Chapter 16
sixteen
. . .
Henley
I dropped my purse on the dresser and paused at the mirror hanging on the wall to inspect my cheek.
You would think there was a golf ball-sized bruise by the way Easton was overreacting. It was a little swollen with some light bruising.
“This is not that bad. I was expecting much worse by the way you were looking at me.” I moved to sit beside him on the edge of the bed, and he turned to put the ice back on my face.
“It shouldn’t have happened. It took everything in me not to knock his drunk ass out. I just didn’t want to make more of a scene than he’d already made.”
“He was like that as a teenager, too.”
“How so?”
“He doesn’t listen. He’s sloppy. Loud. He knocked a cocktail on me at his father’s second wedding that I attended with my dad. Will and my father have forever tried to broker that deal, but it’s not in the cards.”
“Broker what deal?” he asked.
“Me and Jamison dating. My father would love to merge the two families, which is never going to happen. I’m guessing after tonight, he’ll stop pushing for that.”
“One would hope.” He shook his head in disgust. “He wouldn’t be at that firm if his daddy wasn’t a managing partner. He’s a train wreck.”
“I think my dad was really disgusted tonight. I’m guessing there’s going to be some type of consequence after this.”
“I hope so. That behavior wouldn’t fly at any firm, and if he can’t control himself, he has no business attending events.” Easton lifted the ice pack to check my cheek.
“I think I’m good. We can take it off for a little bit.”
“Does it hurt?” he asked, and the concern in his eyes made my chest squeeze.
“Not bad. I’ve been hit in the face with a tennis ball, and that hurt a lot more than this.” I chuckled.
“You’re tougher than you look, Princess.” He pushed to his feet and placed the ice pack in the ice bucket sitting on the minibar.
“I hate that nickname, by the way.”
“Princess?” He pulled off his suit coat and tossed it on the chair, before moving to stand in front of me with his hands on his hips. I could see every muscle in his shoulders strain against the crisp white fabric. “You don’t like it?”
“Do I like that you think that I’m a rich, spoiled princess? Not really.” I leaned back on my elbows and kicked off my stilettos.
“That’s not why I call you that. Have you never researched the qualities of a princess?” His voice was all tease as he came to sit on the bed beside me.
“Always the attorney.” I laughed. “Are you expecting me to believe that you’ve researched the qualities of a princess?”
“I told you I’ll always be straight with you. I don’t lie. I have no reason to. If I thought you were a rich, spoiled woman, I’d have no problem telling you that.” He lay flat on his back, and I did the same, and before I knew it, we were both turning on our sides and facing one another.
“So tell me the qualities of a princess.”
He reached over, his fingers gently tracing along the bruise on my cheek. “My sister, Emerson, loved that movie, Princess Diaries, and made me watch it too many times to count.”
I smiled. The feel of his fingertips on my skin was so soothing that I struggled to keep my eyes open. “I love that movie.”
“Right. Anyway, Emmy reminded me every day for months that princesses are kind and humble. They’re good listeners, and they treat others with respect.
” His lips turned up in the corners. “That’s how I see you, and that’s why I call you Princess.
I don’t think you’re spoiled at all. I think you’re regal and strong.
I think your work ethic could hold its own against anyone at the firm, including me.
And don’t even get me started on how fucking good you look in that pickleball skirt. ”
My teeth sank into my bottom lip as I processed his words. “You aren’t going to mention my actual pickleball skills?”
“You’re all right,” he teased, as his thumb moved to my bottom lip, moving it from one side to the other.
“You’re all right, too. And I’m fine with the nickname now that you explained the meaning.”
“I’m not a complete asshole, Henley.”
“I know you aren’t. I don’t even think you’re an evil genius anymore.” I nipped at the tip of his thumb, and he chuckled when he pulled it back to graze my jaw.
“What am I, then?” he asked, and there was something very earnest in his gray eyes when he looked at me.
“I think you’re a really good guy, but you don’t want anyone to know it.”
“Maybe I’m only that way with you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t fucking know. But I like you. More than I want to.”
“I like you, too. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” I whispered, scooting closer.
“I want to kiss you again. But I don’t know what it means, so I’m guessing we shouldn’t go there.”
“Do you know what it means every time you kiss a woman?” I asked.
He laughed, tugging me closer. “Such a smartass. I just don’t want to fuck this up and make things awkward. We work together. Your father is my boss.”
