Lib Novel Page 81
I, what?
I’m sorry I intervened?
Yes, as his executive assistant, it’s none of my concern. But what about his wife? The wife who, a few minutes ago, was sitting over his hard-on.
Um, and let’s just say impressive wouldn’t be enough to describe how he felt under me.
As if he’s thinking the same thing, Charles gently runs the back of his hand against my cheek. “It also reminds me that I’m in my room, in my bed, and everything is okay.”
Even though his words are simple, there’s a raw honesty on his face, which resembles something like…fear.
That’s nonsense.
Charles Hawthorne, the most powerful man in this town, isn’t scared of anything.
“But you’re no longer in your bed now that I’m here?” My fingers dig into his biceps.
“Then it tells me you’re safe in my bed.”
I don’t know what changes in the air around us. The playful, sensual warmth morphs into something dense.
My heart says Charles just confessed something huge, and I know I’ll spend countless minutes tomorrow dissecting his words to find out the hidden meaning behind them.
“But I don’t feel safe tonight,” I whisper. His earlier admission allows me to share my fears.
“I’m here. I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you, butterfly.” Charles’ voice is so calm and relaxed, in a way I’ve never seen him before.
“I never thought there’d be a day when you’d call someone by such a cheesy nickname,” I whisper again.
“Me neither.” He smiles. “Guess I’ve made another exception for you.”
“What’s the first?”
“First?” He raises an eyebrow.
“You just said you’ve made another exception for me. What’s the first one?”
“You can take your pick. You’re the first person other than me who’s sleeping in my bed. Today is the first time I’ve left a meeting before it even began. It’s also the first time I didn’t fire someone when they failed to do their job.”
“Are you talking about me?” I ask, despite knowing that he’s going to reply in the negative.
Charles slowly shakes his head.
“Steve’s job was to keep you safe and he failed.”
“I love Steve.” I grab his hands as they hold my face.
“This is the last time I want to hear the word love and any other man’s name on your lips. You are my wife now.”
Possessiveness oozes from him like molten lava. On one hand, my feminism is bursting to give him a fitting reply on claiming me like a possession, but there’s also a part of me that loves every bit of this jealous side of him.
“You know I don’t mean it that way.”
“It doesn’t matter, butterfly.” He grins as if knowing well the impact his soft words are having on me. “Now go to sleep.”
He places me back on the bed. The moment my head rests against the pillow, thoughts of being trapped under the rubble hit me like a tsunami. Before he can take another step away, I grab his hand.
He looks over his shoulder. Before tonight, I could say in a heartbeat that I’ve never met a more impatient man than my boss, but right now, his patience rivals that of the mom of a cranky toddler.