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“You can talk to me, you know,” I say softly and he only grunts in reply. “I know we’re not really together, but if we’re going to do this, we might as well try to share our lives with each other. And anyway, I’m a good listener.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “My cousin Riley’s wife is pregnant.”
“Oh,” I say and frown at him. He’s right, I don’t understand. “Uh, that’s a bad thing, right?”
“Right.”
“Can I ask why?”
He looks over and his eyes are intense as he stares back at me. Instead of directly answering my question, he says, “All day I’ve been thinking about coming home to you. Ever since you sent me that picture, I’ve been obsessing about stepping in through that elevator door and finding you still in that towel. I pictured myself tearing it off your body a dozen times at least. Do you have any idea how goddamndistractedI’ve been? Even though Riley’s a top contender to take my position as heir, especially now with thatfuckingbaby, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Ford,” I whisper.
He shifts slightly and rolls onto his side, staring at me across the line of hungry sharks or piranhas or whatever metaphor we’re using.
“It’s not supposed to be this way.” His jaw works and I can almost see the struggle playing out in his mind. It’s the same struggle playing out in mine. The worry, the confusion. The obsession. “You’re supposed to be a means to an end. We’re supposed to work together and nothing more. And yet every day I’m around you, it gets harder and harder and morecomplicated, and I find myself wanting to be home all the fucking time because of you.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” I say.
He nods once. “It’s a bad thing. If I had my way, I’d do nothing but stay in this room with you, right here in this bed, going over every inch of your body. I’d kiss your legs, your inner thighs, I’d taste your skin up to your—”
“Ford,” I say quickly. “You’re doing it again, aren’t you?”
“No,” he says and his voice is a husky mess. “I’m not doing that again.” He moves closer. Dangerously close. He’s right on top of the line and I’m trembling with fear and anticipation. One more inch and he’ll shatter any illusion of safety, and I don’t know what’ll happen to me then, but there’s a voice in my head that wants it to happen.
Transgress. Break free. Take me how I’ve always needed.
But I’m terrified it’s all for nothing.
“Then what are we doing?” I whisper, trying to keep the tremble from my voice. “When this started, I hated you. Don’t smile, it’s true, I really hated you because you’re everything I dislike about our stupid little social world. Rich and handsome and arrogant, and it’s like everything falls to your feet.”
“It doesn’t feel that way to me,” he says.
“But something changed. You changed. There’s something more going on and I don’t know what it is but I want you to open up to me, Ford. You said that I needed to be all-in, that you didn’t want a trophy wife, that you didn’t want something fake. You said we had to do this for real. Did you mean it?”
He’s quiet for a long time and I’m so afraid of what he’s going to say. Can I stay in this bed if he says no? Is it possible to die from embarrassment? A thousand thoughts swirl through my brain and my head won’t be quiet—
But he reaches out.
He crosses the line.
And touches my cheek gently.
“I mean it,” he says.
“Then fucking kiss me,” I whisper, and he comes closer, sharks and piranhas be damned, and his lips find mine in the dark and that whimper escapes my throat. I don’t care about being embarrassed or afraid or self-conscious, I don’t care about being nervous or anything like that, I only care about Ford in this bed with me right now.
It’s now or never, and it’s Ford or nobody. We’re skating along on the edge between all-in or nothing at all, and I want to tip one way or maybe I want to tip the other, I don’t know what I want but all I know is I need Ford’s mouth, his tongue and lips and his deep masculine groans, and I need him now, right here, his body on mine making me feel something I’ve only ever dreamed about.
I’m more than ready as he undresses me. He takes off my clothes with a ruthless efficiency, like he can’t wait, leaving only my panties. His eyes widen at the sight of my skin, at my breasts, my hips, and he kisses my nipples and sucks them as his hands move down to grip my ass. It’s embarrassing and so exciting letting him look at me like that. I gasp and push my hips against his hard cock and I start to gyrate up and down his shaft, grinding myself along him, feeling so filthy and giddyand beautiful, gliding up to my clit and back down. He growls his delight and buries his mouth on mine and I’m moaning into his tongue as his kiss deepens and deepens, and I feel myself dripping through my panties.
“I want you,” I whisper, trying to keep my breath under control as his fingers slide down between my legs and tease me. “I want you, Ford. I need you to fuck me.”
“I want you to say please.” He finally removes the last little thread of clothing and sinks his fingers deep inside. I curse and moan as my head tilts back. “I want you to beg, Katherine.”
