5. Emerson
EMERSON
Iworked most of the night, my brain too busy to shut down for even a second and my body shifting quickly into deadline mode. My schedule is carefully designed and executed so I can avoid this as much as possible, but that’s just not in the cards right now.
I’m sure Garrett thought I was ignoring him last night, and maybe I was a little, but Andrews International is my life, and much like Vegas, the business doesn’t sleep.
Des woke up to no fewer than thirty messages of varying levels of importance that all need to be completed on top of his normal day.
Our company might have started out with just managing funds for international clients traveling from coast to coast and around the world, but it’s only a fraction of what we do now. Real estate, rental properties, and other various acquisitions make us both highly exclusive and sought after.
Clients come to us—not the other way around.
And we’re more than established enough to handpick through those clients when they land on our doorstep. It’s also allowed us to expand our philanthropic arm of the company and to extend our reach in the community to help provide housing assistance and other services.
Despite not going into the office today, I can’t completely veer from my normal routine, so I choose what I’d consider business casual and a softer shade of red matte lipstick called Rose Petal that I only wear on days like this.
Satisfied, I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen to find Garrett scrolling on his phone, leaned against the counter, holding a full cup of coffee, and surrounded by the scent of burning food.
“Wow, hey, can I get you some coffee?” Garrett asks, his gaze sweeping over me, lingering on my lips before returning to my eyes.
“That’d be great, thank you.” Tilting my head slightly to the side, I cock my head. “Is something burning?”
“It was breakfast.” He scrunches up his nose and gives the dishes in the sink a dirty look. “The pans are soaking and I ordered half the menu of a local place. Theo is going to pick it up.”
“How sweet of him,” I muse, accepting a cup of black coffee and inhaling the rich scent.
“Sure, if you ignore the fact that he yelled at me for using the stove unattended.” Garrett rolls his eyes, his dark hair falling across his forehead. The urge to push it back is nearly overwhelming, but it’s too early for me to give in to my husband.
I have no doubt that if I told Garrett to get on his knees right here, he’d do it without a second thought. His borderline obsessive need to please me is a hell of an ego boost with both of us getting off on our little power dynamic.
“Does the stove often give you problems?”
“No, I mean sometimes, but not usually breakfast.”
“Noted.” I grin over the rim of my mug, content to drink it black after barely getting any sleep.
“He’s also bringing your rings.”
“My rings?” I ask, unintentionally glancing at my left hand and frowning at the simple white gold band I’d gotten that night in Vegas.
“I picked the set out before I went to see you yesterday. They put a rush on it.”
“Garrett, I don’t need anything else.” I hold up my hand to illustrate my point. “This is fine.”
“If we were just regular people, I’d agree, but there’s already a ton of articles floating around about us and I don’t want rings to be a hot-button topic, so I’m going to need you to humor me.”
I hate that this is another point I’ll have to concede, that for the first time in as long as I can remember, I wish I was normal.
My mother didn’t live long enough to see Andrews International break through the glass ceiling, and I can’t help but wonder if their marriage would have endured the long hours and stress.
Would they have made it?
Would Andrews International be what it is today if she’d lived?
They’re not questions I’ve ever put much weight on but maybe I should have. Marriage still isn’t for me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make the most of it while I’m in it.
“Fine,” I tell him, placing my mug on the island and striding toward where Garrett is still leaning against the dark granite countertop.
Plucking the phone from his hand, I wrap my arms around his neck and lean into him, our bodies pressed together as I kiss him the way that always seems to get his attention.
Groaning into my mouth, Garrett’s hands fall to my ass, cupping and kneading and grinding me against him.
“Tell me what you need,” he pleads, one hand traveling over my hip and up my side, tracing the underside of my breast with his fingertips.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I growl, pulling back, another rush of heat going straight between my legs at the feral look in his eyes.
“I can fire him.”
“No,” I sigh, “he tolerates you and we don’t have time to find a replacement.” With a wicked smirk, I add, “I will have to change these panties though.” Taking a step back out of his reach, I allow my hips to sway a little more than usual.
For his benefit, of course.
“Later.” That five-letter word is a growled declaration that has a shiver racing down my spine.
Backing toward the stairs, I let my gaze rake over him, lingering on his cock before sliding up to meet his gaze. “Well then, maybe I’ll just forget the panties altogether…”
Spinning quickly, the click of my heels on the stairs echoes as I leave Garrett, his muffled fuck putting a smile on my lips as I go.
Looks like my day just got a whole lot better.