“And this involves no one but us. You want to kiss me. I want to kiss you. No one needs to know. And if it never happens again, we just look back on it as a fond memory. There are no expectations here, Easton. I know who you are. You’ve been very honest about it.”
His gaze searched mine. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Henley.”
I didn’t hesitate. I pushed forward, my hands tangling in his hair, as I tugged him down and kissed him hard.
He rolled onto his back, taking me with him as I moved on top of him.
His hands slid from my hair, down my back, and over my ass as he gave me a squeeze, and I chuckled and pulled back. “Did you just squeeze my ass?”
“This ass is a work of art. I think about it all the fucking time. I’ve wanted to give it a squeeze since the day you walked into my office.”
He tugged me back down, his mouth on mine again, as we kissed and made out for the longest time. His hands were everywhere, as if he were trying to memorize every curve of my body.
My neck.
My arms.
My back.
My ass.
I ground up against him, frustrated that I couldn’t get traction with my fitted black dress.
And then he did the most unexpected thing, and his hands found the hem of my dress.
He slowly tugged it up, and I pulled back to look at him.
My dress was gathered around my waist, exposing my pink lace panties, and my legs settled on each side of his hips.
“I want to see you come apart, grinding up against my dick while you kiss me.”
My breaths were coming fast. “You have a filthy mouth, Chadwick.”
“Use my cock, Princess. Get yourself off for me.” His voice was gruff, and I nodded slowly.
His hand tangled in my hair as he pulled me down. My mouth crashed into his, my lips parting on instinct as his tongue slipped inside, and I started rocking against him.
He was long and thick and hard beneath me.
I couldn’t even believe I was doing this.
I was dry-humping this man with my dress gathered around my waist. My face was swollen and bruised, but here I was grinding up against him.
My mentor.
The man who drove me crazy most days.
And I didn’t even care because nothing had ever felt better.
He had one hand on the side of my neck as he took the kiss deeper.
His other hand caressed my butt as I continued moving against him.
Faster.
Harder.
Desperate for release.
My body started tingling, my head slightly dizzy. I pulled back the slightest bit as white lights exploded behind my eyes, and I gasped his name. I went right over the edge as the most euphoric orgasm tore through my body.
I’d never experienced anything like it.
And we hadn’t even had sex.
He continued rocking me against him, his hands running over the fabric covering my breasts, as I rode out every last bit of pleasure. I fell forward, my chest pressed to his, and my face nuzzled in the crook of his neck.
His hands ran up and down my back, as my breathing slowed.
I lifted my head to look at him, not feeling one ounce of embarrassment, which was shocking.
We weren’t a couple.
We were just two people who were attracted to one another.
This was what people my age were supposed to do, right?
He was a guy who had flings.
One-nighters.
Hookups.
I could get on board with this.
I’d just had the most amazing orgasm of my life.
It was a win-win.
I reached between us for his zipper, but he wrapped his hand around my wrist to stop me. “Not tonight, Princess. Tonight was about you.”
I groaned and rolled off of him, lying on my back beside him now, as I pulled my dress down and covered my face with my hands.
The embarrassment I wasn’t feeling thirty seconds ago was here with a vengeance now.
“Oh, God. Did that just turn you off?”
“Turn me off?” His voice was deep, and he tugged my hand down and rolled onto his side to look at me.
“Are you fucking kidding me? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
You riding my cock right over the lace of your pretty panties and the fabric of my dress slacks.
Needy and desperate for me. I fucking loved it. ”
“Yet you don’t want more?”
“Henley.” He paused, as I squeezed my eyes closed. “Look at me. Now.”
My eyelids slowly lifted, and I forced myself to meet his gaze. “I loved that. Hell, if I were trapped on a deserted island, I could get off to images of you on top of me, rubbing up against my dick for the rest of my life, and be very content.”
“So then, why do you want to stop?”
“Because you and I view sex differently.” He tucked the loose strand of hair that had broken free behind my ear. “I don’t want to push you or complicate things.”
“I wanted to make you feel good, too,” I said.
“You don’t get it.” His lips turned up in the corners.
“Watching you get off was a fucking gift that I didn’t even know I needed.
You made me feel good. But if you unzip my pants right now, I won’t want to stop.
And one of us needs to think straight. This isn’t the norm for you, and if you wake up with regrets, it’s going to make things very awkward for us at work. ”