24. Graham #2
Her mention of work makes my skin prickle.
With the two clients Kieran helped me get in touch with, I only need four more within six months.
Getting the company into the black is the most important thing, but retaining employees and managing our current clients is a task in and of itself.
Rosay was the perfect candidate to take that off my plate, but knowing how her heart is set on teaching, I want to see her flourishing in the thing she’s best at.
While I want her as my right hand in life, I don’t want her to give up on her dreams for something that doesn’t fill her.
I learned early on that settling for something you don’t want can only end in disaster—or in my case, abandonment.
“It’s a lot different than I expected, but I enjoy the work. I like helping companies who are struggling find their way back to where they’re thriving.”
“And you’re damn good at it,” she says, tapping her foot against my leg. “You didn’t get the name ‘Golden Graham’ by sitting on your ass like most of the board.”
I chuckle at the moniker. “I wear that name with pride. I worked my ass off to get where I am, and now that my dad is sick, I have even more reason to do my best.”
And keep this job.
Our food arrives, stalling our conversation.
Though she ordered the lamb, Rosay dips her spoon into my Bacalao, giving a little shimmy as she chews on the garlicky salted cod.
When I can no longer stand how far she is away from me, I pull her onto my lap and push my bowl in front of her.
Whatever spell she has me under, I don’t want it to ever break.
“This is so good.” She sighs and relaxes into my hold as I feed her another spoonful. “I should’ve ordered this instead.”
I slide my hand along her leopard print dress and squeeze her waist. “As long as you keep making those slurping sounds, you can have the rest of it.”
When our entrees are finished, she says, “Are you ready for dessert?”
“Can I just lay you out on this table? Because if so, then absolutely.”
She ignores my statement and waves over the server.
With one nod to the chef, the table is filled with red wine sorbet, a slice of Chardonnay caramel cake, and a wine-infused fruit salad.
I groan at how delicious everything looks, and once we’ve devoured every last bite, I know I’ll be thinking about these desserts for a long time to come.
“Come with me,” Rosay says, taking my hand and leading me out of the winery.
I’m blo wn away by how the winery is set up to appeal to every kind of guest. We pass a patio filled with tables so patrons can enjoy the view, a gazebo with speakers attached to the frame for live music and end up down at the distillery.
I hold Rosay’s hand the entire time, refusing to let go.
I’ve been trying to hype myself up since dinner to talk to her about continuing this relationship past the weekend, but every time the words form on my tongue, I freeze.
The name ‘Good Time Graham’ plays on a loop inside my mind, convincing me that’s all I am to her, that I wasn’t enough for Bethany, and I am definitely not enough for this woman who is everything.
She leads me through the fermentation room to the extraction room, explaining each process in depth as if she works there.
I assume growing up around it lends to her knowledge, but it’s as if she’s stepped into the role of vintner.
Curiosity prickles my neck. Why is she going into so much detail about the place?
I wonder if maybe she’s stalling the conversation we need to have.
We enter the filtration room, and I gape at the hulking pot stills lining both walls.
“Kieran was having trouble figuring out what size tanks he needed and how many could fit inside the space, so he called me to help with the calculations.”
“Were you always good at math?”
“Yeah.” She shrugs, stopping in front of a still.
“My mom would always turn counting into a game. If she wanted to teach me about volume, she’d fill up a jar with gumballs and make me do equations to figure out how many could fit inside.
She’d even cut my pizza into smaller slices to help me understand fractions. ”
“Sounds like she made learning fun and engaging.”
“That’s why I love tutoring. Each kid needs something different for the math to click inside their head. For some, it’s the pizza and gum ball method, and for others it’s figuring out how much distance their character in a game can shoot an arrow.”
Her smile stretches, and she radiates happiness. I love the way she lights up when talking about teaching. It’s obviously her passion, and it solidifies my stance that she deserves to be doing what she loves. Kids need teachers who love teaching, who can help them love learning.
I don’t care what I need to do to make it happen, Rosay will achieve her dreams.
And I want to be beside her for every dream she has.
“And this is where the wine is.”
