“I feel like a shower.” I melt my hips against his. “And then maybe some Thai?”
He digs his phone out of his pocket with one hand while reaching around to grab my ass with the other. “Good call. Lemme order real quick, then I’ll show you where my shower is. We’re in luck, it’s bigger than the one in the Mariposa Suite.”
“I don’t need bigger.” I reach between us to grip the erection he’s sprung. “I just need you.”
Even though Theo dropped me off at my place at six this morning, my bag packed with freshly laundered and carefully folded clothes, we still somehow arrive on the trading floor at exactly the same time. I nearly drop my latte when I see him waiting for the elevator in the lobby. I still like him better in jeans and a tee, but he looks like a snack today: pressed slacks, alligator belt, white button-up with the sleeves already rolled to his elbows.
I notice that he did, however, keep his Santa Barbara stubble. He just trimmed it a bit, neatened it up. That, combined with the hair still wet from the shower and the bare forearms—whew, I’m salivating, and at the same time my heart is tripping inside my chest. Did he keep the stubble as an inside joke? A shared secret meant to signal he’s very much enjoying the growing connection between us? I’ve read too much into shit like this before.
“Morgan,” I say, coming to stand beside him.
He glances at me, gaze sliding over my skirt and top before he slips his hands into his pockets. “Frasier.”
“Nice beard.”
His lips twitch, and my heart full-on stumbles. The beard does mean something. “Trying something new. Do you like it?”
So much I’m struggling not to hump you right now. “It’s okay.”
“Just okay?” he frowns. “Not exactly a glowing endorsement.”
“It’s better than before,” I say, biting my bottom lip to keep from grinning. His gaze flicks to my mouth and he catches it, he sees it—the grin that wants to break free.
“I’ll keep it, then.”
“You should.”
The elevator doors slide open and he holds out an arm, keeping them back. “After you.”
I feel his eyes follow me as I step inside. Before, the acute self-awareness would have me cringing inside. But this morning, it just makes me feel looked after. Tended to.
Admired.
This is supposed to be harder. I was expecting the experience of coming back to the office after a weekend spent naked with Theo to be a career killer at worst, awkward at best. We didn’t get to talk much last night between all the showering and the oral and the pad thai. Even if we did, I’m still figuring out if it’s worth the risk to actually date Theo, and if it is, what the right call is when it comes to our work situation.
I don’t have answers to those questions yet. I don’t think Theo does either. And yeah, some mean, small part of me is still afraid he’s using me. That he’s toying with my head so I’ll do something stupid and he’ll get the promotion. Maybe he’s just using me for sex.
But looking at him, hands balled into fists inside his slacks, none of that seems right. Maybe navigating our reentry into the real world feels easy because it is. We’ve learned things about each other, things that changed our perceptions and challenged our prejudices, and now there’s a good bit of mutual respect between us. We know each other in ways few others do, which makes this—riding an elevator up to the trading floor together—feel like a cakewalk.
The doors close. It’s just the two of us inside the elevator.
“You look beautiful,” Theo murmurs, keeping his eyes trained on his feet. That muscle in his jaw is ticking.
We had sex less than two hours ago. How am I already getting this turned on again?
“The beard is . . . just. Yeah. So good, Theo.”
“I want you to ride it later.”
The doors glide open. “I’ll be there.”
“Good.” He holds out his arm, allowing me to pass first. “I have a feeling we’re looking at an especially bullish market this week. I hope you’re prepared, Frasier.”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Bring it on, Morgan.”
Nicky looks up in awe as Theo and I approach the desk. “Hey, y’all. Everything . . . okay?”
I set down my latte on my desk. “Fine. Why?”
“You just look—”
“Happy,” Brooks says with a frown. “It’s weird.”
“Wouldn’t you be thrilled if you just saved your relationship with your most important client?” Theo plops down in front of his screens. “Nora pulled a fucking miracle out in California. If I were her, I’d be smiling ear to ear.”
I look down so Nicky and Brooks don’t see that I am, in fact, smiling that hard.
“Nice job, Nora,” Nicky says, holding out knuckles over his tower. “Masterclass in salesmanship, as always.”