As the car takes us up, I remember what Sasha said about men paying women with sex. I said I liked Thor, but…
Yeah, Emmett…
If he offers me his body, is it like a retention bonus? To make sure I stay beyond the two-year mark?
“Are you going to quit?” Emmett asks suddenly.
Whaaat? Is he really reading my mind? Actually, he might’ve heard something from headhunters. He’s tight with some of them. Well, everyone is tight with headhunters. Have to be, in this business. But that doesn’t make any sense because I told all my headhunters to be discreet, and they’re generally good about that sort of thing.
This is confusing. Wonder if he read my thought about the “retention bonus”…?
If he did, and he offers…should I go for it?
A wild and uninhibited voice inside me screams, “Yes!” And to be honest, I’m curious about whether Emmett was so amazing last night in the office because I wasn’t myself. I’m slightly drunk at the moment, okay, but not too drunk to realize what Sasha said this morning is correct. There is this crazy, uncontrollable thing between me and Emmett. I just don’t know what I’m going to do about it, and the indecision is killing me. I like to make a firm plan and stick to it.
The moment the door opens onto the seventh floor, we spill into the hallway. I lead him to my unit at the end—seven-oh-seven. I unlock the door and turn around in what I’m sure is an extremely seductive manner. “Come on in, the coffee’s fine. A-hahaha.”
“Uh-huh. You sure you want this?” Emmett’s eyes search mine.
He’s standing so close, his body emitting so much delicious heat. He smells good, all male and a hint of the whiskey he had at the bar. I want to lean closer and bury my nose against his chest, feel his heart beat against my cheek.
“Don’t know, do ya?” Actually, I want to know if he’s going to taste like the whiskey. Or something else.
He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m going to regret this.”
I grin. It’s funny he thinks that. I think so, too!
He cups my face. “You’re entirely too drunk, but I want to kiss you.”
“I’m not,” I say. My logical side whispers that something about the current situation—Emmett cradling my cheeks like I’m something precious and desirable—is wrong. His mouth is so close. It’s full and soft, and looks unbelievably yummy.
So I kick away my logic for the second night in a row.
Chapter Twelve
Emmett
As predicted, I regret the moment I said, “I want to kiss you.” Not because I don’t want to kiss Amy—I do. But because she’s drunk. Utterly, adorably drunk.
And no mat
ter how much I want her, I simply can’t take advantage when she can barely stand straight.
Still, I don’t mind being with her, indulging her drunk chatter. The more she drinks, the more she verbalizes her internal monologue. After her fourth cosmopolitan, she started saying basically everything that popped into her head.
So I know she thinks I’m hot. She also said I’m an asshole, but that isn’t important. The key is focusing on the right things, because that’s how dynasties are built.
Of course, I also noticed how she said something about quitting soon, but then suddenly she’s all over me and her mouth is on mine.
Jesus. She tastes sweet, like all the cocktails she had. More important, she feels like all the hot fantasies that have been monopolizing my mind since the moment I laid eyes on her.
Her tongue flicks my lips. All the blood in my body seems to rush to my dick. Need thrums in my gut, ready to spin out of control.
She fists her hands in my shirt. All I have to do is take what she’s offering. And it’d be so easy: just ignore that she’s drunk and I’m sober.
Screw it. She wants it. You want it.
But that just wouldn’t…