Chapter 58
KENT
She unlocked the door, and I was back. It was crazy to think I felt more at home in her tiny little place than I did in my penthouse. There was nothing fancy about it.
But it felt like home.
“You can put your bag in the room,” she said. “Do you want something to drink? I could make hot chocolate, or—”
“Actually,” I interrupted, remembering the drink she’d made me during my first visit. “Could you make one of those hot toddies?”
Her face lit up like I’d just given her the best gift imaginable. “Really? You want one?”
“I’ve been thinking about it all week,” I admitted. “Kept trying to recreate it in my apartment but could never get it right.”
“That’s because it’s not just about the recipe,” she said, already pulling out ingredients. “It’s about the intention. The care that goes into making it.”
I watched her move around the small kitchen measuring whiskey and honey, heating water, adding a cinnamon stick and slice of lemon. When she handed me the steaming mug, I smiled at her.
I took a sip. Warmth spread through my body. “Perfect,” I murmured.
Sylvie settled beside me on the couch with her own mug, snuggling close to me. We sat in comfortable silence, both savoring our drinks and the quiet intimacy of being alone together.
It was crazy because it was these kinds of moments that I had been thinking about all week.
I couldn’t stop looking at her. The curve of her lips as she took another sip. The way she fit perfectly against my side when I set down my mug and pulled her closer.
“Kent?” she asked, setting her own mug on the coffee table.
I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I cupped her face and kissed her, slow and deep, pouring everything I felt into that connection. She melted against me with a soft sound that made my blood heat.
“Bedroom?” I murmured against her lips.
“Yes,” she breathed.
I stood, pulling her up with me. She led me down the short hallway to her room. More Christmas decorations twinkled from the dresser and windowsill.
But I barely registered any of it. All I could focus on was Sylvie. I knew how lucky I was to have her in my arms. I thought I lost her for good.
I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of honey and whiskey on her lips. My hands found the hem of her sweater, and she lifted her arms to let me pull it over her head. The sight of her in just her bra and jeans made my breath catch.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, tracing the line of her collarbone with my fingers.
She reached for my own sweater, tugging it off and tossing it over my shoulder. Her hands explored my chest, mapping the muscles there with a touch that was both curious and reverent.
We undressed each other slowly, taking our time, learning each other’s bodies all over again. When we were finally skin to skin, I pulled her down onto the bed, covering her body with mine.
“I love you,” I said, needing her to hear it again. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
Her eyes glistened with tears. “I love you too.”
I kissed her again. My hands tangled in her hair as I pressed her into the mattress.
I kissed my way down her body, taking my time, worshiping every inch of her skin. When I reached her breasts, I circled one nipple with my tongue, drawing it into my mouth while my hand cupped the other. She arched beneath me, her fingers threading through my hair.
“Kent,” she breathed. Hearing my name on her lips like that made me want to make her say it again and again.
I continued my descent, pressing kisses along her ribs, across her stomach, pausing to trace patterns with my tongue that made her shiver. When I reached the top of her thighs, I looked up at her, meeting her eyes.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I said.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she replied, her voice husky with need.
I smiled against her skin and spread her legs wider, settling between them.
The first touch of my tongue made her gasp.
Her hips lifted off the bed. I gripped her thighs, holding her steady as I explored her with my mouth, learning what made her moan and what made her fingers tighten in my hair.
I paid special attention to the places that made her tremble.
She tasted incredible. Sweet and warm and utterly addictive. I could have stayed there for hours, just listening to the sounds she made, feeling her body respond to every stroke of my tongue.
I found her clit and circled it slowly, building the pleasure gradually. Her breathing became ragged, punctuated by soft whimpers that drove me crazy. When I slid two fingers inside her, she cried out, her body clenching around me.
“Oh God, Kent,” she gasped. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
I had no intention of stopping. Not ever.
I worked her with my mouth and fingers, establishing a rhythm that had her writhing beneath me. Her hands fisted in the sheets, then found my hair again, holding me against her like she was afraid I might disappear again. Not a chance.
I felt her getting close. Her body tensed. Her breathing turned shallow and desperate. I increased the pressure and speed, giving her exactly what she needed.
When she came, she shattered beautifully, my name falling from her lips like a prayer. I worked her through it, gentling my touch as the waves subsided, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs while she came back to herself.
I crawled back up her body, kissing her deeply so she could taste herself on my lips. “That was just the beginning,” I promised.
She smiled against my mouth, her hands sliding down my back to grip my ass. “Then stop talking and show me what else you’ve got.”
I laughed, the sound rough with desire. “Yes, ma’am.”
I reached for the nightstand knowing the condoms were still there. I grabbed one and rolled it on quickly, my hands shaking slightly with anticipation.
When I finally pushed inside her, we both groaned. She was so tight, so absolutely perfect. The way she wrapped her legs around my waist made me see stars.
