Lonely.
And not where I want to sleep, unless she’s tangled in the bedsheets beside me. But we’ve agreed that we’re better off as boss and employee. She’s good with Amelia, and I can’t risk losing her.
At least this way I see her every day, even if I don’t spend any time with her, barely speak to her, and find myself in desperate need of a cold shower.
“Since when are you the one in charge?” I lock eyes with her. I rest my hand on the doorframe, but I don’t do what she wants.
“Well, I put your daughter to bed.” Clare shrugs, and her cheeks redden. “I suppose it’s no different putting a grown man to bed.”
I groan at her remark. That’s not what I want, her sending me to my bedroom. “Are you going to tuck me in?” I ask, my voice raspy. I shouldn’t be tempted to flirt with her. This went down in the worst way the last time we fell into bed together in Paris.
“Levi.” Her tone holds a no-nonsense warning, but her cheeks are flaming.
The T-shirt that hugs her body is too long. I wish I could steal a peek at her panties. Is she wearing the red lacy ones that she accused me of stealing? What I wouldn’t give to let my fingers trail along the juncture of her thigh and up over the material.
She would be wet for me.
Her pussy swollen, and her clit begging to be touched.
“It’s a fair question. You tuck my daughter into bed every night,” I say, and she glances down, avoiding my stare.
I don’t accept her silence. My fingers guide her chin up to face me, one hand in her hair, bringing her lips closer.
“I’ve wanted you since that stupid fight,” I say, breathless.
The tension builds and burns. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. “Have you? You could have any girl, Levi. I don’t believe that you want me.”
“Believe it,” I growl, and pull her tighter, letting her feel my cock as it strains against my trousers. “I’ve wanted you since the moment you were in that purple see-through bra and never stopped wanting you. Hell, I wanted you before that incident.”
“When I nearly got you arrested?” she jokes.
I’m not smiling, but I raise an inquisitive eyebrow. “No, since you helped bathe Amelia and got soaked in the process. You were damn fine then, and you’re even sexier now that I know the real you.”
“The real me?” she whispers.
“You hide behind your insecurities, but you’re gorgeous, funny, great with Amelia, and would do anything for my daughter. Hell, I gave you money to spend on yourself, and you went and spent it on toys and books for Amelia. I don’t know anyone else who would have done that. You’re generous and kind, even though you’re stubborn and always have to be right.”
“Your flattery will get you nowhere,” Clare says as she sighs. “You hurt me when you accused me of being a gold digger.”
I hadn’t used those exact words, but that had been the gist. “And I’m sorry.” I mean every word. “I will make it up to you for the rest of my life, but we’re both to blame. You said some awful, hurtful words on the flight home.”
“I did,” Clare says, and glances down, her gaze on my lips. “I shouldn’t have said those things. They weren’t true. I was hurt and just wanted to retaliate. That wasn’t right of me or fair to you.”
“Are you sure there wasn’t a small modicum of truth?” I ask. “It’s okay if you didn’t feel like the sex between us wasn’t orgasmic. I mean, it’s been a while since I slept with a woman and it wasn’t solely about fucking her.”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” Clare whispers.
“We’ll do better.” I brush my lips tenderly against hers. “If it wasn’t good, I’ll read every book, watch every movie, take every class—”
The softness in her voice is gone. “What? The hell you will. You’re not doing any of those things without me.” Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me close, our lips close but not quite kissing yet.
She’s waiting, and I’m at about wit’s end with dragging out our kiss.
I want to fucking plant my lips on her and listen to her moans. We don’t have to jump back into bed. We can take things as slowly as she wants. As long as she’s mine.
I cover her lips with mine, hard and rough, my fingers in her hair, backing her up against the hardwood of the door.
She moans, the sound delightful. She tastes like honey and vanilla and she smells even more amazing. I want to drink her in, ravish her until we’re both desperate for air.