Chapter 37 #2
The car slows before the high-rise and we exit. Easton wraps his arm around me and holds me close as the doors to the building slide open. When we’re on the elevator, he kisses my forehead and wraps his arms around me.
When we finally enter the diamond in the sky, the lights are low. The golden city surrounds us, the buildings shining bright.
Easton smiles, capturing my attention in a snap. In moments like this, I have a hard time remembering who I was before I unapologetically barged into this man’s life.
“Home sweet home,” I say, seeing my new books we bought in Texas stacked high on the counter.
Easton yawns, and I can see how tired he is.
“Shall we go to bed?” I ask, and he loops his finger into mine as we climb the stairs.
“Do you want to pick a room?”
I laugh and he tilts his head.
“Yours.”
He grabs my elbow, brushing his thumb against my skin, and smiles. “ Ours. Only confirming you haven’t changed your mind about us.”
“I’m not leaving the center of whatever mattress you’re sleeping on unless you want me to,” I admit.
“So, never. Got it.” He gives me a boyish grin and I nearly melt right there.
Easton takes a quick shower and I jump in with him as we rinse the day off our bodies. Then, we climb between his silk sheets and he holds me against his chest. I fall asleep to the calm sound of his beating heart.
M y eyes flutter open with Easton’s cock pressed into my back. His breathing is smooth and even and I know he’s still sleeping. I glance out at the twinkling lights of the surrounding buildings and let out a content sigh, wishing I knew what the future held.
“Go to sleep,” Easton whispers in my ear. His voice is a sexy gruff.
I suck in a deep breath and smile on an exhale.
I want my thoughts to let me go so I can drift off to dreamland with him again, but my mind races. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I know,” he says. “Meet me for lunch tomorrow.”
“Burgers?”
“I’d love that,” he tells me, his chin on my shoulder.
His breath floats against the nape of my neck, his chest against my bare back. His hand slides into my panties and I sigh heavily when he touches me.
“ Fuck ,” he growls as my hips buck forward, giving him access to my wet slit.
It doesn’t matter how much of him I have; I always ache for more.
I bite on my bottom lip, knowing it won’t take much to get me off. My breathing turns into pants, and soon, I’m sliding out of my panties. Easton is on top of me, burying himself deep inside. I grab on to the sheets with my fists as he pumps into me.
“Easton,” I groan, opening my thighs, wanting him to break me in half. “I want to feel where you’ve been tomorrow.”
“Mmm, you will,” he says as I cry out, the pleasure too much to bear.
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “So fucking in love.”
And like a summer breeze, we’re whisked away, chasing total ecstasy and finding it together. The two of us collapse after only temporarily satisfying an insatiable hunger.
The next time I wake, I reach over to an empty California king. Where he was is cold to the touch. Based on how high the bright sun is, Easton’s been gone for hours.
I notice a small sheet of paper on the nightstand.
The outside reads, One Week Married to You.
I open it, and there’s a drawing of me sleeping in bed this morning .
I glance at the vantage point, knowing exactly where he was standing as he drew this, and I can imagine him there with the intense expression on his beautiful face as he sketched everything, down to the knobs on the drawers of the nightstand.
The detail of my hair, the crumpled blankets, and the curve of my back are impressive.
When I unlock my phone, I see it’s ten minutes until ten. It’s the latest I’ve slept in since I crashed into Easton at the W. I needed sleep after gallivanting around the world with a man I’d only dreamed existed.
I go downstairs, wearing one of Easton’s T-shirts, and move to the kitchen.
I stand on my tiptoes and grab my mug from the cabinet, pulling it down and sliding it under the espresso machine.
After looking around the gadget, I press a button on top.
A song plays, the beans grind, and seconds later, a beautiful, dark espresso drips into my cup.
“No way,” I say, glancing down at the crema floating at the top. I swirl it around, inhaling it.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Easton says from a speaker on the counter. His face pops up on the screen.
I lean over and rest my chin on my hand. “ Good morning, hubby. ”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Better with you,” I mutter, not fully awake.
“Those panties,” he says. “Mmm. My only regret is not being there right now.”
I look over my shoulder and notice the cameras in the corners of the rooms. Having cameras inside your house is a rich people thing. “Lunch still?”
“Yes,” he says, checking his watch. “A car will be there for you in forty minutes.”
“Forty?”
He nods. “Please don’t be late.”
“I’ll be ready, just for you,” I tell him, blowing on the hot liquid.
He smirks and the screen goes black.
“I know you’re still watching,” I say, glancing around at the cameras as I sit on one of the eight stools that line his long marble counter. “Oh, wow, this coffee is great. Kudos. Guess you do have good taste.” I snicker and lift the mug.
“Alexis,” Easton says from the monitor on the counter.
I glance over my shoulder at him, and it’s almost like he’s here.
“You’re distracting me.”
“Stop making it so easy,” I say. “I’m sitting here, minding my business, drinking espresso.”
“Looking like a cocktease.” He chuckles. “I have to be in a meeting in two minutes. I’m sure everyone is waiting for me.”
He stands, showing me his pants and how his cock is nearly bursting the seams. The outline of him in his suit pants is a fucking sight to see. But I know how it feels to want someone so damn bad that it hurts—him specifically.
He shakes his head and sits back in his chair. “But I’m so fucking hungry for you.”
A mischievous grin sweeps across my face and I flip my hair over to one side as I move closer to the screen, like it will give us privacy.
