Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
SALVATORE
Iarrive with the sun the next morning, in desperate need of a workout before my early meeting on New York time, and the second my desk comes into view, I falter.
Scenes from last night roll through my mind, and I internally groan.
How the hell am I expected to concentrate today with thoughts of Keeley covering her mouth as she screamed my name?
Or mental images of her knees pressed into her chest and her pussy weeping for me?
How will I ever look at this office the same?
I won’t. That’s the simple answer.
Camilla and I were together for years, and I never once fooled around with her in my office. Not for lack of her trying.
My office is my space. The only place I have all to myself.
And yet, I want Keeley here. I’ve wanted her here since the moment we first met.
Now she’s forever ingrained, because I am never going to lose the memory of last night.
After working out my frustrations, pushing myself to my limits at the staff gym, I barely make it to the New York call with my sanity intact. And by the time I get to my first meeting in person, I’m a mess.
She’s taken over my mind, she’s all I can think about, and I have never been consumed like this before.
As the room fills, I’m agonizing over what comes next between us, when Keeley waltzes in as though nothing has changed. Her bright smile flits my way, and she winks when nobody’s watching.
She’s completely unaffected. And I almost ask what’s wrong.
I’m not as okay as she looks. So…is her appearance a front?
“Morning, everyone.” Her smile widens as she sits down at the other end of the table, taking the head position opposite me, as though she’s my queen.
“Wes asked me to join you for five minutes to field any questions you might have regarding scheduled interviews during our training camp and preseason practices. We’ve already had reporters stalking the players to ask for exclusives with particular interest in discussing Beckett Myers, and I wouldn’t put it past them to move on to you next.
He’s a hot commodity, and people are understandably interested in his story, with the big question being how we secured him over everyone else.
“Let it be known that like last year, we have restricted media interviews during the first two weeks of training camp. And while you may be approached, I ask that you check with me before agreeing to any press. Questions?”
A couple of people ask for advice, but I couldn’t tell you what advice they’re seeking because I’m too busy watching Keeley, in awe, loving the way she holds the room.
I wasn’t joking when I said she could take over my job, not because she’s the most qualified, but because of the way she commands attention. In a man’s world, she confidently demands respect, and fuck, it’s glorious to watch.
It’s hard to picture that there was ever a time when she was vulnerable and raw, and yet, something tells me she’s been there. She has to have been. We all have. There’s always a story to tell, and I want to know hers. I want to know everything there is to know about her.
Sure, we talk, but I have this urge to discover all her deepest, darkest secrets. The skeletons in her closet.
Day-to-day she’s an open book, but what’s she hiding beneath that strength?
Keeley finishes up with her questions and waves as she exits, drawing my attention until she’s out of my line of sight, never once looking back.
And while I called this meeting, I suddenly wish we were done.
It’s another slow seventy-five minutes before I get back to my desk, and I’ve barely sat down when there’s a knock at my door.
“It’s me,” Keeley calls out, and my shoulders drop as I stand up again, just as she announces, “I’m coming in.”
Happiness radiates from within her as she glides inside and closes the door, her stride confident and familiar. After a quick glance around the room, she flattens her knee-length skirt and lowers to the couch, crossing her ankles while raising a brow my way.
“You wanted to see me?”
“I did?” I sit down slowly, my eyes flashing to my blacked-out computer as though I’m going to find a meeting reminder in the middle of the screen. I quickly bring the damn thing to life as I frown. I don’t remember anything.
My calendar pops up first, and my confusion deepens. “This says that I’m currently free.” I quickly glance her way. “I can’t see anything for—” I cut myself off when she laughs.
“You’re messing with me?”
“Am I? Or have you been thinking about me all morning and wishing I was here?”
Jesus Christ. Maybe she can read my thoughts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s a shame.” She fakes a pout. “I always thought we were on the same wavelength.”
“Why are you here, Keeley?” I lightly scold her—despite knowing exactly what she’s alluding to—and her eyes flare with a fire I saw for the first time last night.
“My answer to that comes in two parts. I’m not sure you’re ready for the second.”
Goddammit. The way my dick begs to be called into play, I’m certain he is. If that’s what she’s referring to. She’s right about me, though; I’m not ready. “What’s the first thing?”
“I wanted to check in. To see how you were doing after breaking your strict moral code.”
I should be offended by her low-level teasing, but instead, I laugh out loud, this entire situation taking me so far away from my comfort zone, I can barely see it anymore.
“How are you?” I counter. “Does anything between us bother you at all?”
“It would be a lot easier if you weren’t my brother’s future father-in-law, my boss, and my best friend’s dad, but does it bother me that you are?
No. It’s not like we’re getting married and I’m becoming…
” Keeley trails off before her eyes widen and she laughs hysterically, her whole body shaking as she covers her face with her hands. “Oh, this is good.”
