His hand moved up to rest on my breast, thumb brushing along the underside. “I can’t help but wonder what’s under this pretty little sweater,” he said.
I sucked in a breath, felt my nipples harden beneath the thin cashmere. He slipped one button through the hole, and then another, until the cardigan fell open and his eyes moved over my barely-there bra. He hummed in appreciation. “This is new.”
“And expensive. Don’t ruin it,” I warned.
He couldn’t contain his smug smile. “I would never.”
“You bought me a four-hundred-dollar slip and then used it to tie me to your bed, Bennett.”
He laughed, pushing the sweater from my shoulders, taking his time to unwrap me like a gift. Long fingers moved to the waist of my skirt and the soft sound of the zipper filled the room. He did as he’d promised, purposefully peeling the wool from my hips and down my legs to pool at my feet, leaving me in only my lace bra and rather skimpy panties.
The air conditioner switched on and a low whir carried through the apartment, a burst of cool air rushing along my exposed skin. Bennett pulled me down onto his lap, my legs on either side of his hips. The rough fabric of his pants brushed against the backs of my bare thighs, my practically naked ass. I should have felt vulnerable like this—with me in so little and him fully dressed—but I relished it. It was so much like our first night together at his home, after my presentation, after we’d both admitted we didn’t want to be without the other and he let me tie him up so I could have the nerve to hear how much I’d hurt him.
And then I realized this position was intentional. I suspected he was thinking about that exact night, too. His eyes shone with such hunger, such adoration, that I couldn’t help but feel a sense of power, like there wasn’t anything this man wouldn’t do if I just asked.
I reached for the buttons of his shirt, wanting him naked and over me, behind me—everywhere. I wanted to taste him, scratch marks into his skin, and connect them with my fingers, my lips and my teeth. I wanted to stretch him out on the table and fuck him until any thought of either of us ever leaving this room was a distant memory.
Somewhere in the apartment, a phone rang. We froze, neither of us saying anything, both waiting, hoping it had been a fluke and that nothing but silence would follow. But the shrill ringtone—one I’d become all too familiar with—filled the air again. Work. The emergency ringtone. And not the regular emergency one—the emergency-emergency one. Bennett swore, resting his forehead against my chest. My heart pounded beneath my ribs and my breaths felt too quick, too loud.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said when it continued to ring. “I have to—”
“I know.” I stood, using the back of the chair to support my shaky legs.
Bennett scrubbed his hands over his face before he stood and crossed the room, finding his phone where he’d slung his jacket over the back of the couch. “Yeah,” he said, and then listened.
I bent for my sweater and slipped it over my shoulders, found my skirt and pulled it up my hips. I carried the dishes into the kitchen while he talked. I was trying to give him some sense of privacy but grew concerned as his voice continued to rise.
“What do you mean they can’t find it?” he shouted. I leaned against the doorway and watched as he paced back and forth in front of the wide wall of windows. “This is happening tomorrow and someone’s misplaced the fucking master file? Can’t someone else handle this?” A pause ensued in which I swear I actually watched Bennett’s blood pressure rise. “Are you kidding?” Another pause. Bennett closed his eyes tight and took a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.”
When he ended the call, it took a moment for him to look at me.
“It’s okay,” I said.
“It’s not.”
He was right. It wasn’t okay. It sucked. “Can’t someone else handle it?”
“Who? I can’t trust something this important to those incompetent assholes. The Timbk2 account launches tomorrow and the marketing team can’t find the file with the financial specs—” He stopped and shook his head, reached for his jacket. “God, we need someone in New York who knows what the fuck they’re doing. I’m so sorry, Chlo.”
Bennett knew how much we needed tonight, but he also had a job to do. I knew this better than anyone.
“Go,” I said, closing the distance between us. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.” I handed him his keys and stood up on my toes to kiss him.
“In my bed?”
I nodded.
“Wear my shirt.”
“Only your shirt.”
“I love you.”
I grinned. “I know. Now go save the world.”
FOUR
You have got to be fucking kidding me.