Veronica pulled her close and Kathleen pressed her forehead to her shoulder. Their bodies fit easily, legs tangled beneath the sheet, skin brushing skin.
Kathleen lay there for a long time in silence, trying to process what had happened.
She had let someone touch her. Completely. And it hadn’t felt terrifying or invasive—it had felt good.Exhilarating. Her mind still hadn’t caught up to her body. She tried to replay it, moment by moment, wondering where her fear had gone. It hadn’t disappeared, exactly. It hadn’t been there when Veronica had started touching her.
She had made her feel safe and wanted in a deeply physical way. It was difficult to explain why her touch had been different, hadn’t seemed obtrusive.
She sighed softly against Veronica’s collarbone, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest.
Why was this elegant, composed woman, becoming the only thing she wanted to reach for?
Kathleen drifted into sleep, the thoughts trailing off into dreams.
She woke to find she was wrapped around Veronica.
Her thigh was hooked over hers, an arm snug around her waist, and her face buried in the curve of her neck. Veronica was still asleep, her skin was warm, her breathing slow and even.
Kathleen didn’t move. She didn’twantto move.
She lay there, listening to the gentle rhythm of Veronica’s breath until she stirred beneath her. She turned slightly, eyes still heavy with sleep, and smiled at Kathleen. “Morning.”
“Hello,” Kathleen whispered back.
Veronica leaned in and kissed her with soft lips—slow, unhurried. Then she rolled out of bed, padded to the kitchen, and started breakfast while Kathleen went to the bathroom, then pulled on her clothes.
It wasn’t awkward or rushed.
Veronica made scrambled eggs and toast with butter, handed her a mug of coffee and a plate. Kathleen sat at the counter, watching her eat, and let herself imagine what it would be like to do this often. To belong to someone like this.
When she finally stood to go, Veronica walked her to the door. “I’ll see you Wednesday night,” she said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Kathleen nodded. “At my place this time. I’d like to cook you a meal.”
Veronica smiled and opened the door. “I’ll be ready.”
Outside, the air was brisk, the city beginning to stir. As she walked to her car, the warmth of the morning began to fade, replaced by confusion and questions she didn’t yet have the language for.
She had no idea what was happening between them.
But she knew she wanted more.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
With misgivings, Marise watched Kathleen disappear down the corridor to the elevator.
She hadn’t slept well. Even with Kathleen warm beside her, her body curled into hers, sleep had come in bursts. Every time she drifted off, her guilt yanked her back.
What the hell was she doing?
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Agreeing to the lessons had been reckless enough, but she’d never intended them to be like last night. She’d meant to give her an idea of intimacy in little doses. It should have been simple, structured. Controlled. Teach her enough to make her confident. Build rapport but stay professional.
That had flown out the door quickly enough. She had stepped over the line bigtime. Kathleen hadn’t let her in; she’d opened like a flower in her hand and Marise had been unable to control her own emotions.
You fucking idiot. You took her to bed and left pieces of yourself behind in the sheets.
Christ, Kathleen had given her something she hadn’t given to anyone else, now what could she do? File it under “clientrelations” and walk away? She rubbed her temple feeling a stress headache coming on.
Kathleen was changing her.
