss, Drake.”

My cock pulses, twitching against her belly. “Then I’ll fucking quit.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not even within the realm of possibility. I don’t want to be the secretary screwing her boss, and I definitely don’t want to lose my job. I’ve given up my career for a man before, and I’m not doing it again, not even for you.”

Not even for me? I tuck her hair behind her ear, my other hand still resting on her collarbone. I’m mesmerized by the rise and fall of her breathing, my fingers gently exploring the hollows and curves of her throat.

“Nobody has to know, and you won’t lose your job. We’ll figure it out.” My tone is desperate, pleading. I have no clue how we’re going to figure this out or how we can make it work, but right now it appears I’m only thinking with my dick. And my dick is only interested in one thing—being buried inside Amelia Ryder.

“Drake, no. It’s impossible, and not only because of work. I don’t want something casual, and you don’t do relationships.”

Fuck. I want to put my fist through the fucking wall. That used to be true. It’s how I’ve been since I was twenty-three years old. But with her, those feel like empty words I used to say. Words that became empty when I met her. “I don’t know about all that. I just know that I want to do you, Amelia.”

It sounds like something a high schooler would say, and she presses her lips together like she’s trying to suppress a giggle. She doesn’t quite succeed, and at least it does something to ease the tension that is filling the cramped entryway of her small apartment.

I wince. “Yeah, I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded.” Well, not completely anyway. I’d laugh too, but I’m too on edge to find any of this remotely funny.

She pulls her juicy bottom lip through her teeth, cocking her head up and looking into my eyes. “So youdon’twant to do me?” The words vibrate through my body, bypassing the logical part of my brain and traveling directly to my aching cock.

There’s no going back now. If I do this with her, then I’m really doing this. All in. “Oh, I want to do you every single way there is, Miss Ryder, and then I’m going to invent some new ones. But I want to do this whole thing with you. Whatever this is. Whatever it looks like. We can keep it a secret or tell the whole fucking world, but just let me have you.”

She blinks, and a tear rolls down her cheek. I’m pretty certain my heart actually stops beating while I wait for her response. I don’t know how the fuck I’ll go on if she turns me down. “You’ve already got me, Drake.”

I waste no time in sealing my mouth over hers, lifting her so she can wrap her legs around my waist. Rocking my hips, I chase a little relief by grinding my aching dick against her, but it’s not enough. I need so much more. Breaking our kiss, I groan my frustration. “I don’t have any condoms with me.”

Her eyes light up. “I have some. They’re in my dresser.”

I try not to let my completely irrational anger show on my face, but I guess I fail because she rolls her eyes. “Women are allowed condoms now, you know. It’s not 1950.”

I rub my nose along her jawline, and jealous heat coils in my chest. When the fuck did I become this guy? “I know that. But I hate the thought of you ever wanting to use them with anyone but me.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, her lips twitching with a smirk. Looks like my girl enjoys it when I’m possessive. “Well, I didn’t and I don’t. The girls bought them for me after my divorce, and the box is still sealed. Satisfied?”

“Not even a little. But I’m gonna be.” I find her bedroom on the other side of her tiny living area and kick the door open with my foot, not bothering to be gentle. Amelia’s legs tighten around my waist as I carry her to the bed, my lips never leaving hers. I set her down on the edge of the mattress and finally break our kiss.

“Where are they?” I ask, already yanking open the top drawer of her dresser.

“Second drawer,” she pants. Yeah. She wants this just as much as I do.

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