Fuck me.Why does he have to be so cute? I squeeze my eyes shut and search for my resolve. “I have work in the morning.”
With a resigned sigh, he finally releases me. I slide the book into my bag and hurry to the door.
My boots are on and I’m zipping my coat when he comes up beside me.
“Coming over for your spanking tomorrow?” His tone is husky, and he smothers a yawn.
I respond with a cheeky grin. “No, I’m coming over to deliveryourspanking, you naughty boy.”
He winces, and I laugh. It feels like we’re back on solid ground.
But then he cups my shoulders and lays the sweetest kiss on me, a gentle press of lips that says way more than I want it to, and I fucking melt.
Break the kiss!I scream at myself, but I can’t.
Gideon steps back first, his teeth dragging over his lower lip as he gives me a sleepy smile.
And with that enticing image burned into my brain, I blurt out “Bye!” and rip open the door. I dash into the hallway and pound the elevator button, needing to escape before I do something stupid, like stay and never leave.
That was my problem with Everett. I didn’t know when to leave.
Stick to sex,I tell myself.That’s all you have time for anyway.
Still, it isn’t our “reindeer games” replaying in my mind as I walk home, but Gideon snuggling against me as he slept.
Chapter 13
Gideon
Day 7: Spanking & Spiked Cider
“What do you mean shereadto you? Is this some kind of library kink?”
I shoot Rodrigo an irritated look as we leave the office and hurry to the subway. I’ve been trying to explain last night without admitting how fuckingniceit was to fall asleep on Valencia, but Rodrigo keeps interrupting. “No, she read abookto me, and—never mind. Why do I tell you anything?”
“Because I’m your work husband.” Rodrigo blows me a kiss, but then his expression turns serious. “Look, all kidding aside, this seems really fast. You’ve been spending every secondwith this woman, after not seeing her for nearly a decade, and the only thing you’ll say about that time is that you ‘weren’t really friends.’” Even his air quotes look sarcastic. “Forgive me for worrying about your depressed ass.”
Rodrigo is too emotionally intelligent. It makes him a great friend—excuse me, a greatwork husband—but it means I can’t hide shit from him. After my father died, I’d probably have turned into a recluse who never left the apartment if it hadn’t been for Rodrigo.
But he’s right. Valencia and I are halfway through our list, and I can barely remember what my life was like before she came back into it. All I did was work, exercise, occasionally grab drinks with my colleagues—oh, and have weekly sessions with Ralph. Can’t forget those.
“Bailey moved in with you after a week,” I retort, because defensiveness is all I have at this point.
“That was different.”
“How?”
“It wasn’tofficial. He just never left. And don’t change the subject. Has Valencia shown signs that she wants to extend your kinky advent calendar past Christmas?”
I grit my teeth. “No.”
“Have you dropped hints?”
I sigh. “Yes.”
“Listen, I just don’t want you to get—”
“Bye, Rodrigo,” I say pointedly, breaking off and jogging down the subway steps at Wall Street.
