Page 65 of So Close

The sweet stroking of your velvet tongue makes me sigh with pleasure. I melt into the luscious delight of your thorough kissing. Your lips are so firm but soft. Your deep, slow licks savor me. There’s a low hum of pleasure in your throat, like the purr of a big cat. You cradle my head in your hands and take my mouth as if the taste of me is all you need now and forever.

I convey my gratitude for your love with worship, running my adoring hands over every bit of your tremendous body I can reach. You arch into my touch and catch my lower lip between your teeth, tugging.

Stretching over me, you hold on as you turn onto your back, taking me with you. Your chest pillows my cheek. Your fingers tangle in my hair. “If I don’t get up and start working, I’ll end up staying in bed with you all day.”

“Not yet.” I reach over to grab your phone off the nightstand. Settling into the crook of your shoulder, I open the camera and hold the phone high in the air.

You huff out a laugh. “I’m surprised I have any storage left with the number of pictures you’ve taken.”

I snap a picture while kissing your cheek. Then look up and smile wide, not just for posterity but because you’ve got the sexy, satisfied look of a man who’s just had great sex, then you’ve capped it off with a smile so bright with happiness it makes my heart sing. I take a burst of pictures, which makes us both laugh.

“I’m going to get dressed,” you tell me, “and you’re going to review the ECRA+ advertising creative and give me your opinion over lunch.”

It’s not a question. Over the past few days, when you’ve been sated enough to keep your body idle, you’ve caught me up on events both big and small. It’s been a flood of information as if I’m cramming for a quiz you don’t want me to fail.

“I said I would,” I concede, “but I’m still waiting on your reasoning for wanting my opinion. You have employees who handle your marketing; you’ve trusted their instincts before. And this is your sister’s project. I’m sure she’s done a wonderful job. I’m sure your mother guaranteed she did.”

Your chest lifts and falls heavily beneath my cheek. “I want you involved with Baharan. It’s yours as much as it’s mine.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You don’t get to say that,” you retort, with a playful tug of my hair.

“Why not?”

“This was your plan, the reason you groomed me. You –”

““Grooming” isn’t the right word,” I say wryly.

You shoot me a look. “I never even thought of Baharan before you came along. You brought it up and suggested I revive it.”

“Iaskedif you’d ever considered reviving it.”

“Semantics.”

“Elucidation.”

“That’s fucking annoying!”

I smile. “You know how I am about using the right word.” Crossing my arms on your chest, I set my chin on my forearms. “Sell your stake if you don’t want it.”

“Ourstake. And I never said I don’t want it. I want you involved in it.”

“And I said no, and you said I don’t get to say that.”

Your hand thrusts into my hair to grip my neck. “Why wouldn’t you want to work with me? You’re so good at seeing into people, seeing their potential and capabilities. Why wouldn’t you share that gift with me?”

“I’ll share whatever I can with you, Kane. What’s mine is yours, the good and the bad. I’m sorry about the bad. It’s just –”

“Don’t joke.” Your face is hard, the face of the man I woke up to weeks ago. “And get to the point.”

“You don’t need my approval. I’m proud of you for a million reasons that have nothing to do with your job or bank account. You’re doing brilliantly without me.”

“I don’t want to do anything without you, brilliant or not. And are you seriously psychoanalyzing me?” you snap. “I ask you to work with me, and you try to shrink my head. Okay.”

You slide away and move to get out of bed. I fall onto my back and stare at the ceiling.

Marching toward the closet, you pause midway. I lift my head to study you. You’re still for a moment, your hands clenched at your sides. I know you’re irritated, but your backside is so glorious I can’t help but admire it.

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