Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Nash
I grab my protein shake in one hand and the matcha in the other, walking up the steps toward the bedroom. The room’s still dark, so I know she’s probably still sleeping. Last night was not ideal for us both. I should have told her there was a possibility Emmy was going to be there, but to be honest, she was the furthest thing from my mind. The only time she crossed my mind was when I saw her, and the only thing then on my mind was making sure Zoey knew she was a thing of the past. Fuck, if anyone knew how she felt, it was me. Seeing her with her dickhead ex made me feel things I never wanted to feel again. Emmy was an afterthought, and I spent the whole night making sure Zoey knew that. Even when we got home, I wanted to make sure she knew how I felt about her. I secretly told her I was in love with her while staring into her eyes. It was the coward’s way out, but I didn’t want to push it on her.
When I get to the top of the stairs, I find her sitting up in bed with her phone in her hand, the top sheet across her chest, and I know she’s naked underneath it. “Good morning, baby.” I grin as I walk to her side of the bed, and she sits up even more, the sheet dropping and exposing her tits. I moan my appreciation, handing her the cup of matcha before bending down to kiss her lips at the same time, using my free hand to pinch her nipple.
“You’re going to make me spill my matcha.” She pretends to be irritated, but I can see her smirk trying not to come out.
“We don’t want you to spill your matcha.” I sit on the side of the bed and take a sip of my protein shake. “All that green shit in the bed, eww.” I shake my head as she giggles. “Why are you up?”
“Not sure. I just got up,” she answers, and I stare at her, knowing she is not sure of something, but always wondering if she’s going to bring it up. “I tried to doze back but figured it would mess me up more.”
“So you got up to watch more cat videos?” I put one hand over her legs and lean into her.
“No,” she lies to me, but I look down at her phone in her lap and see that I’m right. I raise my eyebrows as she flips over the phone. “Why don’t you go shower?” she says, and I nod at her and get up.
“Do you want to join me in the shower?” I ask, and she puts down her matcha tea.
“I wouldn’t mind a shower, but I don’t want to get my hair wet.”
I shake my head. “If you come in the shower, chances are your hair will get wet, even if I go down on you.”
“How is that?” She tosses the covers to the side and swings her legs off the bed, and my cock goes suddenly hard, like it always does for her. I’ve never been more attracted and in sync with a woman in my life. In. My. Life. For the rest of my life, I know sex with her will never, and I mean never, be dull.
“Well.” I wrap my hand around her waist, pulling her to me as she gets on her tippy-toes. “After I make you come with my tongue and my fingers, I usually like you to finish coming on my cock.”
“Okay.”
“And when I fuck you, it’s usually either against the wall or you riding me, which you then put your head back and your hair gets wet.”
She rolls her eyes. “Not every time.” I pick her up, not even bothering to have this fight with her. “There was that one time,” she counters as I carry her to the bathroom and place her down on the counter as I turn on the water in the shower, “that you bent me over, and only my back got wet.” She watches me peel my shirt off and then pull my boxers and gym shorts down as I kick off my shoes. Her eyes slowly go up and down, taking me all in. “I might get my hair wet,” she mumbles before I pick her up and take her in the shower with me. “I’ll give it a quick blow-dry.”
“I’d like you to give me a quick blow.” I wink at her as I bend and kiss her lips, my tongue sliding into her mouth at the same time as our hands reach out for each other. Her hand grabs my cock at the same time I slide my fingers through her slit and slip inside her.
“Then I guess it’s time to get on my knees,” she says as she moves down to suck my neck, the warm water running down my back.
Her fist pumps my cock. “Don’t let me stop you.” I watch her make her way down, kissing my chest, then her tongue comes out to slide down to my stomach, my abs contracting with her touch. My eyes never move from her until she swallows my cock, and my eyes shut. “Fuck, that’s good.” That’s the last thing I think I say until I come down her throat and return the favor. She gets out of the shower before me because her hair did, in fact, get wet, but not while I fucked her. It happened when she took my cock to the back of her throat.
“I’m not going to have time to make you breakfast,” she says as she blow-dries her hair.
"Unless you are okay with me toasting you a bagel?” I smile at her. I might wake her up in bed every single day with a matcha, but she makes me breakfast every single day.
“We can order something,” I tell her, and she turns off the blow-dryer to go and get her phone, handing it to me.
“What is this for?” I ask, leaning against the counter.
“For you to order breakfast,” she informs me, turning the blow-dryer back on, and I pfft out.
“I’m not using your phone.” I get my own phone, ordering us both something and her another matcha instead of making it for her again, as I pick a suit and get dressed. When we step out of the house, her matcha is there waiting for her, so I bend to pick it up.
