Page 82 of Mr. Hook-up

I buried those thoughts and spied the mug in his hand. “Didn’t you grab coffee on our way to work?”

“I needed an excuse to come into the kitchen and see you.”

I added the creamer to my coffee and returned the carton to the fridge since Easton drank his black. “Sneaky, sneaky.” I lifted the warm brew to my lips, stopping to say, “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You’re the reason.” His voice was smooth, enticing. “I’m thinking about this morning. Last night. This past week.”

The combination of his gaze and each of the times he’d mentioned caused my heart to take off as though I were several paces past the starting line. It wasn’t a steady increase of thumps—this was an explosion of beats, my pulse hammering away in my neck.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re remembering this morning too ...” His stare started at my feet and slowly rose, taking in every section of mybody, inch by inch, the same way he had done just hours ago with his tongue.

“Because ... I am.”

And those memories were setting me on fire.

I was even finding it hard to breathe, to stop myself from jumping into his arms and begging him to carry me into his office, where he’d fuck me against the locked door.

Slow was still my preferred speed, but Easton and I were spending more time together. In fact, in the last week, I’d stayed only two nights at my apartment—the rest were with him. And each day at the office, I was learning to not let situations like this affect me. To not let his smiles and presence and each time he walked by my doorway get in the way of my job.

Because the minute that happened, something would have to change, and that was the last thing I wanted.

He took a drink. “Wait until you see what I’m going to do with you tonight.”

“What do you have in mind?”

He shifted his stance, crossing his feet. “Maybe the Jacuzzi on my rooftop. Or maybe homemade sushi that I’m going to eat off your body. Or maybe chocolate fondue.” His lips puckered, like he was envisioning the latter. “I’m leaning toward the chocolate.”

“We’re at work,” I reminded him again. “We can’t talk about this now.”

“Why?” His gaze dropped once more, stopping near my waist. “Because I’m making you wet?” He walked toward the door. “I’d hate for that to happen, especially because I can’t lick it away.”

Once he was gone, I stayed frozen in the same spot. My coffee untouched. My mind a mix of fantasies that he’d strategically planted, knowing exactly what he was doing and what that would do to me.

“Good morning, Drake,” Grayson said as he entered the kitchen.

The sound of his greeting pulled me out of my thoughts. “Morning.”

“Long night?”

I knew Easton hadn’t said anything to him, so the fact that I was standing in the corner of the kitchen, looking very dazed and confused, had to give that away.

“Why do you ask?”

He went over to the coffee machine and pressed several buttons. “Whenever I have that expression on my face, I either had a hell of a date the night before or I polished off a bottle of scotch when I should have stopped at a few glasses.”

I pushed away from the counter and pointed at my temple, giving it a quick rub. “Guilty.”

He smiled. “Coffee cures every kind of hangover.”

Just before I took a sip, I said, “I hope you’re right about that.” I left the kitchen and went into my office, wincing as I took a seat at my desk.

Every part of my body ached from Easton.

Something I’d never had before, but was getting used to the more I was with him.

I shook my mouse, waking my monitors, and saw that an email from Easton’s assistant had just come in. It was the itinerary for our trip to Germany, the arrival and departure times of our flights, the two rooms that had been booked at the hotel, and the details of the conference. The last bit was a full description of our extra day in Berlin, including the private car that had been reserved and the tours that had been scheduled.

I picked up my office line and, after hitting a few numbers, held the receiver to my ear.

---