12. Merrick
12
MERRICK
I hadn’t meant for things to escalate so quickly between Wren and me in my office. Sure, I wanted to tease her— taunt her— but the second she’d stabbed her finger into my chest, all bets were off.
The rise and fall of her chest, the flush of her cheeks, and that sassy fucking tone had been too much.
I’d wanted to strip her down right there, lick every inch of her beautiful body, and watch her come apart on my tongue.
The thought has my dick punching at my zipper as I navigate the darkened roads to my rental, the bags of takeout sitting on my passenger seat. Headlights shine in my rearview mirror as I take the final turn into the driveway and kill the engine, my heart racing in my chest as she parks next to me, her overhead light coming on as she opens her door.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
Grabbing all the bags, I meet her at the bottom step of the porch and nod toward the door. “After you.”
“You’ve already had me pinned to the wall; I don’t think you’re much of a gentleman tonight.” The words are a tease, her hips swaying as she climbs up the steps and waits for me.
Pausing, I shuffle everything to one hand and grip the back of her neck with the other, slanting my mouth over hers and kissing her.
Slow and sensual, almost lazy, I take my time tasting her.
“Make no mistake, I want you, Wren.” Leaning back, I let her see my eyes, see the sincerity in them, as I drag my thumb over her swollen bottom lip. “But I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“I don’t know what I want.”
I nod, taking a step back then unlocking the door and pushing it open for her. The house is big but not overly so. Massive beams accentuate the height of the ceilings, the stone fireplace the focal point just past the open kitchen.
“You don’t seem impressed,” I comment as I drop everything onto the counter, removing my shoes and jacket as she does the same.
“A lot of the properties are like this, Merrick. You don’t come to Montana for the house; you come for the view.” She shrugs. “At least you do if you’re really here for the land.”
“It’s very different from my view in New York,” I concede.
“And which do you prefer?”
The one standing in front of me.
“I like them both for different reasons. Can I get you a drink? Wine? Beer? Whiskey?”
“Whiskey is fine.”
My lips twitch as I move to the bar and fill our drinks, surprised to find her pulling silverware from the drawer, our dinners set out on the counter.
“Let’s sit at the table.”
“Awfully formal, isn’t it?”
“Might be the only time it gets used,” I admit and she laughs, the sound surprised and sexy all at once.
“Fine, but I still have questions.”
“I have nothing to hide.”
She stares at me as I take a seat at the head of the farm-style table, as she takes the one immediately to my left.
“Do you like Montana?”
“It’s not Colorado but it’s fine. I haven’t really given myself the time to settle in here. Most of the time we’re jumping from one location to the next,” I tell her, pausing to take a sip of my drink, “so it’s easier to just stay focused on the work.”
“But you like New York the best?”
“It’s where I grew up.” Chuckling, I add, “I didn’t really understand how expansive the countryside could be—what the sky looks like without all the light pollution. Honestly, the quiet is the only thing I haven’t gotten used to yet.”
“I’d be miserable in the city. I’d like to travel more, but this is home for me.”
“It’s nice to know where that is for you.”
“Are you saying you don’t have a home, Mr. Ellis?” she asks, her sock-clad foot running up my calf.
“I’m saying that I’ve never had the need to put down roots. Home to me is where I am in the moment.”
“And what about this moment?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” I admit, her touch sending shockwaves through my veins. “I’d love to tell you I have a plan, but I haven’t gotten that far.”
“Holly was quick to flaunt your supposed relationship. I don’t know if she told anyone else, but…”
“Nothing happened.”
“I heard you.”
“It sounded like you needed me to say it again.”
She huffs and rolls her eyes, the action so juvenile, and it makes her seem every bit her twenty-six years. It’s the first time I’ve thought about it and the fact that I’m almost a decade older than she is.
“Whatever happens, Wren, is between us.”
“A secret?”
The way she asks the question makes it hard to know what she’s thinking, but I know my answer determines what happens next.
“I won’t pretend this isn’t complicated. A secret? No. I’m not ashamed of wanting you, but I think it’s best to keep this private. I don’t want this,”—I motion between us—“whatever you decide, to create a riff at work.”
“And my proposal?”
“Do you want me to tell you how brilliant it was? Is that what you’re looking for?” I tease, wrapping my hand around her ankle to pull her toward me, her chair sliding against the floor.
“You wanted to fight me on it.”
“No, Hellcat, you wanted to fight,” I murmur, my fingers digging into the back of her calf. “I told you I had priorities—things that had to be handled first.”
“I don’t want anyone to think you’re approving it just because we can’t keep our hands off each other.”
“You’re well respected by your coworkers and clients, and I would never do anything to jeopardize that.” She sighs as I lift her other leg onto my lap, my hands kneading at the muscles, the strangest need to take care of her humming in my veins.
“Is it worth it?” she asks, the way she says it making it sound like she didn’t mean for the question to be out loud.
“I know you are.” Drawing small circles with my thumbs along the inside of her knees, I push my luck, moving my palms up to her thighs, my cock stirring as her lips part on an almost silent moan.
“You’re not?”
“That’s for you to decide. I’m almost ten years older than you, Wren. I don’t play games.”
“God, I didn’t know you were that old,” she taunts, leaning forward so my hands are forced to slide up to her hips as she shimmies her way onto my lap, her legs straddling me.
“Wren.”
“Not a secret.”
“I just want to protect you.”
“You really think I’m the one that needs protecting?” she murmurs as she kisses the underside of my jaw, her fingers unknotting my tie before moving to the buttons on my shirt.
Chuffing out a laugh, I palm her ass as I try to keep myself in check. “No. I believe you’d burn my life to the ground. I’m talking about everyone else.”
“Guess you can be a gentleman.”
“You have about three seconds until I’m not.”
Her hands rip open my shirt, the last few buttons pinging across the floor, her eyes wild when they meet mine. “Time’s up.”