Page 78 of Miss Manage

Chapter Thirty-Five

GABRIEL

The sound of the alarm I’d set on my phone broke through the quiet, dragging me from the kind of deep sleep I rarely enjoyed. Beside me, Charlotte stirred at the noise, her body shifting against mine. I silenced the intrusion quickly. I didn’t want to spoil the moment.

For a long breath, I simply held her there with her back tucked against my chest, the soft rhythm of her breathing syncing with mine. The early light slipped through the curtains and caught on the strands of her hair which had fallen loose against the pillow.

I’d never been much on snuggling. It always felt too intimate, too exposing. But now? With her, the contact grounded me. Her warmth seeped into my skin, and instead of feeling trapped, I felt anchored.

I pressed my face into her shoulder, breathing her in. She made a soft sound, one landing somewhere between a sigh and a hum, hitting me low and deep.

Her fingers brushed over my forearm, light and unthinking, but warmth climbed into my chest. I wanted to tell her all the things left unsaid last night, but the words would come out as too much, too soon. And she’d pull away.

So instead, I shifted, my hand tracing the curve of her hip, slow and deliberate. She drew in a breath but didn’t move. My lips found the back of her neck, tasting her skin, soft and still warm from sleep.

Her head tilted slightly. It was a silent invitation that erased whatever restraint I had left. My hand slid up her stomach, over the steady rise and fall of her breath, until I could feel the flutter of her pulse beneath my thumb.

She shifted in my arms, turning toward me, her eyes still heavy with sleep but searching. “What time is it?” she murmured, voice low and rough around the edges.

“Early,” I answered, my hand still resting on her waist.

“We have a plane to catch home.”

“Yeah.” But neither of us moved.

Her gaze flicked down to my mouth, and that small, involuntary glance undid me. I leaned in, brushing my lips over hers, barely a touch, testing, asking.

“I have morning breath,” she whispered between closed lips.

“Good. Me, too.”

She answered by closing the distance, fingers sliding up to my neck, pulling me closer.

The kiss deepened, slow at first, languid, until it wasn’t. Until it fully dissolved into heat. My hand moved lower, over the curve of her hip, down her thigh, drawing her closer until there was no space left to breathe, let alone think.

She broke the kiss long enough to murmur, “We have to make this quick if we want to catch our flight.”

“This has become a terrible habit,” I grumbled. Not wanting to rush this, I let my lips trace the edge of her jaw.

“I know, but I have meetings in the office when I return.”

Same. But right about now I didn’t want to be reminded of them. “Fine, but we make time this weekend when we can have hours together because this isn’t cutting it.”

She shivered in response.

I rolled her gently onto her back, bracing a hand beside her head. For a heartbeat, I simply stared at her with hair tousled against the pillow, her eyes dark with something feeling a hell of a lot like trust. At least the beginning of it.

The words I wanted to confess were too big for the space between us, so I endeavored to show her instead.

Traveling south, I started by lavishing attention on both of her breasts, mentally promising I’d revisit each of them another time when I didn’t have to rush.

“Gabe….” she gasped when my fingers found her wet and ready. “I wish we had more time.”

“I promise to make this quick.”

We boarded our flight to San Diego with only minutes to spare, both of us slipping back into work mode as if I hadn’t spent the night in her bed and made her come this morning.

The woman with the assigned seat next to Charlotte in first class fussed with her carry-on, and I happily assisted her in lifting it up into the overhead space. Before I could second-guess it, I offered a smile and a quiet, “Mind switching seats?”