18. Natalie #2
The proximity alone is enough to send my heart thudding in my chest.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“You tell me.” My voice comes out too sharp, too raw, and I hate that he hears it.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“Mom wanted the spotlight. I said no. Then I thought...maybe it’d get your attention.
Looks like it worked. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be upset.
Right?” He says it like he’s solved something.
Like he’s caught me out. I guess he has.
I’m great at pretending with everyone else.
I can bluff, charm, carry on like nothing’s wrong.
Not with him. I can’t fake a thing when he looks at me like this.
“Got me,” I say, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.
“That’s a start. Now give me the rest.”
“The rest?”
“Stop fighting this,” he says. “Tell me you’re mine.”
My throat tightens. He leans in, just slightly. Still not touching me. I look at him now, at his stupid, beautiful face, and I can’t fight it anymore.
“Fine,” I say.
His brow lifts. “Fine?”
I shrug, like it’s no big deal, even though it absolutely is. “Yes, Henry. Fine. I’m yours.”
“My girlfriend?”
“Yes,” I say, with another shrug. Smaller this time.
“You could try sounding a little more enthusiastic.”
I pull him in. The kiss starts slow. It’s warm, dizzying and I can taste the champagne on his lips. His fingers find the base of my neck, then slip into my hair. Finally, I pull back just enough to speak. “That enthusiastic enough for you?”
"I missed that smart mouth," he breathes against my lips before claiming them again. The world narrows to the heat of him, the space between us vanishing until there is only his body against mine.
The hard press of his erection sends a jolt of pure heat through me and my mind fixes on what’s possibly the most reckless idea I’ve ever had. My fingers twist into his shirt.
“I need you,” I whisper, my eyes flicking to the half-open door, then back to him. A dare, more than a plea.
“Here?” A low, incredulous laugh slips out, his expression somewhere between wicked and amused. “You never do what I expect.”
He gives me a look as to say go on then, and we step inside. The door swings shut behind us with a soft click.
The room is small, dimly lit by a single bulb. A wooden bench runs along one wall, worn but sturdy. It’s not glamorous, but it’s private. And right now, that’s all that matters.
Henry’s hands are everywhere. My waist, my hair, the small of my back. In one seamless motion, he lifts me onto the bench, pushing my dress up my thighs. Then he pauses, reaches into his jacket, and pulls a condom from his wallet.
My fingers find his belt, fumbling with the buckle in my rush. He gently moves my hand aside and takes over, the soft clink of metal giving way to the rasp of his zipper.
My breath catches as he pushes his boxer briefs down. I bite my lip. He’s…perfect. Long and thick, and so hard it makes my head spin. As he rolls the condom on, I push my dress up the rest of the way and pull my underwear aside.
His knuckles brush my inner thigh and a shiver runs through me. I know that touch. It’s the start of a slow tease. But I’m too far gone for patience.
“Just get on with it,” I say, pulling him closer by the hips.
He only smirks, that uneven grin. Then he kisses me again. I want to protest, to tell him to hurry, but then he’s there, pressing against me. For a second, I’m not sure he’ll fit. Then he pushes in, and heat floods through me, scattering every thought into pure sensation.
He starts slow, one hand gripping my hip, his thumb finding my clit in slow circles. I don’t want slow. He must hear it in my breath, because a second later, he gives me what I need. He thrusts harder, deeper, filling me until thought dissolves into light.
His rhythm turns relentless and then his thumb finds me again, moving in sync with every drive of his hips. Pleasure builds fast, coiling tight and hot inside me.
The room blurs, but I still find him. His gaze locked on mine, fierce and focused, like nothing else exists. That look is all it takes.
I grab his shoulders as pleasure takes over, wave after wave.
I bite my lip, swallowing the sound that rises in my throat.
I tighten around him, and his rhythm stutters for a heartbeat before he gives in too.
The sound he makes is low and rough, stripped of control.
One last thrust, a shudder, and he’s gone with me.
For a long moment, everything is perfectly still. He stays buried inside me, his breath hot against my neck, our hearts hammering against each other in a ragged, uneven rhythm.
Slowly, he pulls back. He takes care of the condom, wrapping it in a linen napkin from the stack beside us while I put myself back together.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod. “I mean, minus the complete abandonment of dignity? Yeah. Pretty good.”
Henry turns his palm to lace his fingers through mine. “Let’s get back out there,” he says.
He starts to lead us out just like this.
Hand in hand. A jolt of pure panic shoots through me.
He thinks we’re going back as us. My world isn’t ready for that.
Cosmo would lose his mind. I need time to prepare him, and to stop this from becoming gossip that overshadows our relaunch.
Not to mention Silvia. What will she think?
“Henry, wait.” My hand tightens around his. “Let’s keep this between us for now.”
“Why would we do that?” he asks.
“I just need a little time to talk to Cosmo first. To manage this before it turns into a mess.”
He studies me, something like hurt flickering in his eyes.
“It’s temporary,” I say.
He nods slowly. “If that’s what you need.”
His quiet acceptance only makes the guilt worse, but I push it down.
“Should I go first?” I ask, already heading for the door. I don’t wait for his answer. The latch clicks softly behind me.
I slip back into the gala and stop short.
Cosmo’s deep in conversation with a top editor from our must-get list, the kind of person who has the power to make or break us.
She’s sitting comfortably in my seat. I flick back into work mode.
There’s no way I can interrupt them now, so I take a detour to the champagne table and grab a fresh glass.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Henry slipping back in. He heads straight for his seat without a glance in my direction. Isla turns toward him immediately but he leans back and gives her the kind of cold shoulder that feels entirely deliberate. I shouldn’t enjoy it. I do.
I watch him for a few beats, pretending I’m admiring the floral arrangements or whatever’s nearby. He takes out his phone. A second later, mine buzzes.
Henry: Miss you already. My place after?
Henry: Oh, and it seems I lasted more than a minute inside you…
Natalie: I said you wouldn’t last two minutes…
Natalie: I was wrong.
Henry: I guess there’s a first time for everything.
A smile flashes across my face before I can stop it.
My eyes dart back to his table but it isn’t Henry watching me.
It’s Silvia. She’s perfectly still, her gaze locked on me.
I quickly look away, pretending to survey the room as if admiring the crowd, but when I sneak another glance, her eyes haven’t moved.
A cold knot of fear tightens in my chest. Does she know? Has she already figured us out? No. She can’t have. I’m just being paranoid.
Something tells me she wouldn’t be pleased. She’d know I don’t belong in their world. She’d smell it on me, even if Henry and the others can’t. That’s the other thing. He doesn’t even know where I come from. Part of me wants to keep it that way. The other part knows I can’t.