“You’re putting words in my mouth,” I protest, my voice coming out high-pitched, too shrill, because damn him, he’s hitting far too close to the mark.
Why didn’t I just assume this was a one-off thing? Why, even after I thought he had a wife he’d been cheating on, did I continue to daydream about the way he touched me, the feeling of his cock inside me, driving me all the way to the edge?
My throat feels dry. I try to swallow.
“If it was just meaningless sex, you won’t mind hooking up again.” Lark smirks.
“So it was just meaningless to you, then?” I counter.
His eyes flash. “I never said that.”
“There you go, then.” I cross my arms. My lips are dry too, so I wet them, and his gaze drops, tracking the motion. Shit.
I expect him to make another move. I’m not entirely sure I could resist him this time, if he did. But he takes a step backward, lifting his palms in the air, mock surrender. “All right,” he says, surprising me. “If you don’t want to do this, then I’m not into persuading women they belong in my bed.”
A sharp pulse of desire sparks in my belly at those words. But I hold my ground, keep my mouth shut, because if I don’t, I’ll blurt out something stupid. Something I shouldn’t say.
“I’ll see you around,” Lark says. Then he winks. “Business partner.”
I don’t stop holding my breath until he disappears around the corner. Even then, the very idea of breathing feels dangerous. What have I gotten myself into?
5
Cassidy
The next couple of weeks are a whirlwind of work. Thank God, because any time that I stop working for long enough to think, he drifts into my mind.
Every night as I’m drifting off to sleep—or trying to—I start to picture him next to me in bed. The taste of his mouth. The way his lips felt gliding down my chest, his tongue on my nipple, my belly button, tracing from my navel all the way down to my mound. The feeling of his thick cock buried deep in my pussy; the waves of pleasure that hit me as he fucked me, his strong hands wrapped around my hips, hard everywhere I’m soft.
Fuck. I have it bad. Worse than I ever had it with any guy I’ve hooked up with before. Even with Norman, I was into him as a person, but he was lackluster in bed. More interested in getting himself off than making sure I was having fun.
At the time, I told myself that was just how all guys were. That it was fine. If, every night after we had sex, I had to roll over and finish myself with my own fingers, well, that was just how life had to be.
Then I met Lark.
Lark, who make me come more times in a single night than I would have thought possible. Lark, who wanted to keep seeing me, who would have stopped at nothing to have me again… Except I made him stop. I drove him off. And why? Because I didn’t want anything complicated?
What’s simple about me right now? I’m daydreaming about him every night, every time I’m alone in the shower, my hands wandering down my body to stroke my own clit until I’m gasping his name.
But at least work is a distraction.
I’ve had more than a few phone calls with Sheryl since our meeting. Every time I see the Anderson Investments number pop up on my phone, my heart climbs into my throat and my stomach does a little backflip. But it’s always her perky, no-nonsense voice on the other end.
“Now a good time?” she always begins our calls. Just like the one we had earlier today, where she asked for an update on the new line.
She wound up investing a lot, far more than I ever could have hoped for. Well, they wound up investing a lot, I guess, although I haven’t personally spoken to Lark since our one conversation outside the office building just after the investment meeting.
But she’s also very specific about which products she’d like me to develop first. “I think there’s a real market for the lengthening mascara you showed us and the eye color palettes—you’ve got a great eye for colors. And that way we can focus on one specific product set to start off, and expand into other products later.”
She always words everything in a super complimentary way. But it’s also the first time since I started my own line that I’ve had a boss of sorts—even if she’s not strictly my boss, she’s definitely calling the shots now. And while sometimes it’s reassuring to have another opinion to look for, another voice to rely on for the big decisions, at other times, like today, when I’ve got a great new idea for a lipstick color that I can’t play around with… well, it can be somewhat confining, creatively.