“Do you think you can walk? Or did I fuck you right?”
Eyes half-closed, lying limp on my stomach with Daniel’s weight on my back, I smile into the pillow. “I couldn’t walk even if I wanted to,” I mumble against the fabric, sighing as he kisses down my spine.
His every touch is tender. He may fuck me like I’m unbreakable, but afterward, he’s nothing but gentle. Every caress is meant to heal.
“Do you need to go?” I ask. He never stays long, and I thought that was how we both wanted it, but now I’m not so sure.
It doesn’t make sense for him to stay over anyway. Showing up at the office wearing yesterday’s clothes wouldn’t be ideal. He’s a man, so I doubt anyone would really notice, but he doesn’t seem the type to want to do that. Then again, what do I know?
He shakes his head, his stubbled jaw brushing my skin as he presses a kiss to the small of my back. “No,” he says. “I’ll stay awhile.”
I let out a contented sound, a little surprised but mostly pleased that he isn’t leaving.
This isn’t just about sex anymore. There’s an intimacy now that’s caught me off guard. I’m not quite sure what to make of it, or if it will even last, but…I want it to.
The thought scares me more than it probably should, but the last time I opened up to that kind of attachment, I got my heart broken. Being willing to put myself out there again after years of being happily single would be a big step, and to do it with Daniel, someone I shouldn’t be with for a variety of reasons, is a huge risk.
The environment at Naiad is undeniably relaxed, and our HR department is really only around to handle payroll and company events, so maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal. But I can’t forget that nagging clause about fraternization.
Not to mention I’m one of our acquisition authors as well. Any favors done for me—like Daniel pushing to produce physical copies of my books without the stats to back it up—could get one or both of us into serious trouble. And could mean losing our jobs.
So is this—whatever it is—worth the risk?
“When do you go home?” Daniel asks, drawing me out of my thoughts as he kisses his way back up to my shoulders.
“Tomorrow after work,” I answer, a little disappointed that I can’t stay longer. That I can’t stay with him longer.
“And when will you be back?”
I crack open an eye and turn my head so I can see him in my periphery. “I don’t know. I haven’t scheduled it with Jim yet. Why? Are you planning something?”
“I just want to know when we can do this again.”
I freeze under his touch. What exactly does he mean by this? Because, so far, all it’s been is fucking, misunderstandings, and weird not-exactly-a-date dinners. Should I expect more of the same? Or will it be something else entirely?
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Not only do I need to know what he wants out of our arrangement going forward, but if we’re going to continue, we should discuss the chances we’re taking with Naiad. We were careless today, and there could still be blowback. But if we keep doing this, the chances of being discovered will grow exponentially. I have to know if he’s okay with facing that.
Daniel sighs against my neck. “How much more obvious do I have to make it for you?”
Here we go again. Another patronizing little comment because I can’t read his mind, struggling to process how we went from hating each other to…this. I don’t know what risks he’s willing to take. If he can’t be transparent with me, then fine—I’ll do it for the both of us.
“You think you’ve made it obvious?” I challenge him, dislodging him so I can roll over. Once we’re lying side by side, facing each other, I elaborate. “Daniel, I’m here once, maybe twice a month. We barely talk between my trips. We’ve been doing this for months, and I don’t even have your phone number. I have to fucking Slack you when I want to talk.”
I draw in a breath, fighting to keep my composure. “You’re attracted to me; I get that. You want to fuck me; I get that too. But other than that? I don’t know what you want from me. Yes, you’ve explained what happened last month, but even so, you made me feel like I was just some lay you wanted to avoid. And I never want to experience that again.”
I cringe when my voice cracks a little. I hate being vulnerable like this, but I refuse to keep dragging things out with this man if I don’t know where we’re headed. “You’re here living your own life, and I don’t know how I fit into that,” I push on. “You’ve never made that clear. For all I know, one day, you’ll show up in a relationship with the girl of your dreams and this will all end. I don’t even know what this is.”
“Why do you think it would be me in the relationship?” he questions, ignoring everything else I’ve said. “Why not you?”
Because I’m in deep with you already. “I’m not dating around.”
“Neither am I.”
I groan and cover my face. What am I not saying right? “It’s not just about that.” I drop my hands and give him a pleading look. “You asked what I wanted from you. But what do you want from me?”
He examines me, his dark eyes guarded, unreadable. “Get your phone,” he finally says.
Unbelievable. I pour my heart out, and that’s all he says? “Are you serious right now?”
“Get it,” he insists. “And unlock it.”
I huff and push myself up from the bed. I rip off the duvet to wrap around me, wincing at the soreness between my legs. Storming over to where I’ve left my purse by the door, I curse under my breath. The nerve. I should toss him out, not humor him. But here I am, rustling through notebooks, pens, and receipts until my fingers curl around my phone. I punch in my passcode, then toss the device to him. My anger only grows when he catches it with ease.
“There,” he says a moment later as I glower at him from beside the bed. “Now you have my number.”
He holds the phone out to me, and I snatch it back. Sure enough, his name is in my contacts.
“Stop doubting me, Selene,” he says, dragging my attention back to him. “And stop doubting yourself.” He holds his hand out to me. “Now drop the duvet and get back in bed. I’m not done with you.”
I’m hesitant as I put my phone on the bedside table, but I do as he commands, letting the white fabric slip through my fingers. Daniel watches as it drops to the floor, eating up every inch of my bare skin.
“Come here, mi amor.” The endearment doesn’t sound like a taunt this time. “Come back to bed.”
It takes a beat, but I kneel on the mattress, though that’s as far as I go. He has me on my back in no time, pinned by his hips. He’s not hard yet, but the feel of him stirring makes me want him inside me again, despite my better judgment.
“If you come to the city again this month, I won’t be here. I’ll be out of town for the next two weeks.” He grasps my chin so I can’t avoid his stare. “But next month, I want to have a weekend with you. I want to take you on a real date.”
My heart is in my throat. If giving me his number was a tiny step, then this is a massive leap. This is Daniel’s declaration. He wants more than a no-strings-attached situation, and he’s not afraid of our company finding out about us. And it seems there truly is an us now.
I resist the urge to ask are you sure that’s a good idea? Instead, I swallow back my doubts and tell him, “I’ll come up Saturday night. That’s the best I can do.”
“I’ll be waiting.” He doesn’t let go of my chin as he lowers his lips to mine. He kisses me slow and sweet, then pulls back a fraction of an inch and murmurs, “But I’ll give you something to tide you over until then.”
When his hand finally leaves my face and traces lower, I know I’m going to be thinking about his touch until I can feel it again.
