Chapter 39
Brynne
If my apartment wasn’t lacking in food, I would have gone straight home and worked there the rest of the day. Instead, I go to the store and get a cart full of food, including the ingredients I need for tonight’s dinner. A dinner that I’m no longer cooking.
“Fucking asshole,” I grumble to myself as I walk from the garage to the elevator. It opens instantly to the lobby, where I take another set of elevators to the third floor without stopping. I do my best to carry the grocery bags without falling on my face.
“Let me help,” I hear a deep voice say.
“How did you get in here?” I ask Colin. He takes the bags from me, and I punch the code to my apartment. “Tigerlilly must be lonely.”
He puts the bags down on the counter, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me senseless. I shove at his chest, but he holds me against him and kisses me until I relent and kiss him back.
“I’ve been chasing you for weeks. I don’t want her. I want you, and I’ve made that abundantly clear. I told her I’m seeing someone and for her not to return to my office.” He kisses me again. Then he breaks it and unbuttons my coat. “You made me rush here. I didn’t get a chance to go home and pack for the night.”
I ignore him and walk down the hall. He follows me into my bedroom. It’s not a huge space, but it’s nice and has great lighting. I sit on the bed and pull off my boots. I throw them into the open walk-in closet before I stomp in there to undress. When I’m in nothing but my bra and panties, he approaches me.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn. I grab a pair of black yoga pants and a black shirt and put them on.
“But that’s all I think about.” He blocks my path out of the closet. “Come on, Honeybee, you know I only want you.”
“Move,” I say, and he shakes his head no. I try to push him out of the way. “I said move.”
He pulls me into his arms and holds me close. “Oh, baby.” He sticks his face in my neck. “This little jealous side of yours? I love it. It’s the most surprising thing about you.” He pulls away and grasps my chin. “You’re my girl.” He kisses my lips. “You’re my baby.” Another kiss. “My Honeybee.” He kisses me again.
I don’t kiss him back, so he slides his hand down my pants and strokes my clit through my underwear. I moan, and he sucks the base of my neck.
“You see how you made me chase you over here? I’ll always do that. I’ll always chase you. No one else.” He leaves my neck and kisses my lips. I finally kiss him back. I moan into his mouth and slide my hand through his hair. He moves his hand from my pants, and I groan in protest, but he lifts me off my feet, carries me out of the closet, and walks back to the bed, where he drops me, and I bounce. He pulls my pants off along with my panties, leaving me bare, and holds my stare while he strips himself of his clothes. By the time he slides between my legs, my pussy is a greedy, wet mess just waiting for him to slide inside. He pulls my shirt up and covers one of my breasts with his hand.
“Oh, yes,” I hiss when he slaps his stiff dick on my pussy. I spread my legs, and he rubs himself along my soaked entrance.
“This is only for you,” he whispers in my ear before he slides inside, and I forget everything.
“What the hell?” I ask a couple of hours later. I lift the lid off my large saucepan and smell the basil chicken. “Where did that come from?” He only left the apartment for less than five minutes. There’s no way he could go home and come back in that short time. He didn’t even bother to put on his coat when he left, and it’s five degrees outside.
He looks down at the large suitcase and duffel bag.
“I need clothes, Honeybee. I don’t have the luxury of wearing your clothes like you do with mine.” He blows me a kiss. After turning down the burner under the skillet, I decide to follow him into my bedroom.
The bed is still a mess from when we made love earlier. While he was inside of me, he repeatedly told me that I was the only one for him. When he wasn’t whispering in my ear, he was kissing me.
He’s inside my walk-in closet now, and I lean against the door. He whistles while he hangs up shirts and dress pants. I didn’t notice a garment bag, and he takes out two suits to hang. Once he’s done, he leaves the closet and kisses my forehead on his way out. He pulls underwear and socks out of his duffel and puts them in my top drawer. Then he removes his shirt and pants and puts on lounge pants and a plain black long-sleeved tee.
“Want me to set the table?” He rubs his hands together and walks out of the room. “I’m starving.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He looks through my cabinets and finds plates, glasses, and silverware.