Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
AUbrEY
The sound of Liana crying through the baby monitor pulls me slowly from sleep.
For one second, I don’t know where I am. Then I feel the warmth beside me.
Dean.
The memories of last night rush back all at once, and I have to fight the urge to bury my face in the pillow to hide my smile.
We spent hours together as time slipped away without either of us noticing. He devoured me last night. I’ve never come so hard multiple times in my life.
I didn’t think it was even possible. I don’t remember the last time I felt so completely seen by another person.
Dean groans softly beside me. I watch him pull on a pair of black sweatpants before disappearing into the hallway.
A few seconds later, I hear his quiet voice.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Liana immediately quiets.
I smile to myself.
For all his confidence in the boardroom, for all the intimidating billionaire headlines that seem to follow him everywhere, this version of Dean might be my favorite.
The man who talks to his daughter like she’s the most important person in the world.
I lie in bed for another minute, staring at the ceiling.
What does last night mean?
Was it the beginning of something or two people who’d spent weeks fighting their feelings finally giving in?
I honestly don’t know, and that’s the terrifying part.
I climb out of bed and spot one of Dean’s navy T-shirts draped over the chair, where he left it after changing.
On impulse, I slip it on.
The sleeves swallow my arms, and the hem falls almost to the middle of my thighs.
I catch my reflection in the mirror and laugh quietly.
I look ridiculous. And somehow … I’ve never felt happier.
By the time I reach the kitchen, the coffee maker is already humming.
I start warming Liana’s bottle before measuring coffee into the machine.
A few minutes later, Dean walks in, carrying Liana in his arms.
“Why don’t I feed her while you get ready for work?” I tell him as he goes for the bottle.
“You don’t mind?”
I smile. “I’d like to.”
His expression softens in a way that makes my chest ache.
“Thank you.”
He disappears down the hallway, leaving me standing with Liana in the morning light pouring through the windows.
As she drinks her bottle, I find myself staring toward Dean’s bedroom, trying not to overthink.
But the truth is, I’m already completely crazy about him. I was always crazy about the Dean I idolized as a teen, but this one—the man I’ve come to know intimately—is so much better than I could have ever imagined.
The sound of footsteps pulls me from my thoughts.
I look up and promptly forget how to breathe.
Dean steps into the kitchen, wearing a charcoal suit tailored so perfectly that it looks like it was made specifically for him, a crisp white shirt visible beneath the jacket, his tie already knotted, his watch catching the morning sunlight as he adjusts his cuff.
How is it possible for the same man who smiled at me across a pillow an hour ago to now look every bit the billionaire CEO who commands boardrooms?
He catches me staring.
A slow, knowing smile curves his lips. “What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I laugh softly. “You clean up well.”
“So do you.”
I glance down at the oversize shirt I’m wearing and raise an eyebrow. “I’m wearing your shirt.”
“Exactly.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. He closes the distance between us before I can think of a reply.
Without a word, he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes searching mine with an ease that wasn’t there just days ago.
Then he leans down and kisses me.
It’s slow. Unhurried. The kind of kiss that feels less like a question and more like a promise.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead lightly against mine.
“I’ll see you when I get home.”
Something inside me settles.
I smile. “I’ll be here.”
He smiles back before giving Liana’s tiny foot a gentle squeeze.
“You take good care of her today, okay?”
Liana answers with a sleepy coo.
Dean laughs, grabs his briefcase, and heads for the elevator. I watch the doors close behind him.
By the time Liana drifts off to sleep for her nap, the penthouse has settled into a peaceful quiet.
Her bedroom door is cracked just enough for the soft melody from the sound machine to spill into the hallway, blending with the music I have playing through the speakers in the kitchen.
I hum along without even realizing it.
A mug is soaking in the sink while I’m chopping strawberries for later, absent-mindedly swaying to the music as the late afternoon sun pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows, turning the marble countertops gold.
For the first time in what feels like forever, life feels wonderfully ordinary. The soft ding of the elevator is almost lost beneath the music.
I keep humming to myself, turning as I reach for a bowl on the top shelf.
A quiet laugh sounds behind me.
Before I can react, I feel Dean’s hands settle gently at my waist.
I smile before I even turn around.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” he says, his voice warm with exhaustion and relief.
He rests his forehead lightly against my temple for a moment, breathing out a long sigh that sounds like he’s finally able to let the day go.
“Tough day?” I ask.
He groans. “The longest.”
I turn in his arms until we’re facing each other.
His tie is loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, and despite the expensive suit and polished shoes, there’s something different about him now than there was in the morning.
Less CEO, more Dean.
“You look tired.”
“I was.” His eyes meet mine. “Then I came home.”
A smile spreads across my face. “That’s a pretty smooth line, Mr. Ledger.”
“It’s not a line.” He brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his expression softening. “It’s the truth.”
For a long moment, neither of us says anything. The music continues quietly in the background. Somewhere down the hall, the baby monitor lets out a faint burst of white noise before settling again.
Dean glances toward Liana’s room, then back at me. “Still asleep?”
I nod. “She wore herself out.”
“Good.” He smiles. “I was hoping I might get a few minutes with you first.”
Heat rises to my cheeks. “What did you have in mind?”
