I wince, loosening my hold on her for a moment. “Margo I—”
“Let me finish,” she snaps. “But that was after I snuck into the shower and touched myself thinking about…”
“Thinking about what?"
“Not what, but who…”
My chest squeezes. I hate it, knowing this woman has more of an effect on me than anyone has before. And more of one than anyone will ever be able to have again. “I’m hanging on by a thin thread here. Stop being vague. Who did you touch yourself thinking about?” I let the tip of my finger brush against the sensitive flesh between her legs.
She moans. “You, Beck. Not Carter, not anyone else. It was just you.”
Her body molds into mine in pleasure as I inch my finger in her as a reward for the truth. “It could’ve been me doing it, Violet, if you hadn’t gone back to him.”
“I never told anyone else that,” she confesses, wriggling against me as I remind her who exactly makes her lose control like this. “I never really even admitted it to myself,” she continues.
“Oh, but you’ve told me. And now I won’t ever let you forget it.”
“Beck,” she moans as I coax two fingers inside her.
“It should’ve been me that took care of you that night. Not my selfish brother who couldn’t get the fucking job done. And not you, either. It should’ve been me. You denied yourself and me by walking away.”
My thumb presses into her clit. “I couldn’t—”
I nod, my chin hitting her shoulder. “I know, baby. That’s why I didn’t blame you for it. But I couldn’t stay there any longer knowing he had you.”
“That’s why you left…” Whatever else she was going to say gets lost in the bliss of her orgasm. Her moans are loud, echoing off the small space of the bathroom.
I rub her until her fingers wrap around my wrist, stopping me. I place a kiss to the back of her neck, needing the connection. “Yes, that’s why I left unexpectedly that morning. I’d blamed it on a meeting, but the reality was, I didn’t want to see you with him. It was past that I didn’t want to see you with him, it was more that I couldn’t without feeling sick.”
She spins around again, taking my face between her hands. The gesture seems far more meaningful than anything between us before. It doesn’t feel fake or out of lust. It feels real, and the thought disarms me.
“Never again,” she promises.
I smirk, mimicking the way she holds my face by placing both my hands at her cheeks. “Well, that part is fucking obvious.”
She giggles, shaking her head at me. I lean in, playfully nipping at the tip of her nose. She squirms on top of me, the movement sending another round of bubbles and water over the edge of the tub. Then I emphasize my words by kissing the woman who has found a place in my heart, wondering in the back of my mind how long I’ll get to keep her.
Beck stands in front of the hotel room phone with a towel precariously wrapped around his waist. With one small tug I’d be met with the sight of every perfect inch of him. I smile at the thought, knowing how easy it would be to strip him completely and let him have his way with me all over again.
“Stop staring at me like that,” he warns, the phone pressed to his ear.
I bite my lip, shaking my head at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He grunts, gesturing to the bed in the middle of the room. “You’re eye fucking the hell out of me. If you aren’t careful, I’ll end this call right now and fuck you on top of the sheets I’m trying to replace.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up a finger. “Oh hi,” he begins, clearing his throat. “Uh yes, we do need new sheets.”
My eyes bug as I realize whoever is on the other line with him definitely heard the threat he just gave me. I know I should be embarrassed, but instead I find it hilarious that Beck is clearly uncomfortable talking to whoever answered. His pale cheeks fill with color, something I haven’t seen before.
I have to stifle a giggle as he places the phone back on its station. When he looks at me with a menacing grin, I know I’m in trouble.
“You find that funny?” he taunts, taking a step closer to me. I take a step backwards, trying to escape the wrath in his eyes. The plush hotel robe is way too long on me, causing me to almost trip over my feet with the backwards movement.
I shake my head at him, hating that my lips betray me by curing up in a smile. “Nope,” I answer, popping the P for dramatics.
He raises his eyebrows, adjusting the towel on his waist. “You’re lying,” he drawls.
My calves hit the back of a chaise lounge, giving me no place else to go. He knows I’m cornered by the Cheshire cat grin on his face. “Do you find it amusing that a poor old woman just heard me threaten to fuck you?”
“I mean, she probably would have gathered anyway when you asked for new sheets.”
He hums, closing the distance between us and pulling me toward him by the lapels of my robe. “You have a point there, Miss Moretti.”
Standing on my tiptoes, I loop my arms around his neck. He smells delicious. The vanilla and sage soap the hotel provided is a scent I’ve become obsessed with. “Soon to be Mrs. Sinclair,” the words fall from my mouth before I can think better of them. The moment they’re out, I wonder if I’ve said too much. “You know, with our agreement and everything. I didn’t know if it was now time for that,” I add last minute, internally wishing I would’ve just kept my mouth shut.
Now that we’ve slept together, I don’t know what it means for our arrangement. I’d imagine it’s still on, but things do seem more…complicated now.
“I’m the one who mentioned it to begin with. Tell me when and where and we’ll make it official.”
My heart flutters in my chest, something it shouldn’t be doing. While we may be intimate now, it doesn’t change the fact that our engagement will be a lie. When he says, “make it official,” it isn’t in a romantic way. At the end of the day, it’s a business arrangement for him, and I need to keep reminding my heart of that fact.
I run my fingers over the hard planes of his muscles. For the time being, all of this is mine. We’d also come to that agreement. We’d have each other and nobody else for the year while we pretended to be in love. It’ll undoubtedly hurt at the end of this when we stop pretending, but it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy him for as long as I have him.
Any amount of time I can have Beck looking at me the way he is right now will have to be enough for me. Women would kill to have one night with him. I get an entire year.
“You did say people would believe us after a month of me working for you…”
His hands drift underneath my robe, running over my ass. “Are you saying you’ll be my fiancée?”
“I’m saying whenever you decide to ask, I’ll say yes. Don’t forget I want a big ass ring Mr. Sinclair. It has to be believable, of course.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. The gesture makes me feel warm all over. He’s so commanding and scary at work, when he does soft things like kiss the tip of my nose or run his thumb along the top of my hand, I can almost convince myself that this isn’t all just for show. That we did develop feelings while working with each other, and that none of this is pretend. That everything between us is raw and real.