“CAN I HEAR the presentation?”
“What?” Sophie looked up from the buttons she was working on as she walked out of the kitchen. She was wearing my dress shirt, which went down to her thighs, and I’d just pulled on my suit pants because someone had to open the damn door for the delivery driver.
Yes, she’d ordered pizza mere moments after we finished, and now we looked like we’d been forced to share one outfit.
“I interrupted,” I said, opening my desk drawer to grab cash for the driver, “and I’d really like to hear what you were going to say.”
“First of all, who are you that you have an envelope of cash in your desk drawer—John Gotti? And second of all, no.” Her eyebrows were furrowed as she watched me slide two twenty-dollar bills into my pant pocket. “You yelled at me when I tried presenting it to you.”
“It’s poker winnings, not drug money,” I said, trying not to laugh when she looked so insulted. “And I didn’t yell.”
“You did, too, and I said more than enough.” She pushed up her glasses and lifted her chin. “More than enough.”
“And it was fucking perfection,” I said, crossing the room because I needed to touch her. Her eyes fired up as I reached her, and her mouth twitched into a little smile as I grabbed the front of the shirt and gently pulled her against me. Her smile was like a power switch that controlled the brightness of my universe all of a sudden, and it was exhilarating and terrifying, all at the same time. “But now I want to hear the logistical insights of us from the brilliant, strategic-thinking woman I’m obsessed with.”
“Is it weird that I prefer brilliant, strategic thinker over baby girl or some other sexy pet name?” she asked, and the fact that I knew she meant it made me smile.
“So weird,” I said, lowering my mouth to her ear and whispering, “you fucking brilliant, strategic-thinking vice president.”
“And now I’m this close to another orgasm,” she teased, laughing when I bit down on the side of her neck.
“So . . . ?” I prodded, lifting my head. The truth of the matter was that I regretted cutting her off just when she’d been about to discuss her feelings. What she’d said to me in the heat of the moment was all that I needed, but I was curious to see what else she’d thought was worthy to include in her discussion.
“Hmmm,” she said, dragging her bottom lip through her teeth as her eyes narrowed. “How about I give you my phone and you can read the slides?”
“I don’t know—” I started to say, but the door buzzer cut me off.
Sophie stuck her hand in my pocket, grabbed the money, and said with a devilish grin, “You can read them while I go get the pizza.”
“You’re not wearing pants,” I said in disbelief as she walked toward the door.
“The shirt is long.”
“I don’t even know where your phone is,” I yelled as she pulled open the front door.
“On the counter, right next to the spot where you nailed me,” she yelled back with a laugh as she exited.
I ran over to the door and yelled into the hallway, “I don’t know your passcode, dipshit.”
“I don’t have one, asshat,” she yelled back as I heard the elevator ding. “So go crazy and I’ll be right back.”
I just stood there, staring at the spot where she’d been, my heart paralyzed with feelings.
Fuck me, I’d fallen so hard that I wasn’t even trying to get up.