“You feel amazing,” I said, burying my face in her neck as I started to move.
She clung to me, her nails digging into my shoulders. I set a slow, deep rhythm. I wanted to make it last. I had every intention of memorizing every sensation and every sound she made. I was going to imprint myself on her.
But she had other ideas. She rolled us over, taking control, riding me with a confidence that was incredibly sexy. I gripped her hips, watching her move above me with her hair falling around her face. Her breasts bounced with each movement.
“God, Sylvie,” I groaned. “You’re going to kill me.”
She leaned down to kiss me, her grinding becoming more urgent. “Then we’ll die together.”
I felt my control slipping, the pleasure building at the base of my spine. I reached between us, finding her clit with my thumb, and felt her clench around me in response.
“Come for me,” I urged. “I want to feel you.”
She threw her head back, her body tensing, and then she was coming again, her inner muscles gripping me so tightly I couldn’t hold back anymore. I followed her over the edge, my vision whiting out as the orgasm crashed through me.
She collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we came down from the high.
“I love you,” I whispered into her hair.
“I love you too,” she replied, pressing a kiss to my chest.
We lay there, our bodies still tangled together, neither of us ready to move. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this content, this at peace.
This was what I’d been missing my entire life. Not the sex, though that had been incredible. But the intimacy and connection. I loved the sense of belonging with another person.
Eventually, we cleaned up and crawled under the covers, her body curving perfectly into mine as I spooned her from behind. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the lingering smell of sex.
“What happens now?” she asked quietly.
“Now we figure it out together,” I said.
“And your family?”
I thought about my father, about the disappointment and anger that would come when I told him what I had done. The thought should have terrified me, but lying here with Sylvie, I found I didn’t care.
“They’ll either accept it, or they won’t,” I said. “Either way, I’m not changing my mind. This is where I want to be.”
She turned in my arms to face me, her eyes searching mine in the dim light. “You’re really sure about this? About giving up everything you’ve built in New York?”
“I’m not giving up anything that matters,” I said, cupping her face. “I’m gaining everything that does. Besides, I didn’t build shit in New York. I’ve been a bum, which is why my dad gave me the ultimatum to begin with.”
“How so?” she asked.
“How so what?”
“Your bum lifestyle.” She laughed. “What does that look like?”
I sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed about admitting what my life had looked like before coming here. But if I was going all in with Sylvie, she deserved to know exactly what kind of person I’d been.
“I was living off my trust fund,” I said. “Waking up whenever I wanted, usually around noon. My days were spent going to the gym, maybe meeting up with friends for lunch at some overpriced restaurant where we’d spend three hours drinking wine and accomplishing nothing.”
“That doesn’t sound terrible,” she said, though I could hear the curiosity in her voice.
“It gets worse,” I admitted. “Nights were for clubbing or attending gallery openings where I’d pretend to care about art while networking with people who were just as empty as I was.
Sometimes I’d fly to Miami or LA on a whim, just because I was bored.
I dated women whose names I can barely remember now.
Women who were more interested in my bank account than who I was as a person. ”
I felt her tense slightly against me. I tightened my arms around her.
“I wasn’t a good person, Sylvie. I was shallow and selfish and completely directionless. My father kept telling me I needed to get serious about the family business, but I didn’t see the point. Why work when I already had more money than I could spend?”
“What changed?” she asked softly.
“He gave me an ultimatum,” I said. “Either I start taking my role in the business seriously, or he’d cut me off completely. No more trust fund, no more penthouse, no more credit cards with unlimited spending. I’d have to actually work for a living like everyone else.”
“So you came here to prove yourself.”
“I came here to close a deal that would impress him enough to get him off my back,” I corrected. “I had no intention of actually changing. I figured I’d swoop in, convince your family to sell, go back to New York with a win under my belt, and continue living my meaningless life.”
I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“But then I met you. And you showed me what it looked like to actually care about something beyond yourself. To work hard not because you had to, but because you genuinely loved what you were doing. To create joy for other people instead of just chasing your own pleasure.”
“I’m not that special,” she protested.
“You are to me,” I said. “You made me realize that I’d been sleepwalking through my entire adult life.
That all the parties and travel and expensive toys were just ways to fill the emptiness inside.
I was a professional bum, Sylvie. I contributed nothing to the world.
I took and took and never gave anything back. ”
She was quiet for a moment, processing what I’d told her. “And now?” she finally asked.
“Now I want to build something,” I said. “With you.”
She kissed me softly. I felt her smile against my lips. “When did you get so romantic?”
“When I met a woman who made me want to be better than I was.”
She snuggled back against me with a content sigh. “We should probably sleep. Tomorrow is going to be intense.”
I would have to face my own family and deal with the fallout from my decision eventually if her family accepted my proposal.