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Mile High: Special Edition (Windy City #1)(113)

Author:Liz Tomforde

“The amount of attention you get is overwhelming,” I mutter under my breath.

He tucks my messy curls away from my face before shooting me an apologetic smile. “I know.”

I shyly smile right back at him without saying another word because there really is nothing else to say about it. It’s who he is.

“For the first time, maybe ever, I wish no one knew who I was.” He grazes his fingertips along my bare back. “But, Stevie, just because we’re keeping it quiet doesn’t mean I don’t want people to know about you. If it weren’t for your job or my fucking contract resigning, I wouldn’t shut up about you.”

I hide my stupid giddy smile in his chest.

“So don’t think for a second I’m keeping this quiet for any other reason than that.”

There’s a hidden meaning behind the words he’s saying, and I pick up on it right away, so I lean up and kiss him for that.

“I like having you in my bed.”

“I like being here.” I check the clock on his nightstand, letting me know that I’m going to be late for the video call scheduled for my dad’s birthday. “But I need to get going.”

I push my naked body off him, but he grabs me, keeping me in place. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. New rule. You’re not allowed to run away from me anymore.”

“I’m not. But I need to get home so I can call my dad.”

“Your phone is here. Call him here.”

“I need my laptop. It’s a three-way call with Ryan too.”

“I have a computer, Vee. Stay here. Please.” His tone is pleading, his eyes are begging, and I’ve never seen this arrogant man so desperate and needy. In fact, I have to keep myself from laughing at this unexpected side of him.

“Okay.” I melt back into his body. “I’ll stay.”

He takes two handfuls of my ass, pushing me into him. “Morning sex and breakfast.”

“Breakfast, yes.” I pat his chest, getting off him before starting something I don’t have time to finish. “Morning sex, no. I don’t have time.”

“I’ll be quick.”

A condescending laugh escapes me. Something tells me there’s nothing quick about the way Zanders fucks. Even when it’s “quick,” it’s most likely detailed and comprehensive, making sure every part of my body would be given his full attention.

And any other time, I wouldn’t dare complain, but Ryan is on the East Coast for work, and we need to get this call going before his morning shootaround.

“Fine,” he resigns. “Afternoon sex, then.” We both climb off the bed, his flawless tatted body pulling mine in, my back to his chest. “I bought you some clothes yesterday. They’re in the bottom drawer for you. Or if you’d rather wear something of mine, you can take anything you want.”

He places a soft kiss on my bare shoulder before quickly pulling on a pair of sweatpants. But before he leaves me alone in his room, one large hand lands firmly on my ass.

“For fuck’s sake, Vee.” He throws his head back in defeat before heading towards the kitchen. “Your ass is insane!”

Alone in his room, the realization begins to sink in. Did that really happen last night? My head is light and dizzy, and my chest feels like it’s filled with air, ready to pop. It’s as if I’m floating around, and my feet can’t touch the ground, but in the best way possible.

In the most amazing way possible.

I really like Zanders, and that’s terrifying. But being scared feels a lot better than not giving in to what I want.

Opening the bottom drawer of Zanders’ oversized dresser, I find multiple pairs of sweatpants, leggings, and cotton shorts. A few different sweatshirts, some with hoods, some without. A plethora of Tshirts and flannels, but the thing that every single one of these articles of clothing has in common is that they’re brand new with tags still attached.

It’s thoughtful as hell and not because he spent money on me. Zanders throws money around like it’s nobody’s business. But because he bought everything in about five different sizes. There are pants in here that I could never squeeze into in a million years, yet there are some that would be so big I’d be swimming in them. But the point is, he went out of his way not to guess my size and get it wrong. It’s happened to me before, and that shit is embarrassing. Instead, he got every size across the spectrum so I could pick what I feel most comfortable in.

It reminds me of the Christmas gift he got me. Three pairs of sweatpants in three different sizes. And the more I get to know Zanders, the more intentional I realize that was.