“Why don’t you have me for lunch instead?”
His eyes flutter closed as he scoots further back in his chair. He’s contemplating it.
“I might be bad for business,” I whisper.
“But fucking fantastic for me , darling. Tempting, but I have to go. Have a wonderful day, and I’ll see you soon.” He blows me a kiss.
I catch it, wanting to steal his attention a little longer, but refuse to be his greatest distraction. “You too.”
The video chat ends, for real this time, and I lean against the counter. Neither of us is wrapped around the other’s finger; we’re handcuffed together, and there is no key.
I glance at the pink diamond, the stone he reserved for the one . And it’s on my finger.
I walk to the windows and view the park below. It’s busy with people enjoying the summer weather.
I finish my coffee, and rinse out the mug, then I glance at my cell phone. It’s like a poisonous snake waiting to strike.
I know what Easton and I did—secretly eloped. We robbed everyone of the experience of attending the wedding of the century.
I avoid reality a little longer and go upstairs.
When I enter Easton’s closet, I stand in shock.
It’s the size of Carlee’s apartment. It’s essentially a department store.
Every color—blue, black, gray—is available in ties, suits, and shirts.
And I imagine Easton wearing every single one.
Polo shirts, khaki, and sailing shoes. Shorts, vintage band T-shirts, and tennis shoes galore. At least he has style.
On the other side are beautiful ball gowns, pantsuits, and dresses. One section has graphic tees and ripped jeans from black to blue to white. Converses, in every shade, all my size. I glance at one of the T-shirts, and it says, Billionaire Obsessed , in cursive.
I burst into laughter and slide it on. “Smart-ass.”
I grab a pair of jeans, noting that the tag reads Gucci . Another pair is Balenciaga. These are designer clothes. My eyes scan over everything he purchased, and it’s well over six figures. I want to know how he pulled it off without me knowing.
A small dresser with a mirror on top sits between summer and winter wear. There’s a card folded in half with my name scribbled across it. I smile when I notice Easton‘s handwriting.
Surprise, darling. I knew you’d find this eventually.
“He’s so good at this,” I say, bending over to put on shoes.
As I straighten to stand, I glance into the full-length mirror.
My fingers trail across my neck, where Easton lost control.
Light bruises pepper my delicate skin. I decide to wear my hair up so no one misses it.
If we’re giving us a real chance, everyone needs to understand he’s mine—at least for now.
When I’m downstairs, I grab my phone, and it feels foreign in my hand. I haven’t turned it on in a week because we were lost together. I press the button and wait.
The headlines quickly load after I type his name into the search bar.
EASTON CALLOWAY IS OFF THE MARKET.
EASTON CALLOWAY IS MARRIED!
EASTON CALLOWAY FOUND HIS FOREVER WOMAN!
EASTON CALLOWAY AND HIS WIFE!
EASTON CALLOWAY MARRIES DOWN!
EASTON CALLOWAY’S FAKE MARRIAGE
THE DIAMOND PRINCE HAS WED.
I see countless pictures of us together in Fiji. When we were there, everything disappeared. It felt like it was just us. We were foolish.
The text messages flood in, along with missed call notifications from Carlee, Remi, my mom, and my brothers. It’s too much.
I sit back on the cushion, wishing it would swallow me as my phone buzzes.
The front door swings open and I make eye contact with Easton. I can barely speak as he bolts toward me with fire in his eyes. I stand up to greet him and his hand finds its way behind my neck, pulling me closer.
I laugh against his lips. “What are you doing here?”
“I canceled the meeting,” he said. “I didn’t give a fuck. I needed you.” He lays me back on the couch. “I chose you.”
“Reckless,” I say, running my fingers through his hair, wanting him closer.
“You’re right. You might be bad for business.”
He stands, removing his suit jacket and tie. I join him, pushing his shirt from his shoulders, then remove his belt and slide his pants down.
When he reads my shirt, a howl of laughter escapes him. “Surprised?”
“You’re too good to me,” I tell him as he quickly removes my shoes, pants, and panties like a magician.
“You make me want to be better. I’m a better man because of you.”
He parts my thighs and sinks deep inside me. We’re desperate, like the six hours we were separated was too much.
Deep grunts release from him as I nearly gasp for air. We greedily chase our high, pushing one another to climax, as if we were running a marathon. He pumps inside of me hard; our moans mix, creating a symphony of passion. I don’t ever want this to get old. I don’t want anything to change.
My muscles seize and I base-jump off the cliff as I come, the orgasm rocking through me. It’s so intense that it nearly shatters me to pieces as guttural groans come from my throat.
“Fuck,” he growls, continuing to slam into my cunt until he loses himself.
We’re breathless, but we still find enough air to slowly kiss one another.
“When I left the office, I felt like an addict. Nothing else mattered but you.”
“I know. You do that to me too,” I whisper. “It’s what makes us dangerous for one another.”
He brushes his nose against mine. “Fuck, I know.”
“I always wished someone would look at me like you do.”
“Relatable.”
He places a soft kiss on my lips, and we lie in each other’s arms until Easton’s phone buzzes, pulling us away. We clean up and redress.
Easton checks his watch once he straightens his tie. “I can’t do lunch, not with the traffic being as bad as it is. I’m sorry, darling.”
“Don’t apologize unless you regret what we did instead,” I say.
He smirks. “Zero fucking regrets anytime I choose you.”
I grab his tie, tugging him toward me. His lips brush against mine.
“Same.”