He walks to me, taking me into his embrace, and his touch sends heat directly to my center, turning me molten. I see the corner of his lip raise into a grin, and it literally makes my knees go weak.
“Does that make you hot? Do you want me to prove that you’re the only girl I’m fucking? I will. Right here on this desk, I’ll show you there hasn’t been anyone else.”
I need him to show me I’m the only one.
My hand moves to touch him. He’s practically bursting at the seams. I stroke his length through his pants, eliciting a groan from his lips. I’m feeling brave. I need to show him that he doesn’t need anyone else. I can be everything he needs.
“Do you like that, Drew? Do you want me on my knees?”
“God, yes. On your knees, Bailey.”
I drag my hands down his sides as I slowly drop to my knees in front of him. Looking up through my lashes, I lick my lips. Gradually, I pull the zipper down, allowing him to spring free from his confinements. I lean in and run my tongue along the tip. He moans, which only encourages me to go further.
When he’s done, he sighs in contentment. I take my mouth off him and gently wipe my lips.
“Come here.”
“No, tonight was for you. I have work to do.”
“Your work is up here now.” He quirks his eyebrow in confusion as to where I’m going.
“I know I’m not supposed to help downstairs, but Drew, I can’t leave Carter on his own without a backup bartender.” He chuckles at my defiance. “But later, I want to go over the sketches. Pencil me in.” I wink.
I stand on my feet and make my way out of the office. As the door opens, Monica is on the other side with her hand raised, ready to knock. I look back toward Drew and see he’s zipping his pants. He doesn’t even try to hide what we were just doing from Monica. It gives me a sense of possessiveness, but at the same time, I pity her. Up until his declaration, Monica was unaware of our relationship. I decide at this moment to give her the benefit of the doubt.
I turn back to Monica. “I’m sorry if you feel like I took him from you. I didn’t know you two had any sort of a relationship. I hope you can respect the fact that I’m with him now.”
I look back at Drew, smiling to show that I’m not concerned. As I make my way down the stairs, I hear the door close behind me and know that Monica is stalking in my direction. With nothing more to say to her, I keep walking. She doesn’t stop as she rushes past me and out the door. I feel bad, but he’s mine now. There’s no room for someone else in our relationship. She’ll find the right person someday.
38
Drew
This thing with Bailey is getting serious. Now we are officially in a relationship, and I’m out of my element.
After the shit with Monica tonight, I need Bailey to know how genuine I am about giving this relationship thing a try. With my focus entirely on her tonight, Monica is never mentioned again. Thank fuck.
I listen to Bailey breathe. It’s so melodic and peaceful. If I lie here and listen to her for a while, it might lull me to sleep as well.
“What are you doing, Mr. Lawson?”
I’m caught. “Just thinking. Go back to sleep.”
“What are you thinking about?”
What should I say? I’m not about to tell her because then I’d sound like a fucking pussy. So, I say the next thing that comes to mind. “I have dinner tonight at my mom’s, and I’m dreading it.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“My mother can be a bit much at times. I’ve been avoiding her.”
“I could go with you if that would help.”
I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t put her in that awkward position. My mother would eat her alive. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I feel her deflate beside me. Clearly, I’ve said the wrong thing. “Bailey, what’s going on in that head of yours?”
“I guess I’m just wondering what we are.”
“What we are?” I repeat.
“I’m not trying to put a label to it, Drew. I’m just not sure what’s going on. You told Monica I’m your girlfriend.”
“We are sleeping together.”
Wrong answer. She flies out of bed and begins throwing on her clothes.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“We’re sleeping together? So, I’m just like Monica?”
Oh fuck, here we go. “No, no. I just mean we’re not sleeping with anyone else. We’re exclusive in that sense.”
“Fabulous, so I’m your plaything then.”
It’s not a question. She’s throwing her skirt over her legs, and not gracefully, I might add.
“Stop, Bailey. We are exclusive, period. Do you want me to say you’re my girlfriend? Fine, you’re my girlfriend. Is that better?”