“You have a cleaning service coming in the morning,” I say and smile darkly. “You’re paying her a grand—cash—for eight hours of work, whatever she gets done in that time.”
Karl has the decency to hang his head and slouches all the way to the car.
“I can’t believe you didn’t think to hire maids when you moved in,” I say almost as an afterthought.
“I did,” Karl whines. “They all quit.”
I snicker and look up at Bren.
“I’m not looking forward to Addy as a teenager,” I say and laugh when Bren’s eyes snap down to inspect his daughter.
“Why’d you have to make my day worse?” he asks.
THIRTY-SIX
Sofia
“I’m sorry I can’t take you out on a proper date,” Bren says when we get back to his penthouse after dropping Addy off at Ileana’s for the evening.
We decide we needed some alone time, a proper date.
“This is life with a baby,” I say.
“This is life with a band,” he counters.
I press my hand to his chest. “Your band is your first baby.”
He holds my hand over his chest and caresses the length of my jaw with his index finger. “You understand me, Sofia.”
“Because we’re the same,” I breathe out. “Industrial Novemberis your first child, your first commitment. Mine isLa Oficina.”
His head dips down to kiss me gently, tenderly, slowly. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth, playing with it on the tip of his tongue. This is so different from the kisses I’ve known from Bren. This kiss is all emotion and tenderness.
When he pulls away, he’s smiling.
“What?” I ask.
He eyes me up and down approvingly, and I return the favor. The dark denim and muscle-hugging, ribbed, long-sleeved shirt he has picked out leave him looking like sex on a stick.
Taking my hand in his, he leads me to the bedroom, where he proceeds to slide down the spaghetti straps of my A-line, emerald-green dress. As he does this, the pads of his fingers draw down the bare skin of my arms.
“Bren.” I say his name without thinking, and his eyes lock on mine.
“I want you, Sofia,” he says.
I swallow at the sound of that world-famous voice of his, husky with his arousal. “I want you too,” I say.
It’s been so long since I’ve had Bren; my instincts are to tear his clothes off and fuck—like we always do—with abandon like animals.
But there’s something there, in Bren’s eye, something flickering in his irises that I don’t recognize. It’s not the primal glare I’m at the receiving end of when he wants to fuck me—it’s sweeter than that. His hands move slowly over my body as he wraps his arms around me to unzip my dress, and I gasp, every sensation charged tenfold. It’s been so long.
When my dress pools at my feet, revealing my naked body because I decided to go bare under the dress, Bren steps back to take me in.
He smiles and groans, bringing his thumb to rub his lower lip. “Fuck, Sofia.”
I step forward as slowly as he’s moved since we walked into the room, letting him set the pace for tonight and doing my best to tame my hurried and desperate impulses.
I peel off his shirt and unbuckle his belt to help him out of his jeans. God, I’ve missed the sight of this naked body.