Charming Co-Worker - Jeannine Colette Page 0,49
out his pleasure and drops his head to my shoulder.
Our breathing labors as he slides in and out. My limbs go numb, and I drop back, not able to—or wanting to—move in any way. If I could, I’d bottle this feeling, sell it on every shelf in the world, and make millions.
I never knew what it felt like to truly make love or what the difference would be between sex and love. Now, I know, and I never want to go back to anything else.
Hunter rolls off of me but doesn’t lose his grip around me as he pulls me into his side, kissing my neck. “I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers.
I entangle my fingers with his. “Good thing, because right here is exactly where I want to be.”
Chapter Twelve
We take our time in packing up, neither of us in a rush to get back to the city—and reality. Christmas at the Johnstones’ was pretty amazing. I’m even leaving with an arsenal of inappropriate jokes to use next year.
Hunter’s hand is on my thigh as we head on I-95 toward the city. It hasn’t left its spot since he returned it after raising the volume on the radio forty minutes ago.
My phone dings again in my purse, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, knowing whoever it is can wait until I’m home.
“Someone’s popular today,” Hunter says, glancing at the floorboard of the car.
“I was hoping it would stop if I ignored it.”
“It could be your family.”
“I spoke to them yesterday.”
“That would sound like enough if you weren’t sitting with a man who talks to his mother every single day.”
“Really?” I ask surprisingly. Although, now that I’ve met Nancy and seen their bond, I shouldn’t be surprised. “Fine …”
He laughs as I finally give in and sit up to reach for my purse. I have two texts from Branson.
Morning, love! I have a surprise for you!
The New Year’s Eve gala. Call me to discuss.
I place a hand on my tummy and wait for the usual reaction. Funny how, a week ago, when I saw Branson’s name on my screen, it gave me butterflies, but now, nothing.
“Who was it?” Hunter asks.
“Branson,” I say as I look out the window at the skyline of Manhattan that has now come into view.
“Texting the day after Christmas? Technically, it’s still your day off.” His tone is clipped.
I turn back to him and shrug. “He has some event that’s happening on New Year’s Eve. He’s just asking questions about it.”
His brows rise to his forehead. “What event?”
“It’s at the Rainbow Room, I think. I don’t remember all the details; that’s why I’m not texting back yet. I’ll look through my emails when I get home.”
Hunter removes his hand from my thigh and rubs his jaw. “How come he’s asking you?”
I tilt my head at him with a wry smile. “I’m his executive assistant, remember? I know his schedule better than he does.”
There’s suddenly a thickness in the air as Hunter’s mood changes drastically. He grips the steering wheel as he picks up speed to get around a car in front of us. He seems impatient with the other drivers as he moves around them with a clenched jaw and focused eyes, even giving a few a honk to get out of the way.
“Did that upset you?” I finally ask, putting it out there to clear the air. “I mean, does Branson texting me bother you?”
He sits back a little, acting nonchalant. “He’s your boss. Whatever.”
I try to decode his whatever comment. When I say it, that usually stands for hell yes, it pissed me off. Hunter, however, isn’t the beat around the bush kinda guy.
When we get to my building, Hunter helps me get my bag out of the trunk. He’s acting like he’s fine, but there are no words coming out of his mouth, so I don’t know for sure.
I’m not good at this part. When Hunter and I left his parents’ house, I was sure that we were a couple. Now, I’m not too sure, and damn me for not having the lady balls to just come out and ask.
Yes, I’m that girl.
Sue me.
I grab my bag from him, holding it with both hands in front of me so I don’t feel so weird. “Thank you again for inviting me,” I say shyly.
He takes a step closer, places his hand on my cheek, and says, “I’m glad you came.”
When his lips meet mine, I breathe in the normalcy I felt when