I stop her as she opens the wine cellar, cool air wafting my way. “Once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”
“You haven’t experienced this one,” she says, disappearing into the room. I take a moment to breathe and sort out my thoughts. This night is quickly getting away from me, and the longer I wait to talk to her about us, the closer it gets to this being over.
“Can we stop and talk for a second?” I ask, searching for her in the dark room. Her tropical scent lures me through the labyrinth of bottle shelves, and I flinch when her warm hand wraps around my mouth.
“No more talking,” she whispers into my ear as her other hand works my pants button.
Chills skitter up my spine, not from the cool air, but from how simply hearing her voice can fill me with desire.
I clamp my lips between my teeth as her hand dives into my boxers and finds me hard as steel.
Precum beads the slit, and my knees buckle when her thumb slides across my piercing, smearing the liquid over my sensitive head.
The room is so dark I can barely see the outline of her body as she comes around my front.
She begins to lower to the ground, and I catch her arm, intent on telling her the ground is too hard, but she halts my words with a heart stopping kis s that leaves my lips tingling and my head swimming.
The first touch of her tongue makes every muscle in my body clench, blood rushing directly to my groin.
I grip onto the shelf in front of me for dear life as she swirls around the tip, flipping my piercing with each go around.
I shudder out a breath when she finally takes me into her mouth, the warm heat of her cheeks welcoming me home.
I know it’s poor form to tell someone you love them in the heat of passion, but it takes almost as much strength not to tell her how much I adore her as it does for me to hold off my orgasm.
Her little hum as she works her way down my length makes me want to thrust into her inviting mouth, and my quads scream with the need to move as I hold myself back.
I wish I could turn on the light to see her, to watch my cock disappear past her full pink lips.
Rosay’s jaw loosens, and my lungs vacate my body when she takes me deep into her throat.
The control I’ve had shreds, and I grip her hair in my hand, holding her right where she is so I can touch her.
“You take me so well, baby,” I say, caressing her neck. “I can feel my piercing down your pretty little throat.” Her teeth slide against my cock, mixing pleasure and pain as she draws in a breath and deep throats me again. My legs shake, and I know I can’t hold off much longer. “I’m close.”
Like that was the permission she needed, her delicate fingers wrap around my length, and she works me in time with her mouth, the perfect amount of friction to have me seeing stars.
A sudden flush of warmth spreads through my chest, overtaking the fluttering in my heart and stomach.
I focus on the euphoric rhythm of her mouth and hand, edging closer to release.
The moment her finger puts pressure on my perineum, fire blazes up my spine, shudders of pleasure jerking my body as I shoot hot ropes of cum down her throat.
“Fuck, ” I choke out, closing my eyes to better focus on the intense sensations. The gentle stroke of her tongue centers me as I suck in short breaths. Her hair is disheveled, and I swipe loose tendrils out of her face and pull her up to me, pressing her into the shelf and ravaging her mouth.
“Told you you’ve never experienced a wine cellar like this one.”
I reluctantly slip my cock back into my pants and help her fix her dress, massaging her knees and brushing off any dirt that got on them. “You can say that again.”
She walks toward the door with a sway to her hips like she knows she just rocked my world. “Plus, I figured it was better for you to see what the winery has to offer so you can best manage their portfolio.”
My mind races to catch up. “What do you mean, manage their portfolio? Your family doesn’t invest with Thompson.”
She tosses a smile over her shoulder. “They do now.”
I blink a few times to reset my brain. Rosay has worked for Thompson for years prior to me coming on board, yet she’s never asked her family to invest with us. But she did that…for me? I press my fist against my pecs, stemming the rise of emotion crowing my chest.
“When did you do that?” I ask. “ Why did you do that?”
She stops outside the building. “You’ve done a lot for me the past couple of days, supporting me with my family.” She chews on her bottom lip, and I reach up and pull it down. “I just wanted to find some way to thank you for your help.”
Though everything she’s saying is true, it’s the words she’s not saying that fills my veins with ice.
I don’t want her to think I need her family to invest with Thompson for me to invest in her, in us.
I open my mouth to tell her as much when my phone rings in my pocket.
A glance at the screen revea ls it’s Preston, most likely calling for an update, so I send it to voicemail.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, catching her on the short walk back to the rental, clasping our hands together. “I already have the only Wilmington I need.”