Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Maren
Keats Morgan is a devil in a three-piece suit with a mouth made for sin.
I stare at him as he exits the elevator.
It’s been over an hour since I left his townhouse. I didn’t make it more than twenty feet down the sidewalk before I ran into his brother and niece.
My dress was the dead giveaway that I had spent the night with Keats. Stevie commented that she’d wear a dress like mine all the time if she had one, so I’m determined to find something similar to gift her with.
Maybe that’s crossing a line, but it feels right.
Spending the night with Keats felt right too.
“You’re smiling this morning, Miss Weber,” Keats says as he approaches my desk. “A word in my office, please.”
I nod as I feel the eyes of my co-workers on me.
I stand up. Smoothing my hand over the skirt of the navy blue shift dress I changed into, I walk into my boss’s office.
“Shut the door,” he says without turning to face me.
I click it closed quietly, taking an extra second to turn the lock.
“I left before you woke up,” I point out the obvious. “I needed to get home to change before work.”
He pivots to face me. His gaze travels over my body. “I want to strip you bare, Maren. I need to fuck you again.”
My core aches with need. “Tonight.”
“Tonight?” He edges a brow up. “That’s a long time from now.”
I take a measured step closer to him, fully aware that my nipples have furled into tight points. “You’ll manage.”
“Will I?” He drops his hand to the front of his navy blue pants. Cupping his erection through the fabric, he lowers his voice. “I’m as hard as nails.”
“We’re at work, Keats.”
He stares into my eyes. “I won’t touch you here, but as soon as the day is over, I want you on your knees in my bedroom.”
The promise of that draws my tongue over my bottom lip. “Maybe I won’t make it until the end of the day.”
He steps closer until we’re almost touching. “Don’t lay a finger on that pussy before tonight. No pleasure without me, Maren.”
I nod, hopelessly in lust with this man. “I won’t.”
His gaze trails over my body. “This conversation is going to kill me.”
Huffing out a laugh, I lock eyes with him. “You’ll live, Keats. I promise that the wait will be worth it.”
Three hours later, I’m still catching my breath from the conversation I had with Keats in his office.
I’ve spent the morning reaching out to several of Keats’s New York based clients to set up dinner meetings with them.
My boss likes to keep the lines of communication open with his clients, and for him, that means face-to-face interactions.
I scheduled two lunches for next week and dinner with a client who asked me to thank Keats for the dollhouse he sent to his daughter for her birthday.
I’m responsible for that.
I saw the note in Keats’s online calendar that he wanted to send a dollhouse to the girl, so I made the call myself to place the order so it would arrive in plenty of time for her sixth birthday party.
Glancing up when the elevator dings its arrival on our floor, I smile when I see Fletcher Newman exit.
He holds up a hand in greeting to me.
I glance at Keats’s office and notice him on a call. His brow is furrowed, and his voice lowered as he speaks to a scout based in California.
I slide to my feet to intercept Fletcher.
“Hey, Fletcher.” I step to the side to block entrance to my boss’s office.
“Maren,” he says my name with a bright smile. “I was in the neighborhood. I thought I’d stop by and say hi, so hi.”
I let out a laugh. “Keats is on a call, but he won’t be much longer.”
He glances over my shoulder. “I came to see you.”
I’m surprised, but I don’t let it show. “What can I do for you?”
He produces a bunch of flowers from behind his back.
I gasp when I see the colorful mixture of roses, daffodils, and peonies.
“These are for you.” He shoves the bouquet toward me. “My mom wanted me to get them to say thank you for the gift and for helping me with the tux.”
I take them from him. “This wasn’t necessary, but thank you, and please, tell your mom thank you too.”
His gaze drops to the floor. “She said your heart is as big as Long Island.”
I laugh. “That’s big.”
“She told me that good people do good things.” He glances over my shoulder. “You’re a really good person.”
“She’s an incredible person.” Keats’s voice sounds from behind me. “Maren is one in a trillion million.”
Fletcher laughs. “Is that a real thing? A trillion million.”
Keats steps in place beside me. “According to my niece, it is. Maren is special. You’ll never find another woman on earth like her.”
I glance at him but drop the gaze once I feel my heart race in my chest.
“I think my folks want to meet up with you two again soon.” Fletcher draws both our attention back to him.
“Why don’t the three of you come to my home for dinner one night?” Keats offers. “We’d love that, wouldn’t we, Maren?”
We.
I’m beginning to love the sound of that word as much as I love the sound of us.
“We would,” I say softly.
“I’ll tell my mom to call you, Maren.” Fletcher sighs. “I need to cut out now. I’m meeting up with someone.”
“Thank you again.” I raise the flowers to my nose. “I’m going to put these in water.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Keats steps toward Fletcher but not before he skims a hand down my back.
It sends a shiver through me.
It’s a promise of what awaits me tonight and, hopefully, for many nights to come.