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“I hope so.”
I take her hand. “Want to see your new bedroom?”
She smiles. “Sure.”
“This is it.” I motion for her to enter.
“Wow. I wasn’t expecting this,” she says. “It’s so cozy.”
“Is that another word for small?” I joke, but it’s true. The Alaskan king is framed between two windows and takes up most of the space. I was able to squeeze a leather chair into the corner, but that’s the whole room.
“No. I mean, it is on the smaller side, but that’s not what I was saying. I thought it would be a blank canvas like the rest of the house.”
“I know I haven’t demonstrated my work ethic the last two days, but I’m a bit of a workaholic. The only time I’m home is when I’m sleeping, so I wanted to make sure I had somewhere comfortable to crash.”
Despite the limited space, I’ve tried to add my personal touch and make it stylish. The walls are adorned with a light gray, textured wallpaper on top and white wainscoting on the bottom. The only two windows are dressed in white shutters, with two matching gray nightstands beneath them. Each nightstand is adorned with a simple white and gold lamp.
The bed itself has a beautiful curved and tufted gray headboard, complimented by a bench at the foot. The bedding and pillows sport various shades of sage green and gray and are as fluffy as a marshmallow. When I lie in bed, it feels like I’m sleeping on a cloud. It’s heavenly.
“Did you make any of this?” she asks, sitting on the bench. Just seeing her this close to the bed has my cock perking up. My mind races with all the things I could do to her when space isn’t limited, like on her full-size mattress.
“I made the nightstands, headboard, and bench, and though they aren’t showing, my company made the mattress and bed frame.”
“So what you’re saying is no matter how wild we get on this bed, it wouldn’t break?” The innocent look on her face turns me on almost as much as her words.
I nod. “And no matter what fluid is spilled, it won’t ruin the mattress.”
“That gives me all sorts of ideas.”
After pulling her to her feet, I lift her into my arms, and her legs go around my waist. She scratches the back of my neck and scalp while I kiss the shit out of her. I slip a hand under her dress and am met with bare flesh. Goddamn, she’s wearing a thong, and I can’t wait to see her in it. I palm her ass and give it a squeeze, loving that there’s more than enough back there for me to hold onto.
I’m five seconds from stripping her down and fucking her before I remember that I’m withholding information from her. Information that might change her mind about getting naked with me.
Setting her down, I give her ass one more firm squeeze in case it’s a while before I get to feel it again. “While we were out today, I asked a couple of my employees to move some of your stuff.”
The dreamy look in her eyes vanishes without a trace. “What?”
“I didn’t want you to have the added stress of moving, so they packed everything, loaded it in one of our delivery trucks, and brought it here.” I open the door to the walk-in closet. What used to be an empty space, since I mostly rotate through the same seven outfits each week, is now full of frilly dresses, skirts, and colorful tops. I open a drawer in the dresser against one side and find it full of lacy and silky things. The next one down has various styles of socks, and the one below is full of floral print pajamas.
“You had one of your employees pack my underwear?”
I wince at the shrill tone. “It’s not like they went through it. They just dumped it in a box.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I told them to.”
“And you were there to oversee?”
“No, I was with you. Remember?”
“That was a rhetorical question.” She walks over to one of the nightstands and opens the drawer. I’m not sure how she knew that side would be hers, but she must’ve gotten it right because she shrieks so loud my eardrums ache. “My sex toys? You let them touch my sex toys?”
“Like I said, they just—” I mime dumping a drawer into a box.
“I’m so mad at you right now. How did they even get into my apartment?”
“Samuel knows how to pick locks, but he said a two-year-old could’ve picked yours,” I say unhelpfully.
“I can’t even look at you right now. And I’m not in my own home, so I have no idea where to go to get away from you.” She folds her arms tightly, not making eye contact.
“Let me show you.”
“Show me what? How they organized my bras by color?”
“I don’t know if they did that, but I could look.”
“Eaton,” she says, not finding me funny.
“Let me show you where to go when I piss you off.”