Dean hooks a finger in the waist of my jeans and pulls me forward. “I think I’d like another taste of your sweet pussy.”
My breath catches in my throat.
No man has ever talked to me like this. He has a dirty mouth, but my body seems to love it.
He unbuttons my pants and pulls them down, along with my panties, to my ankles.
Instead of having me step out of them, he places his hands on my ass and pushes my hips forward.
His tongue licks as far as he can go between my thighs with them pushed together.
I don’t know what the position does, but I feel so much more sensitive like this.
When his tongue reaches my clit, I let out a long, slow moan. My head falls back, and my hand reaches for his hair.
“Eyes on me. I only lick this pussy when you’re watching.”
His words once again make me even more wet. I feel it between my thighs. I lift my head up and lock my eyes with his, desperate for more.
He moves his hands off of my behind and brings his thumbs to my folds, pulling them apart and exposing my clit fully to him.
He starts to flick his flexed tongue, hard and quick, against my clit.
“Dean,” I gasp as each flick brings me closer to orgasm.
Then he buries himself against me, moving his head back and forth as his tongue moves.
I get onto my tippy-toes, desperate for more. When he finally sucks my clit, my orgasm hits me like a bucket of ice water. Every nerve in my body takes notice.
I ride it out while his eyes never leave mine, watching every single second of my reaction until my body nearly goes limp against the counter.
For a long moment, neither of us says anything.
The apartment is impossibly quiet around us, the only sounds the soft music still drifting through the speakers and the occasional hum of the refrigerator.
He pulls my jeans and panties back up and buttons them for me.
I rest my forehead against his shoulder, trying to steady my breathing while his arms wrap loosely around my waist.
It feels safe, like, somehow, in the span of an afternoon, I’ve stepped into a life I’ve been dreaming about since I was fifteen.
Dean brushes his fingers slowly up and down my back before letting out a long breath.
“Aubrey?” he says, voice sounding heavy.
“Mmm?”
“Can I tell you something?”
I lift my head to find his expression has changed.
The teasing smile is gone, replaced by the thoughtful look I’ve come to recognize whenever he’s working through something in his head.
“Of course,” I tell him.
His eyes drift toward the windows overlooking Manhattan. “I’ve been trying to figure out if I’ve completely lost my mind.”
A nervous laugh escapes me, as I’m not sure where he’s going with this. “I think we both have.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m serious.”
I wait for him to continue.
“I’ve spent my entire adult life planning everything.” He shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “Five-year business plans. Exit strategies. Contingency plans. Every decision has a dozen backup options. And then”—he looks back at me— “you happened.”
My heart squeezes as I wait for him to clarify.
He continues, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You don’t?” I question, trying not to show the panic that I’m currently feeling.
“I’ve never done anything like this.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve never brought someone into my home like this. I’ve never dated someone who worked for me. I’ve never …” He pauses. “I’ve never cared this quickly.”
I study his face. The confidence that’s always there in the boardroom is gone. This is just Dean. A man trying very hard to do the right thing.
“I keep thinking about how this looks. You’re twenty-two. I’m thirty-four.”
“I know,” I reply, not sure what else to say.
“You live here.”
I nod.
“You’re taking care of my daughter.”
“Dean …”
“And technically,” he says with a frustrated exhale, “you work for me.”
He lets the words hang between us.
“If anyone found out tomorrow”—his jaw tightens— “they’d see a selfish billionaire, sleeping with the woman he employs.”
The sadness in his voice catches me off guard. Not because he’s worried about himself, but because he’s worried about me.
“They’d think I took advantage of you.”
I reach for his hand, threading my fingers through his. “I don’t care what they’d think.”
“I do.” His answer is immediate. “I care because I’d never forgive myself if I put you in a position where people questioned your character.”
I smile softly. “You’ve been carrying all of that around by yourself?”
He laughs under his breath. “Welcome to my brain.”
I step closer until there’s barely any space between us. “Can I tell you what I hear?”
He nods. “I hear a man who’s worrying so much about other people’s opinions that he’s forgotten the fact that we’re just enjoying ourselves right now.”
His eyes soften.
“I don’t need you to have the next six months figured out. Tomorrow, you’ll go to work.”
He smiles faintly. “I probably will.”
“I’ll take care of Liana.”
“You definitely will,” he replies.
“You’ll come home.”
“I hope so.”
“And we’ll figure out tomorrow”—I shrug with a grin— “tomorrow.”
He studies me for several seconds. “That’s your plan?”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.” I laugh quietly. “You’re already pretending to know what you’re doing, raising a baby.”
That finally earns me a real laugh.
“I suppose that’s true.”
“So, why are you trying to solve our entire future after”—my cheeks warm— “one weekend?”
He reaches up, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“Okay then. So, we just don’t try to figure anything out right now. No promises we can’t keep. No labels we have to define today. No five-year plan,” I add.
His smile grows. “You’re asking a CEO not to make a five-year plan.”
“I’m asking Dean not to.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I think I like Aubrey a lot better than my board of directors.”
“I certainly hope so.”
He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “One day at a time?”
“One day at a time.”
For the first time since he started talking, the tension leaves his shoulders.
And somehow, without solving a single problem, everything feels lighter.