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I didn’t stop kissing her, even when I set her down. We stayed locked, breathless, our lips tangled, our tongues exploring, my arms above her head, caging her in. “Drake . . .”It wasn’t a question.It was a reaction.A feeling I had to release before my palms traveled down her sides, taking in those incredible curves, the arches of her body that I wanted to ravage. My cock craved to be inside her as I rounded her rib cage and lowered to her navel, each section as seductive and enticing as the one before.And with each spot I discovered, I kissed her harder.Deeper.I gave her more of my tongue.What that eventually earned me was her touch, first on my stomach, where those small, delicate fingers slid across my abs. She took her time, getting well acquainted before she rose to my arms and shoulders, gradually cupping my face.That was where she halted.Where her hands began to study me as though my scruff were whispering every one of my secrets to her.I closed my arms around her, our
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Me: I can’t stop thinking about that kiss . . .CHAPTER TWENTYDrakeThe elevator wouldn’t move any faster. I slammed my finger against the button to my floor repeatedly, as though each hit would force the speed to double.But it didn’t.As the lift rose, the pace was more like a crawl, and I wished, just in this moment, that I’d leased an apartment on a lower level—anything that would get me home quicker.Because . . .That taste.That feel.That . . . mouth.My other hand brushed my lips, back and forth, as though I were memorizing the texture of my skin. But instead, with each wipe, memories were exploding in my head.I’d studied two weeks’ worth of data—expressions, gestures, scents—and the results were so apparent after tonight, especially once he’d pointed toward his building and I’d caught a glimpse of his tattoo.The one on the inside of his bicep.The one that confirmed every other sign I’d witnessed.And felt.I no longer had to test.To analyze.I knew.And I’d been staring
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My chest tightened. My hand shook as I gripped the phone against my face. “What the hell do I say? ‘Oh, hiiii, I’m SaarasLove, and this is just a giant coincidence. How’s life been for the past five years and change? Yes, I’m the one you banged in the stairwell while we were both masked. And now I’m back in your life as a director at your company—oh, you want me to do your international launch even though I know you have the biggest dick I’ve ever seen in my life? Awesome, let’s get that done.’ Suuure.”She laughed. “I love you so much.”“I’m freaking out, Saara.”“We’ll get this sorted out. I promise. But, first, you have to tell Easton who you are. He obviously hasn’t figured it out or he would have said something to you. Therefore, you need to be the one.”“Of course he hasn’t figured it out. He’s a boy, they don’t pick up on detail like we do, and you insisted on setting up my profile and giving me SaarasLove, which at the time was kinda cute, but now I’m realizing it was a horrib
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That alone made me want to change the way Hooked collected data for trial memberships. I didn’t give a fuck if they canceled before the thirty days were over. I wanted to know who they were.I wanted to know her name.I wanted just a tiny bit of information that would give me a clue as to who this woman was and why things had gone so wrong.But Love owned only part of my thoughts.The other half, the more dominant side, was Drake.Not a single thing in my office—not my email, my ringing office line, not even the knock on my door—could pull me out of the trance I was in as I replayed last night’s kiss.Watching it over and fucking over in my head.Knowing she was only down the hall, in her office, was driving me mad.I wanted to see her.I wanted to be around her.I wanted to smell her in the goddamn air.I didn’t know why, when I’d climbed into bed long after my shower, I ached so goddamn hard for a woman I barely knew. But inside, somewhere deep, it felt like we’d spent years togethe
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWODrakeI sat alone at the same table I’d shared with Saara just minutes ago. The chunky ice cube was melting into water at the bottom of my glass, each sip now only full of the lemon and rosemary that had garnished the Manhattan my best friend had ordered me, the liquor much stronger than a small pour of sauvignon blanc. Saara’s hope was that it would whittle away my nerves, making the prickles in my body less blunt, but it hadn’t worked. The thought of Easton and Mr. Boston still turned me into a nonstop-talking, jittery mess.As did the—oh God—questions.I didn’t even know where to start with those or how to process them.Or what to even think.But my best friend had been very strategic with her departure, leaving less than a ten-minute window before Mr. Boston’s arrival. A few minutes before eight o’clock, the door to the bar opened with force, a familiar face walking through the entrance, his eyes scanning the large space, unsure of who he was looking for.I had
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I handed her the tumbler and said, “He’ll take one of these too. Thank you.” I waited until she was gone before I said another word. “After five-plus years, I came back to Boston and accepted a job with Hooked—the same place, in a sense, where I met you—and then it turns out you were the guy I fell for back then, and in two weeks we reconnected just as strongly as we had before.” I rubbed my thumb over the grooves in the table. “It’s hard to believe that two people who are so different matched at one hundred percent and hit it off not once, but twice.” I analyzed his stare, first his left eye and then his right. “What are the chances.”He took a deep breath. “I don’t deny that—or any of this. But I can’t stop thinking about then, the way you just disappeared, changed your number, and gave me no way to ever reach out to you again. Why?” He added, “I didn’t deserve that.”“No”—I shook my head—“you didn’t.”“Make me understand.”When I filled my lungs, I held the air inside.“And another
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“But to change your number? That, I don’t get.”I sighed. That day, like so many others, had hurt.“Faceframe gave me a company phone and there was no reason to maintain two lines, so I got rid of my personal one. Before I did that, every morning I would wake up and look to see if there was a text from you. I was battling the loss of my mom, and I couldn’t even distinguish grief from happiness anymore. I was just moving, keeping busy, burying myself as deep as I could so I didn’t have to think about that permanent hole in my chest.” I stopped to breathe. “I could have reached out, of course, but again, I didn’t trust myself.I didn’t trust what I’d say to you, what I’d promise you, what I’d ultimately do if you asked me for more. I wasn’t in the right headspace. So I thought if I disconnected, if I made it impossible for us to communicate, I would be able to move on.”“Did you?”I shook my head. “Not even close.”Silence ticked between us, but his stare was as strong as ever.It didn’
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“We don’t have to figure out anything right now.”She nodded gently.“I just need to know one thing.” I wasn’t going to reach for her hand; I didn’t want my touch to influence her decision. “I need to know if you have any feelings for me. If this is something—if I’m something—you want. I’m not saying we have to move straight into a relationship or dive head in. I’m not saying this has to instantly turn into something extremely heavy. What I’m saying is”—I felt my voice lower to a growl—“if I lean in to kiss you, would you let me have your lips or would you stop me?”Emotion slid into her eyes.“I’ve waited over five years to touch you again, Drake. First with Love. Now . . . you.” I rested my arms on the table, my sleeves not high enough, so I pushed them to my elbows. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait, because that kiss . . .” My voice drifted off. “It wasn’t nearly enough.”She glanced down, her hands moving into her lap.Her face was hidden, not allowing me to read it.Fuck,
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