44. Amara
Chapter forty-four
Amara
M y phone buzzes on the desk, and I glance down, seeing Nicholas’s name lighting up the screen.
Nicholas :
Come to my office.
It’s my first day back at the office since I tried to quit—which Nicholas flat-out denied—and I haven’t even made it through ten minutes of catching up on emails.
A smile tugs at my lips as I quickly type a response.
Me :
We’re not having sex in your office again. People will talk.
Nicholas :
Couldn’t care less what people say, baby. But it’s not that. I promise.
I laugh under my breath, shaking my head as I stand up, smoothing my skirt down my thighs before heading toward his office.
When I reach his door, I don’t bother knocking. I push it open, not expecting to find anything different. But instead of sitting behind his desk, buried in paperwork like usual, he’s standing by the window, his arms crossed in front of him, watching the city below.
I stop just inside the doorway, feeling a small flutter in my chest at the sight of him, and clear my throat. “You wanted to see me?”
He turns to face me, and his lips quirk in a smile, his eyes softening the moment they land on mine. “I always want to see you.” He steps forward, his hands flying to my hips as our lips meet. I part my lips, gasping when his soft tongue brushes against mine.
“Nicholas,” I murmur, pulling back with a chuckle. “You’re not even pretending to be professional anymore.”
His forehead drops to mine, a soft groan slipping from his lips. “I’ve become an addict when it comes to your lips. I need them, Amara. Always.”
“Later,” I murmur, fingers toying with the smooth fabric of his tie. “What did you need from me?”
His hand lingers at my waist for a beat too long before he turns toward his desk. He grabs a stack of papers, his fingers grazing mine as he hands them over. “I need you to sign these.”
I flip through the pages, my stomach twisting the moment I register the bolded words at the top. Resignation papers.
My head snaps up. “Wait… You’re firing me?”
He shrugs, a small, amused smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Not exactly,” he replies. “I’m promoting you.”
The words don’t quite make sense at first. My brain races, struggling to catch up. “What? But… there’s still a week left.”
“I told you, Amara. No more contracts. No more pretending. No more lies. It’s just you and me now. And this—” He gestures to the papers. “This is me making good on my promise to you.”
I blink, my heart thudding in my chest, unsure of how to respond.
“You’ll have a new position in the New York designer facility,” he continues, “and a raise, of course.”
A breath escapes my lungs, disbelief flooding my mind. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve worked for this moment, fought for it. But my heart clenches at the thought of leaving this role behind. I’ve grown so used to being here with him, sharing this space every day. I glance up at him, a little hesitant.
“So…” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I won’t be your assistant anymore?”
“No,” he confirms. “You won’t. I’m in the process of hiring someone new. He’s organized. Smart. Graduated from Harvard.”
“Wow.” I feel a small jolt of jealousy, though I don’t want to admit it. “He sounds great.”
He meets my gaze, his expression sharpening. “Remind me never to introduce you two.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “You’re such a caveman.”
His gaze softens, and he steps closer, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m in love,” he corrects, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. “And love makes men do strange things.”
My heart skips a beat at his words. “Like what?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulls me into his arms, eliciting a gasp out of me when he picks me up and places me on his desk, his breath warm against my ear.
“Spread your legs, sweetheart.”
I let out a laugh. “You promised we wouldn’t have sex in here.”
He hums, smoothing his hand up my thigh. “I also promised myself I wouldn’t fall for you, and yet here we are.” His brow lifts. “You want me to eat your pussy on this desk, honey?”
I should say no. I should hop off and go back to work. Try to keep some semblance of professionalism. But the way his eyes burn into mine, and his hands warm every inch of my skin, has my resolve melting into a puddle in my underwear.
I spread my legs wider, and he breaks out into a grin as he kneels to the ground and grips my thighs in his hands.
“I’m going to miss these office visits,” he grunts against my skin.
I breathe out a laugh. “Is that all you’re going to miss?”
He arches his brow, lifting his gaze to meet mine. “You forget, I’ve been gone for you for years before I even tasted your lips.” His fingers slip under the hem of my sweater, gently tugging it over my head. “I loved looking into your eyes. Loved seeing you smile. Loved picturing what color sweater you’d wear to work that day.”
My heart thuds harder in my chest. I had no idea he thought that much about me.
His hands cradle my face, his lips brushing mine so softly that I melt into him. “I’m going to miss you , Amara. Not just the sex or the kissing. I’ll miss your damn presence. I hate the thought of not having you right here, a few steps away from me… Of not having to make up reasons to call you in here so I could see you.”
I blink, surprised by the admission. “You really did that?”
He smirks, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. “I even debated changing the walls to glass so I could look at you all day… but then again,” he leans in, his voice dropping, “if I had, we couldn’t do this.” He punctuates his sentence by gripping my thighs, spreading them wider on his desk.
I can’t help but laugh, feeling both flustered and turned on by the thought. “You’re insane.”
“Call it whatever you want, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine. “Insane. Obsessed. Out of my mind in love. Doesn’t fucking matter as long as you’re with me.”
My heart swells at his words, but then he steps back, his expression turning serious. “I’m going to miss having you here. You’re irreplaceable, Amara. But I can’t hold you back because of my feelings. I want to see you do what you love. I want to see you succeed.”
My chest tightens, and I find myself smiling, my breath hitching in my throat. My heart feels like it’s about to leap out of my chest… or maybe it already has. Because my heart no longer belongs to me. It belongs to him. And it’s his to keep.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips, his words so raw they make my chest ache. “So much, I don’t even know how I functioned before you.”
I suck in a deep breath. “I love you too,” I reply, my arms curling around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He groans, leaning in, brushing his lips against mine, pouring everything he feels into this kiss.