“What?” I say breathlessly, my hand pressed to my racing heart. “No. No, you don’t sound ridiculous. You’ve done something to me, too—”
My words are interrupted by a loud knock in the background.
“Goddammit,” says Gunner. “That’s my eleven o’clock meeting.” His voice lowers to a rasp. “You’ll be here at lunchtime?”
“Of course.”
“Thank God. I’m sending a car.”
We hang up and all I can do for several seconds is stare straight ahead, processing everything that just occurred. Everything Gunner said. And then I’m launching myself up off the bed with a squeal and turning in wild circles, arms thrown out at my sides.
It’s starting to happen.
His feelings are beginning to match mine.
I’m his sugar baby, he’s my sugar daddy…but we can be more.
This is proof that he’s starting to want something real with me.
With a happy pinch in my throat, I rush to my closet to find the right outfit for visiting…my future boyfriend? At his office. Something sexy, but shows maturity. Something a wife would wear to have a respectable lunch with her husband, while still wanting to make him salivate. When I spy the black, skintight pencil skirt, I take it off the hanger and match it with black stilettos. A silk, champagne-colored crop top that tucks into the high waisted skirt.
Meeting my eyes in the full-length mirror, I’m surprised to find that, despite my happiness and excitement over the recent developments with Gunner, there’s a line of concern between my brows. Immediately, I know it’s my guilt beginning to weigh on me. Gunner has been so open with me, especially just now on the phone, but I’m keeping important secrets from him? No. I can’t do it anymore. Today, I’ll come clean about everything. My father being broke, the truth behind the email he was sent, my feelings for him.
I’m going to lay all of my cards out on the table.
* * *
Gunner has an armed guard meet me downstairs in the lobby this time.
I’m escorted upstairs and no one is allowed into the elevator with me.
I know he’s just ensuring my safety, but I wonder if he’s aware of how hot it makes me all over, how coveted his protectiveness makes me feel. I’m all but melted against the wall of the elevator, fanning my fevered skin. For someone who claims he wants to see me for more than just sex, he is really trying to get attacked.
We arrive on the top floor and I follow the guard through a sea of curiosity, the traders and market analysts looking up from their desks to watch me walk to their boss’s office. Remembering Gunner’s directive from last time, I don’t make eye contact with any of them, wanting him to be pleased with me.
Wanting to be a good girl from the man who is so good to me.
The guard opens the door for me and I step into the crisp, dark interior of Gunner’s space, the fire crackling straight ahead, his desk to the left. And looking at him, I can tell immediately the eleven o’clock meeting didn’t go like he wanted. His shoulders are all bunched up and he’s frowning at the computer screen, hands balled in fists on the surface of his desk.
But all of that stress visibly melts away when he sees me.
“Josie,” he mouths, pushing back from his desk and standing. “Jesus. Come here.”
I don’t hesitate. I set down my oversized bag containing his lunch and my course paperwork, crossing the floor and walking straight into his arms. Moaning when his hard mouth stamps down over mine, his tongue invading the hollow of my mouth and stroking in, out, in deeper. Our bodies mold together as if magnetized, his hands groping for my ass, lifting me roughly against his growing erection. So good. So perfect, but if we keep this up, I’m going to be bent over the desk within a minute—and I would love every single second. Both of us would. But my heart came here hoping for more. I think Gunner needs more than our physical connection, too, so when the kiss is finished and we break for air, I give him a solemn look and start to loosen his tie.
“I don’t like seeing you so stressed, Papa,” I pout, taking his big hand and guiding him to the desk, pushing him back into his chair. I remove his tie completely, dropping it into a silk pile beside his keyboard, flicking open his top button. With a serious sniff, I collect my bag from the other side of the room and turn, laying out what I brought. “This sandwich has all the vitamin C and magnesium vegetables to help you de-stress.”
He looks dubious. “A vegetarian sandwich?”
“Don’t knock it until you try it. And before you assume I’m putting you on a diet—I am certainty not, I love every sexy inch of you—there is a giant dark chocolate bar in here, too. Also good for destressing.” I trail a finger across his shoulder while circling around the back of him, digging my thumbs into his muscles in a slow, relaxing massage. “Get started. I’ll just be back here making sure my favorite man is taken care of.”