Page 71 of The Wrong Boss

It felt like we were admitting a deep, hidden truth: this—whatever this was between us—wasreal.

And in that moment, as pleasure flayed me and left me raw, I believed in that truth. I believed there was a future for us, thatthis connection had to mean something. We were destined to be together. We belonged with each other. We belongedtoeach other.

Why else would life have brought us crashing back into each other after so many years?

TWENTY-EIGHT

COLE

The scentof Carrie’s skin had been so deeply embedded in my psyche that at the first brush of my lips against her skin, I inhaled our past. I was transported to a time when I’d been jarred out of the stupor of chasing my next career move without thinking about what Ireallywanted.

Now, as her soft snores tickled my chest, I knew that what I really wanted was this. I wanted the kind of intimacy that made me forget about everything else. I wanted the certainty of knowing that there was nowhere else I’d rather be than right here, with this woman. She was peace and contentment. She made me feel like everything would be all right—like everythingwasall right.

A soft whimper made me look down at the curve of her cheek. Her hand slid across my stomach and curled around my waist, a soft, intimate touch that made me sink a little bit deeper into the bedding.

I was a man who lived my life according to the markets. I loved the thrill of a good trade. I loved landing a big client. I loved sinking into the analysis that would allow me to eke out a few extra percentage points of profit. It was a constant churn, a cycle that turned day after day after day.

But in this moment, I was still. All that mattered was the weight and warmth of Carrie’s body against mine. The soft rasp of the sheets beneath and over me. The smell of her hair.

“Are you awake?”

I let my hand trail up Carrie’s spine. “Yes.”

A soft groan was her reply. We hadn’t closed the curtains last night, so the early morning light streamed through the windows. Through the door, I heard the ding of the elevator.

The resort was waking, and the longer I stayed here, the more likely it was that someone would see me leaving.

I had to get up. I had to go back to my own room.

Unfortunately, my body seemed to be malfunctioning, because all I wanted to do was lie here, exactly as I was, with the woman I’d been pining over for the better part of a decade.

Carrie shifted, the hand on my waist coming up to rest under her chin as she propped herself up to look at me. “I’m supposed to meet with the caterers to go over the day’s menu”—her gaze shifted to the nightstand, and she squinted at the clock—“in an hour and a bit.”

“Plenty of time,” I noted, grinning.

Her eye roll was unconvincing, especially when her leg shifted slightly to press herself against me a tiny bit more.

Unable to resist any longer, I leaned down and caught her lips in mine. Kissing Carrie hadn’t gotten old. What had oftenfelt like a prelude to more exciting acts was now something I wanted to do for hours. I wanted to kiss her until she squirmed, until I knew she was on the edge and desperate for something more. I wanted to tease out every little whimper and moan and get to know all the flavors of her desire.

She was like a gift that had been presented to me that I now had the pleasure of unwrapping again and again and again.

I let my hands skim down her sides, shaping the curves of the ass I’d never forgotten. She shifted to straddle me, her hair falling like curtains on either side of her face. Her smile was pure happiness, and it made my chest feel tight.

Groaning as she rubbed herself against me, I leaned my head back against the pillows. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she replied, a wicked note in her voice. She leaned down and kissed my neck as I tilted my head back to give her better access.

“Does this feel real to you?”

Her kisses stopped. She lifted herself up so she could meet my gaze, a question dancing in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this. You and me.”

My cock chose that moment to insert itself into the conversation with a mighty throb. Carrie arched a brow. “Feels real enough.”

I huffed a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

She sat back, the sheet pooling behind her, over her calves and my legs, her body on full display. She was as gorgeous as she’d been all those years ago, all small breasts and pebbled nipples and lush lower curves. When she bit her lip, I couldn’t look away.

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