Page 28 of Kisses and Paperclips

Something’s coming.

I can feel it in my chest, my throat, the way my body won’t sit still even as I lower myself into the nearest chair.

“Everything’s going well, thank you,” I said automatically, hoping she didn’t hear the crack in my voice.

She nodded once.

Then, just as the door clicked closed behind the last person—

Her entire face lit up.

“Julien!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking on the name. “Serena, you have to meet my eldest son.”

Julien.

That name. That fucking name. What were the odds?

My eyes jerked to the doorway like it was a crime scene.

There he stood.

Well, fuck me sideways.

Oh, wait, he already had. Thoroughly. Last night.

Julien Brooks.

A Motherfucking Brooks.

Of course, I skipped the last names. Why bother when all I’d wanted was his talented mouth and those sinful hands?

My stomach bottomed out, then flipped like a pancake on a griddle. Those weren’t butterflies. This was a full hurricane tearing through my insides.

This would be my luck, the universe handing me this cosmic joke.

The man who was supposed to remain a delicious secret was now standing there as Ms. Brooks’ son.

The one with the devil’s smile and those sculptor’s hands that had mapped my body like priceless art. Who I’d practically fled from this morning, swearing it would never happen again.

Now he strolled into the conference room like he owned the damn company.

Like he hadn’t spent the night imprinting me into the hotel headboard.

Like his mouth hadn’t whispered filthy words against my throat, words that would cling to my skin for days, months, maybe forever.

And damn—

That same panty-melting smirk.

Those same knowing eyes, locking onto mine with the confidence of a man holding a winning hand.

My pulse gave a series of uneven beats, then quickened; treacherous and reckless. My face burned hot with shame before I even opened my mouth.

Why is he here?

Last night’s memories came rushing back.

Every whispered moan against sweat-slicked skin. Every bruising kiss he’d pressed into my skin like a brand. The way he’d looked at me, like he already knew this story wasn’t finished.

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