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“You’re welcome. You sleep okay last night?”
My cheeks turn pink and his pupils dial out.
“My sleep was a little interrupted,” I admit in a whisper, but I clutch him tighter so that he knows that I liked it. Because Mitch’s staminaisunmatched. Every time I roused slightly in the night Mitch would instantly wake up too, our eyes meeting in the darkness and then his body rolling on top of mine. Waiting for my approval and then rummaging for a condom, his free hand caressing firmly down my body, waking me up for what he was about to do.
“Next time I won’t start my work beside you. I should’ve come straight to the office. I should’ve let you sleep in for longer,” he murmurs, one hand dipping beneath the back of my skirt and sliding up over my ass. When his hand is full he squeezes my cheek tightly and grunts.
I shake my head and give him a reassuring smile. “I liked waking up next to you. It was sexy watching you work.”
He gives me a headshake of his own, but his ruddy cheeks belie his true feelings.
“Spreadsheets aren’t sexy, Harper.”
“They are when you’re doing them.”
He ducks his head to hide his smile.
I press myself against him and he lifts back up, eyeing me questioningly.
“Why did you want me to meet you here?” I ask.
He gestures behind him to his laptop and I watch his jaw harden, like he’s slightly unsure.
“Plane tickets,” he states. “To go to your movie. I was gonna book them but I need, uh, I need you to tell me what you want.”
“What do you mean?”
“What kind of ticket,” he clarifies.
I’m still not totally sure what he’s talking about.
He jerks his head in alet’s take a lookgesture and then walks us around the desk until we’re at his chair. He pulls it out for me and nods for me to sit down. I take my seat and then look at the laptop screen when he pulls it in front of me.
“I got the departure date and the airport details but…” He pauses for a moment and I look at him behind me from over my shoulder. His eyes penetrate into mine and I feel a jolt of lightning in my belly. “I need to know if you’re staying, Harper. I need to know if you’re staying here or there.”
I blink at him, lost.
“Staying,” I repeat.
Realising that I’m not following he lays it all out, crystal clear.
“I need to know if I’m booking you a one-way ticket out of my life, Harper, or if you’re going to let me keep you. The ticket’s either going to be a one-way or a return, and I don’t know where your head’s at because we haven’t spoken about it. It’s… it’s your choice, Harper.”
Oh.
Oh.
So that’s what was on his mind this morning – the uncertainty about our future together.
I keep looking up at him, nervous to tell him what I want.
“Do you have a preference?” I ask him quietly, my fingers twiddling with the hem of my skirt.
His eyes track the movement for a brief moment and then they fly back to mine, his gaze so intense that I feel pinned against the seat.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I do. I know exactly where I want this to be heading. But it’s up to you, Harper. It’s up to you where we go from here.”
The weight of the responsibility combined with the heat in his eyes makes me arch and writhe on his seat with nervousness. He follows the motion and swipes his tongue over his lower lip.
