Page 19 of The Boss

“Fine,” she sighed. “Hurry up with that steak and let’s go home.”

* * *

When we got back to my place, I wasted no time. The door had barely shut behind us before I was shrugging off my suit jacket, tugging at the buttons of my shirt. My shoes hit the floor as I unbuckled my belt, steering Chantelle toward the master bedroom, our mouths locked in a kiss that was more instinct than passion.

She laughed against my lips, fingers skating down my chest. “Someone’s eager tonight.”

“Can you blame me?” I murmured, pressing my mouth to her throat.

She kissed me back, slow and deep, but when my hands drifted lower, she pulled back slightly. “Let’s take our time,” she said.

Patience had never been my strong suit, but I nodded, letting her set the pace.

Between lingering kisses, our clothes disappeared, and soon we were tangled in bed, the city lights casting faint, shifting patterns on the walls. She didn’t blow me—she only did it on special occasions—and I didn’t press her. Instead, I let my hands roam, tried to lose myself in her body, but the moment I closed my eyes, Chris’s voice slipped through the cracks.

“I’d go down on you in a second.”

My throat went dry. I pushed the thought away, forced myself to focus—on Chantelle’s warmth beneath me, the soft rise and fall of her breasts, perky in my hands. I trailed kisses down her stomach, working to re-anchor myself in the moment. But when I settled between her thighs, she tensed.

“You don’t have to,” she murmured, caressing my beard. “Come here.”

She pulled me up, guiding me into position, and I let it go. It wasn’t the first time she’d turned me down. Chantelle liked sex, but she didn’tneedit the way I did. And I didneedit—desperately. I took what she was offering, gripping her hips, driving into her with a single-minded focus. But then, unbidden—

“Bet I’d suck you so good you’d forget your own name.”

I clenched my jaw, burying my face in Chantelle’s shoulder. What the fuck was wrong with me? I moved harder, faster, trying to shake the thought loose. She had to tell me to slow down, my thrusts hurting her, and I tried to go easier when all my instinctsscreamed to go rougher. When my release hit, it felt hollow. Mechanical.

Afterward, I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, trying to steady my breathing. Chantelle stretched beside me, letting out a sigh.

“Isaac,” she murmured. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I tensed. “What do you mean?”

She turned onto her side, propping her head on her hand, her gaze unwavering. “I know you, Isaac. You get… restless. And when you do, you get moody like this.”

Restless. That wasn’t the word for it. Restless was needing to burn off energy in the gym, pushing myself too hard in sparring, fucking Chantelle hard enough to make the headboard slam against the wall. Restless wasn’t…this.This slow, insidious itch under my skin.

She hesitated, then exhaled, like she was weighing her words before speaking. “I was thinking… maybe we should keep things open. Until the wedding.”

I stilled. She said it so casually, like she was offering me an extra side with my meal.No big deal. Just an option.“Open,” I repeated, just to be sure I heard her right.

She shrugged one shoulder. “We’re both busy. And honestly? You’ve always been the one with the higher sex drive. We’ve known that since the beginning. I don’t have the time or the energy to keep up. Especially now.” She smiled, a small, wry thing. “If you need an outlet, I don’t mind. As long as it doesn’t mean anything.”

I stared at her, my mind scrambling to process it. She was serious. She wasgiving me permissionto fuck someone else. And for the first time in my life, my brain didn’t immediately conjure up another woman.

I swallowed hard. “That’s… a hell of a thing to bring up after sex.”

She laughed softly, brushing a kiss over my fuzzy jaw. “It’s pragmatic.”

I breathed out, rolling the thought over in my head. The idea should have been appealing. Should have been asolution.A way to burn off the tension without thinking too hard aboutwhyI was tense in the first place.

And yet.

“You’re not seeing anyone else?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

She shook her head. “God, no. With the hours I work, I can barely manage one, let alone two lovers. Besides, sex has never been that important to me.”

Ididknow that. Had known it from the start. Sure, it had nagged at me sometimes, but I’d convinced myself I could live with it. No woman I’d ever been with could match my libido. But then last night happened. And after so long, the way someone hadwantedme—the hunger in their voice, the unabashedfilthof their desire—had cracked something open inside me. Something I couldn’t seem to shut.

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