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Marriage had never been in my plans. I preferred being alone, having no one to answer to. Never even came close. The idea of a lifelong partner was foreign to me, especially since my parents’ marriage was the furthest thing from healthy. I didn’t witness what real love was like growing up.

I didn’t need that kind of complication in my life.

After their laughter subsided, Eleanor passed the questions to Tawnie and told her to take over. She stayed seated, manning the camera, and pressed play again. Leaning back, she crossed her arms over her chest, unintentionally pushing her breasts together. Her effect on me was instant, and my eyes couldn’t help but linger.

Eleanor cleared her throat, and when I finally looked up, she mouthed, Eyes up here, pervert.

Growing up in a household with fighting parents, I’d become an expert at reading lips, a skill honed out of necessity. I’d watched their blow ups from a distance, but that didn’t curb the curiosity. We were pushed away so they could fight without my brother and I trying to stop it.

In the beginning, we gave it our all to curb the arguments. But as we got older, we were trained by a gleam in our dad’s eye that said we needed to scram because we chanced being his next target.

I shook my head and dropped my gaze back to her cleavage before looking at Tawnie for the next question.

“Do you have a hot twin? Can you take me to Paris?” Tawnie asked, her cheeks glowing bright pink as she tugged at the collar of her shirt, as if the question had physically tightened the air around her.

Eleanor leaned over, whispering something in Tawnie’s ear that made her choke on a laugh and pull her lips in tight. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Eleanor returned forward, her expression far too pleased with herself.

Jesus Christ.

Eleanor waved her hand, urging me to continue. “Come on, Mr. Stone, the people need to know,” she teased, her smile wide and far too smug.

There was no way someone had actually asked that question. Strangers on the internet couldn’t be that brazen. Could they? I stared at Eleanor, waiting for her to crack under the pressure of my scrutiny.

She didn’t. Instead, she bit her lip, sitting defiantly in her chair, that infuriating look still plastered on her face.

I wanted to kiss that smug expression away. I wanted to bend her over the desk, fuck that look off her face, and make her beg for forgiveness.

I knew that question had come from her mind, not some anonymous internet stranger—how she was acting now gave it all away.

Forgetting the camera, I shifted in my chair to face her more directly. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk, my gaze challenging hers.

“Tell me, Eleanor. Have you ever been to Paris?” I asked, my head tilting slightly.

Her eyes narrowed just a bit, the corner of her mouth twitching as she fought a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Stone?” she shot back, her tone just as challenging.

The restraint it took not to bark at Tawnie to leave so Eleanor and I could battle this out, to use the tension in the air as an excuse to get wrapped up in each other again, was almost unbearable. Each moment passed with a reminder that it was far too soon. Eleanor and I had a close call—emotionally, for me anyway. I had to check myself, pull back, and stop letting my head get caught up in her.

I leaned back in my chair and muttered to Tawnie, “Next question,” choosing to move on.

She obeyed, and we finished without any more hiccups. The glances Eleanor and I exchanged spoke volumes, screaming louder than I wanted to acknowledge. I forced myself to ignore the pull between us.

As we wrapped up, Eleanor packed away the tripod, chatting with Tawnie about their dinner plans, confirming them like I wasn’t even in the room. Not that I would’ve said yes if they asked, but something about their plans outside work hours irked me more than it should.

Once Tawnie left, I broke the silence. “I know it was you who asked the Paris question.”

I stood, walking around to the front of my desk where Eleanor stood. Leaning against the surface with my arms folded over my chest, I brought myself almost to her height.

Her body hovered close to mine, the energy between us crackling like a slow, simmering fire.

“Oh, did I?” she quipped with mock innocence.

“You could’ve just asked me for another round, Sunshine. I would’ve made you come so hard you’d swear you saw God himself,” I said, my voice low. “By now, I think you know I can’t find it in myself to deny you.”

Eleanor moved closer, standing between my knees, which were spread in a relaxed position. Her scent—familiar and intoxicating—filled my senses, sending shockwaves through my body.

“Maybe one just isn’t enough,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. Her eyes darkened, filled with a sultry challenge that made the base of my spine tingle. “Maybe I need two big, strong men to take me. To fill me.”

For a flickering moment, I was almost stupid enough to consider reaching for my desk phone and calling my own fucking brother, demanding he get on the next flight here. But, the thought brought on a surge of hot jealousy, and there was no way I’d ever actually let that happen.