“What did I miss?”
She straightens up, her eyes wild with excitement. “I want you to visualize it so you’ll find it as funny as I did.”
“Oh-kay.”
“Picture Easton’s face as he hears the news that his annoying older sister is now also his mother-in-law.”
I freeze at her words. While I can definitely see the humor in what she’s saying, I’m ninety percent sure all the blood just drained from my face, because I feel lightheaded.
When she puts it that way, it sounds so much worse than it is. “There are off-limits relationships, and then there’s us.” I shake my head, turning away. There are so many things wrong with that image.
“What? You don’t find it funny? Did you picture it?”
“I’m not marrying you to get back at your brother.”
Keeley snorts, and I have to admit her amusement is a little infectious, eliciting a smile without my consent.
“Ha. I told you.”
“I’m not smiling over Easton’s pain.”
“Then what are you smiling about?”
“You. Your happiness. Your joy.”
“Oh.” The amusement drops from her face, and I almost apologize for whatever I said wrong, until her lips pull into the most delicately tight-lipped smile. “Thank you,” she whispers. “That’s actually really sweet.”
It takes me a moment to respond, caught in the softness of her voice, and I clear my throat, chuckling softly. “Yeah, well. You constantly remind me I’m a gentleman.”
“This is different though. So…thanks.”
Her admission has my heart pounding and a million questions running through my mind, all of them left unsaid. Instead, I circle back to her earlier comment.
“I’m almost afraid to ask. What’s number two?” Since we’ve established that the inappropriateness of us being together doesn’t bother her, I’m guessing not much is off-limits in her mind.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
No. “Yes. Hit me with it.”
Keeley gets up and walks over to my desk, the sound of her heels clacking on the floor like a warning, each step increasing the pace of my pulse.
When she’s standing opposite me, she flattens her palms on my mahogany desktop, exactly where I had her last night, and leans forward, her loose white shirt billowing to reveal a hint of her lace bra.
I subtly swallow a lump in my throat, worried that if I don’t, I won’t be able to respond when she finally speaks.
I’m a powerful man. People of all stature bow down to please me. Yet all it takes is one fierce little redhead, staring me in the eyes, and I’m the one ready to fall to my knees.
“I want another night, Salvatore,” Keeley begins, and I hold my stare, watching her lips as she speaks, waiting for her to finish before I react.
“I want…more licking, more fingers, more…” She trails off as her eyes drop to my crotch, and I thank the universe that I’m wearing black and she can’t see the bulge forming.
Because fuck… I want that too.
“Most of all.” She scrunches her nose in sympathy as though this next one is going to be the hardest to take, and I clench my fist under the desk. “I want to suck you dry.”
God-fucking-dammit. I have a meeting in thirty minutes, and I’m a few choice words away from coming in my pants.
Lifting my fist to my mouth, I close my eyes and groan, ignoring Keeley’s light giggles in front of me.
“I thought you were ready?”
“And I hoped you’d keep it PG in the middle of the day.”
“I could have dropped to my knees and pulled down your pants.”
Fuuuck. “You’re right,” I choke out. “This is better.”
“Good. So what do you say?” She smiles sweetly and I choke again, this time on a laugh.
“I have no fucking idea.”
“Let me help you out. The answer is yes. I’m not asking you to name a time or a place. I just want to know that if the opportunity arises, I can take it.” She stands tall, resting a hand on her waist as she pops a hip.
“Another night?”
“Or day, I’m not picky.”
“Like now?” My gaze flashes to the door, and for some messed-up reason, I seriously consider it.
“God, no. I have a meeting soon and so do you. I don’t want to rush it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” She laughs incredulously. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Neither was I. I lean back, trying to appear more composed than I am. “What were you expecting?”
“I’m not sure exactly.” She furrows her brows.
“Then why did you ask?”
“Hope?”
“Thank you for always telling it like it is, Keels. I never have to guess when it comes to you.” She laughs, but there’s an edge to it that wasn’t there before, and it brings me back to the last time that happened.
The day I told her that we’d signed Beckett.
Not that now is a good time to bring that up.
Tabitha buzzes my desk phone, and we both startle, as though released from a trance.
My eyes flash to my watch, and I curse under my breath. “Shit. I have to go.”
“Told you.”
“You did. So, ah…” I awkwardly scratch the back of my neck. “How does this work?” What the fuck? How does this work? I’m a grown man; I know how it works.
Keeley raises a brow and I roll my eyes. “We just see what happens.”
“I can do that.” I think. Maybe.
“Good. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thanks. Hope you have a nice afternoon.”
“You too.”
Unlikely, since I’ll now be thinking about whatever the fuck I just agreed to, and not much else.
Why can’t I think clearly when it comes to Ms. Reynolds?
Although the bigger question should be… If I could think clearly, what would I want?
I’m almost afraid to answer that.