Chapter 16
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I work late through the night to implement the new changes to the website. Nolan and Gary are still fast asleep when I finally stand up and take my victory stretch. The blanket I had wrapped around me falls to the floor, reminding me that I am very much, in fact, naked.
I could get used to this.
Nolan’s L-shaped desk does take up a lot of real estate in this office, but I identify a corner that could work for me. One with an ocean view, too. Besides, I’d hate to give up the larger desk when it’s so accommodating for orgasms.
Fuck, am I really thinking about staying?
He called me mine.
But it wasn’t some controlling, possessive thing. It was his hot, sexy, protective side speaking. And that, I’m one hundred and ten percent on board with.
I bend to retrieve the blanket, nearly bonking my forehead on a drawer pull. I can’t help myself. I want to see if his readers are neatly arranged, off to one side, and possibly labeled.
I tug the drawer open and burst into laughter. Everything is meticulously organized, down to the paperclips that are all laid in the same direction. Does the man understand the mess he’s about to invite into his life?
But it’s the folder all the way to the right that has my attention. One labeled Trust Fund Documentation.
It’s obvious Nolan has some money. You don’t get a property with the view he has or a truck that could double as an Army tank if you’re broke. But wouldn’t a trust fund imply someone set aside money for him? When I asked him about his family, he said he doesn’t have any. That he claims.
My nosy self remembers the sofa table and the drawer I tried to open the other night when Nolan stopped me.
I wrap the blanket around me and tiptoe out to the living room.
Normally, I wouldn’t snoop. But I am considering uprooting my whole life, leaving Nana behind, and moving to Alaska. For a man. I think I’m entitled to a little detective work before I make major life altering decisions, right?
I tug the drawer open, wincing when it makes a screeching sound. There’s a stack of random papers, mail, and a single wedding invitation. I pull this from the drawer and try to push it shut as quietly as possible.
My eyes grow twice their size when I see the groom’s name is Nolan’s. And the wedding date is…yesterday.
“Can I ask about the website, or do I need to start the coffee first?” Nolan’s voice catches me by surprise, and I shove the wedding invitation under a throw pillow on the couch, just in time for the man to walk into the room, naked and…hard.
“I have an idea,” I say, dropping the blanket and hurrying toward him, desperate for him not to see the invitation.
I need time to wrap my head around what I saw before I bring it up.
I grab his hand and pull him into the kitchen, right to the Keurig.
“Why don’t we take care of both needs at once this morning? And then we’ll talk about the website.”
He moves behind me as I sift through the K-cup options, and I feel his cock nudge my entrance before I’ve made my selection. I’m so turned on I forget all about the trust fund, the wedding invite, and the coffee.
I grip the edge of the granite countertop and pop my ass back toward Nolan’s body. He slides in with savage ease, the sensation so fucking erotic and comforting. Another jumble of juxtaposing feelings, but I no longer question it. That’s just how this thing is with Nolan. Or…was.
I shake the thought away, refusing to think about anything other than this moment. If this really is the last time, I want to enjoy it.
Nolan reaches a hand around my waist, pressing his chest against my back. “I thought you were making coffee,” he says, fiddling with my clit as he thrusts his length in and out.
“In a minute,” I pant as his other hand grabs a boob.
I rise on tiptoes to better meet his angle, relishing in the way he feels inside me. The way his body feels around me. I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to leave. But if he’s in love with another woman—
“Bree?” he whispers against my ear.
“Yeah?”
“Come for me.”
His hands move to my hips, and I move my own between my legs as he punishes me with that cock in the best way. If I’d been able to push the start button on the Keurig, I’d still have come before my coffee was done.
I come so hard the twenty-four-hour sunlight disappears for several seconds, replaced by an array of stars and fireworks.
Nolan comes seconds later, holding himself as deep as he can inside me. He fills me, once again. Staking a claim I’ll never be able to deny.
Because even though I’m convinced this could never actually work, he already has my heart.