“This is only because I let you wet my hair.” She grabs it in her hand, stepping out of the house and walking down the steps. The clicking of her nude sky-high heels makes me stop to take her all in. Today she’s wearing a skirt that goes to her mid-calf, except it’s tight as fuck and hugs every single curve, plus shows off her incredible ass. “Stop staring at my ass,” she retorts, still looking ahead, and I have to laugh.
“Stop wearing things that make me stare at your ass, and I’ll stop doing it.” I make my way over to the car, opening the door for her. “It’s like right in my face.” She turns, and I look down at her flowy, floral shirt. “And the shirt is all ‘look at my tits.’”
She laughs, looking down at her shirt. “That’s all in your head. This shirt doesn’t give anything away.”
“Well, I know you’re wearing a lace bra under it,” I tell her, and she shakes her head, pulling the door handle open.
“That’s because you watched me get dressed.” She slips into the car. “Maybe I should move my stuff to the spare closet.”
“Yeah?” I glare at her. “Try it.” I slam the door, but her laughter is heard from outside the car.
I get into the car, and she leans over and kisses my cheek. “Don’t be cranky,” she soothes before reaching for her seat belt. “No one likes a cranky Nash.”
I put on my sunglasses before making my way to the office. Ever since we got married, I start my day at eight o’clock, getting in with everyone else. When we arrive at the office, she gets out, holding her bag in one hand and her matcha in the other. I kiss her as soon as we get to the door and I pull it open for her to walk in. “Good morning, you two,” Lulu greets with a smile.
“Good morning,” Zoey says to her and then walks away from me. “Have a good day.”
I watch her walk toward the shared office space before walking into my own office. I get my computer started when a text comes in, and I smile because I know it’s from her.
Zoey: Have a great day at work.
It’s little things like this that make me smile throughout the day.
Me: Thank you, baby.
I send her the text before I get to work. I’m getting up a couple of hours later, going to find Zoey to see if she’s hungry, when I hear Lulu paging her to the front. A bouquet is on the desk. I put my hands in my pockets, trying to calm the burn in my stomach. “You rang?” Zoey asks when she comes closer to the door, looking at Lulu and then at me. “Did you have me paged so I can come to you?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“I did not,” I reply, my voice tighter than I want it to be.
“He didn’t, but I think in a way he did.” She smiles at her. “These were delivered for you.”
She points at the flowers on the desk in front of her.
Zoey looks at me with a smile, and I make a note to send her flowers more often. “Why did you do this?” she asks, reaching for the card.
“I didn’t,” I say at the same time she opens the card and reads the message on it. Her face turns a touch red as she looks at me and then at Lulu, who is now just looking at us, not sure what to say.
“So who are they from?” My mouth asks the question before my brain can stop it.
“I’m going to go and make coffee.” Lulu gets up to give us a private moment. I watch her walk to the back, and I’m about to say something else when Kailyn walks from the kitchen.
“Hey, you have a Zoom meeting in five,” she says, looking at the flowers and then looking at Zoey. “Isn’t he the sweetest?” She looks at me and then walks to her desk.
“Those are nice flowers,” I note, waiting for her to say something. “They from Jarod?” I do it on purpose, getting his name wrong.
“It doesn’t matter who they’re from.” She avoids looking in my eyes. “I’m going to put them in the kitchen.” She grabs the glass vase, still avoiding my eyes.
“What did the card say?” I ask, and she stops and looks at me.
“What difference does it make?” Her shoulders go back. “At least with me, it’s not right in my face every single day. It’s in waves.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I snap, trying to keep my voice low.
“I’m talking about not only having to go one-on-one with Emmy last night,” she replies, her voice low, “but having to watch Kailyn fawn all over you all day long. ‘Oh, Nash, you have a call in five minutes.’” Her voice is high. “‘Oh, Nash, you look so good in that suit.’” She glares at me. “News flash, it’s the same suit every day, just a different color.” I’m literally speechless. I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about. “‘Oh, Nash, I’d love nothing more than for you to do me on your desk.’” She rolls her eyes.
“She’s my assistant,” I say, looking around trying to keep my voice down, but I’m shocked she’s even saying these things.
“Who wants you to do her on your desk,” she repeats.
“I would never, ever cross that line with her or anyone else who works for me,” I declare between clenched teeth.
“Not for you but with you. That’s a big difference,” she says sarcastically as she walks away from me.
“How the fuck did this turn around on me?” I mumble as she walks through the office to the back.
“If anyone wants to take home these flowers,” she offers to a couple of people who must be in there, “you are more than happy to have them.” She comes out of the kitchen and looks at me still standing here, glaring at me before she makes her way over to the desk, stopping. “Don’t forget your call.” She uses that voice again before she rolls her eyes and disappears, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.