Page 57 of Executive Decision
“I am?—”
I went to stand, but she rose instead, picking up the plate. I hated it.
I grabbed her hand. “No. Sit down. I’m a big boy. I can bus my plate.”
“You’re a guest,” Daphne said.
I shook my head, loving the defiant look on her face. Dumb and braver for the glass of wine we’d imbibed, I pulled her into my lap. The look of surprise on Daphne’s face was more than enough reward for my misdeed. I thought for a moment she might slap me. She merely stared, mouth gaping.
“I don’t need you to wait on me like a servant, Daphne. Someone should take care of you.”
Her face flushed. Speechless, Daphne shook her head.
I tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. “You don’t think you deserve that?”
“I… I can do fine on my own,” Daphne quieted.
“That’s not what I asked,” I said.
“I… why do you even think that?”
“Because you’re amazing, Daphne. You know that deep down, don’t you?”
She nodded as if mystified.
“Now, what do you want? What can I do for you, princess?” I asked.
“I… I don’t know,” Daphne whispered.
I pulled her chin towards mine, unable to resist, and leaned to kiss her. But before my lips could even meet her, she gripped my shirt and pulled me closer, her lips pressed hard against mine. Her greedy kiss hit every note it needed. I needed more of her. I ran fingers through her hair and remembered how I felt when we kissed on the balcony years before—how free we felt. Gripping the roots of her wavy hair elicited a low moan.
I pulled back slightly, our faces almost meeting, and her hot, rapid breath told me all I needed to know.
“Can I try to get into the ‘exemplary’ category with you, Daphne?” I asked. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
Daphne nodded.
“I need you to say it out loud, princess. Say it.”
“Yes, Cal. I want to try. Ineedto,” Daphne pled.
I swatted her ass. “Then get upstairs, Daphne. I’ll come find you.”
“Oh… okay,” Daphne said, confused.
She slowly stood before me. I rose, gazing down at her. She was desperate to get off. It had been so long since I touched anyone like this. I was dying for it, too.
“Go, go on. I can figure out a dishwasher, Daphne,” I assured.
“Oh… okay,” Daphne murmured.
I watched her leave. I should have taken the moment to shake myself out of it. Before, my risk was losing my career opportunities. Now, I risked an angry public and the loss of image. I should have said no. Our relationship wouldn’t play well in the press, but I craved her.
* * *
Daphne
I paced in my room, unsure of what to do. Did I run? Did I tell Cal no? I felt my body’s betrayal—due to years of fertility treatments and wishful thinking—deep in my bones.
