I truly believed Matthew Holland was a spoiled idiot who was living so far up his own ass in fantasyland that he’d impetuously hired a man to get rid of the person standing in his way to financial wealth beyond his wildest dreams. I had to wonder if he hadn’t thought of me as a person until Holts’s attack went awry, and then was forced to see me, to see what he had done. Stupid, naive, and quickly terrified, he’d lost control of Holts and the entire scheme. I didn’t think I had anything to worry about regarding my future safety around Matthew.
Holts, however, was a different deal altogether. I felt so much safer knowing Vernon Holts was in prison and, if my lawyers had anything to say about it, would be going away for a long time. That knowledge allowed me to concentrate on starting to put the pieces of my new life together. I contacted Renée and Antoine to tell them I wouldn’t be accepting the job. I apologized for messing them around, and they were incredibly understanding about the whole thing.
I’d put feelers out looking for a job in Boston in events management. The last few weeks hadn’t brought up anything that sounded appealing financially, and I was beginning to wonder if this career change meant starting from the ground up again.
By week three Caine suggested what Charlie the Red Sox date had suggested months ago—that I start my own events planning company. The idea of starting my own company, however, didn’t exhilarate me like it did Caine. All I could imagine was constantly bringing my work home with me, and I didn’t want that. I understood work spilled into personal life, but I didn’t want my whole world to revolve around my business. That wasn’t me. And I couldn’t imagine Caine and I would ever see much of each other if we were both running our own companies.
When I said that to him he was quick to agree that I should look at joining someone else’s company. To help me along he was using his own connections to see if there were any open positions in that industry. Meanwhile, his offer for me to remain working with him if I couldn’t find anything was on the table.
What hadn’t been on the table was sex.
By week six into my recovery, although weighed down by the stress of the case against Matthew and Holts, and finding a new job, I was feeling much better physically.
Something I kept trying to explain to Caine.
Although he insisted that I stay at his apartment throughout my recovery, he was very careful with me. I was treated to delicious kisses and gentle caresses but nothing more. After the kissing he’d release me and whisper, “Soon,” in my ear.
Well, I was getting sick of “soon.” I wanted now. When I’d attempted to push the subject, he got stern with me and told me to be patient, that it was important I made a full recovery.
Of course Caine should have realized by now that telling me what to do outside of the office was never a good idea. My answer was to head home to my apartment and get settled in. I had to admit I’d missed my place. I loved Caine’s but only because it was where he was, and I loved his view. Nothing beat his view. Or the fact that Effie was just down the hall.
But my place was home too.
And I was recovered, so it was time to be home. I texted Caine while he was at work.
Just wanted to let you know I’ve gone home to my apartment. It’s time to get back into the swing of things. Thanks for everything, Roomie. Love you.
Half an hour later he replied.
Have I told you lately how stubborn you are? Fine. I’ll come over after work.
He just can’t stay away. I grinned, giddy at his response, and wondered if that feeling would ever go away.
I was less giddy when he showed up late that evening, exhausted by a day trip to New York, and crashed on my bed. I stared down at him feeling a mixture of tenderness and disappointment. Tonight was supposed to be the night we finally had sex after all these weeks. I didn’t know about Caine, but I was past the point of frustration.
He looked so tired, though. I stroked his hair back from his face and wondered if we could keep up our pattern of working around his career. We did a good job of making time for each other—Caine did a wonderful job of making sure he spent time with me in spite of his busy schedule. I had my fingers crossed we’d never lose that consideration for each other.
And sex … well, we’d just have to be creative.
I smiled in anticipation as I walked around to my side of the bed and set my alarm to low so that it would wake me but hopefully not Caine. I had a far more pleasurable plan of waking for him …
Naked from top to toe, I straddled Caine while he still lay in dreamland. It was early in the morning, the sun had just come up, and I intended to make something else come up to say hello. I grinned to myself, desire tingling between my legs, as I gently pushed the hem of Caine’s T-shirt up to reveal his hard abs.
I stroked his skin lightly with my fingertips and watched his stomach jerk. I pushed the shirt up as far as I could and bent over to lick his nipple. From there I licked the other, scraping my teeth lightly over it, before moving downward, brushing my lips over his skin, inhaling the familiar scent of him, tasting him.
His dick grew hard against my ass.
Bingo.
Looking up at him, I saw his eyes were still closed but the color was rising in his cheeks and he was moving slightly, a little restless beneath me.
Feeling mischievous and wicked, I brushed my ass over his erection as I moved downward, and had to squeeze my eyes shut against the lust that shot through me at the feel of his hard-on between my legs. I fought for patience, resisting the urge to wake him, pull down his pajama bottoms, and slide him inside me. Instead I tugged down his bottoms and underwear so his cock sprang out. I took him into my mouth, growing increasingly wet at the groans it elicited from him.
For a few seconds I toyed with him, running my tongue down the underside before swirling it around the sensitive rim. Caine began to jerk his hips upward, forcing him farther into my mouth.
I sucked hard.
“Lexie,” I heard his surprised gasp, and looked up at him from under my lashes. Caine was awake now and straining against me. “Lex.” His sleepy, aroused voice was such a turn-on. “Baby …”