Chapter 27 #2
I’m ninety-percent sure I couldn’t handle more, no matter what he means by it.
He’s the distraction I didn’t know I needed, but I already rely on him for far too much.
I want to say no, I’m good. But now that Pet’s gotta find a new owner, I feel like I owe him more than a dismissal. Plus, I might need slightly more.
“Do you?” I ask.
“I need everything,” he says, parting my lips with his and sliding his tongue back inside me.
We kiss like that—with my hands pinned and him feeling me up until the water gets cool, and I’m shivering from the lack of heat and overstimulation.
“I need to get you dried off,” he sighs, letting my hands go.
I stretch my fingers and realize they’re numb.
Once I’m dry and out of the bathroom, I grab a black shirt and sweats from my dresser. It’s only five. I doubt he’s going to the club this early, but he looks like he’s heading out, buckling his belt as I’m pulling my drawstring.
I check my phone while he’s buttoning his shirt. Drew and Jericho both texted. Seeing their names prompts me to scroll a mile and open my text thread with Silas to see how long it’s been since we last spoke.
The date of his last text is from March. Four months ago. My last text was in May for the record, but he left it on read. It wasn’t much. Just checking in. Let me know if you want to grab a drink sometime. I guess I could have followed up better.
I do now, being more direct.
Are you working tonight?
To my surprise, the text immediately shows as read and his dots appear.
Silas
No but I have plans. What’s up?
I dodge that question.
When are you free?
What do you have in mind?
Typical Silas. I grin because difficult people are my favorite kind.
Drinks, lunch, dinner, clubbing—whatever you have time for tomorrow.
Silas
Tomorrow? Did you suddenly remember you miss me or something?
I did before you did.
Yeah, I can do tomorrow, but absolutely no to clubbing.
Happy hour?
Pretty sure they don’t do those on Saturdays.
You get the idea.
Happy hour sounds good. You still at Gramercy?
Almost 24-7.
If you want a break from the UES, come down to Chelsea. There’s a tapas place by my apartment that’s pretty cheap and the drinks are decent.
My apartment. Maybe he’s not as involved with the senator as it seems? There’s more than one apartment in Chelsea after all, and surely if they were living together he would have called it “ours.” Or maybe not. I was never quiet about how I felt about him and Graham Lawther.
It’s going to be tough if I expect him to open up about it, but I plan on striking a less judgmental tone this time, now that I’m sleeping with a married man, too.
“Who are you texting?” Gibson asks.
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Is that your business?”
His lips purse as he shoves his wet hair out of his face, averting his gaze. “Don’t mind me. I was just leaving.”
“It’s Silas,” I say.
“How difficult was that?”
“I’m just fucking with you.”
“Maybe now’s not a good time.”
I set my phone down and get to him as he’s reaching for the door latch. I touch his back. “It’s rude to leave without saying goodbye.”
“I don’t know how to,” he grumbles.
“Which compartment are we in right now?” I ask.
“They’re all sort of running together for me.”
I slide in front of him and put my hands on his waist. “You don’t have to go,” I tell him, and then I see the look on his face.
It makes me swallow hard, and all thoughts of teasing him go out the window.
His worry lines are firmly in place, and his jaw is tense.
His gaze flickers with uncertainty, and I don’t like that I might have something to do with it. “If you’re not ready to.”
His hands encircle my wrists like he intends to remove them, but he hesitates and runs his hands up my forearms instead. I take the opening and pull him into a hug. He lets out a long sigh once our bodies connect. “Mmm…”
I shut my eyes and try to enjoy what this is without wanting it to be more. There’s an addictive quality to him—a magnetism I’ve become a victim of.
“Thank you for this afternoon,” he says.
“Did you have a good time?”
He nods.
“You feel any better?” I ask.
“I feel a lot of things. Not sure better is how I’d describe it.”
“I’ll come up later,” I tell him.
“Yeah?” I can feel at least a pound of tension leaving him as he asks.
“Unless you’re planning on making me wear kitten ears.”
He huffs a laugh, and his warm breath on my neck sends a shiver down my spine. “You’d look good in a collar, though.”
“Do you care if they know you’re fucking a man?” I wonder aloud.
“No,” he says. “I don’t care what anybody knows about anything. Fucking my assistant with impunity included.”
“Not to mention your doorman. They all recognize me, you know?”
“I do, and you’re a favorite.”
I pull my head back to look at him without lowering my arms. “Of whose?”
He grins softly. “You don’t see yourself at all, do you?”
“Blonde hair, blue eyes, a buck seventy. What’s to see?”
“Radiance.”
I shake my head slowly, keeping his eye contact now that I’ve got it back. “I mean, I’ll take it.”
He gives me a peck on the mouth. “Wear something sexy for me.”
I smile, leaning in to press my nose to his. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”