Page 43 of Pressure

“Is there a chance we can still talk about this?”

She gave him a shy nod. “Maybe. Let’s get this website stuff cleaned up and turn the server off so we can tear it apart and rebuild it.”

He nodded. “I can live with that.”

She moved her laptop so she was next to him, and Lance’s heart soared. She’d been purposely sitting across from him since she first arrived.

They worked in tandem until the job was done and the Solitaire website was no more.

Traces of it may always be on the web, but they’d done everything they could do to remove it and start over.

Lance was already working through the code in his head and thinking of ways to make it even stronger.

“I’m going upstairs,” Marissa said. “Follow me if you want.”

Lance stared after her as she stood and walked out of the room. Did his ex-fiancée and submissive just invite him into her room—his room?

He saved his progress and stood, unsure of whether or not he should follow her.

Deciding he would be a colossal idiot not to follow her he strolled out of the conference room and locked it behind him.

♦♦♦♦

Marissa paced in Lance's suite. Had she been wrong to invite him up? What exactly was she inviting him up to do?

Was she ready to sleep with Lance again? Images of the cops showing up in their living room flashed in her mind and she wasn't so sure. Then again, he'd proven that he knew how mistaken he'd been. She sat and peeled her boots off, tossing them in the corner as she contemplated her predicament.

Her therapist would tell her to take a step back and evaluate her choices.

Was there time for that?

A knock at the door told her there was not.

On shaky legs, she went to the door and pulled it open.

"Hi," she said, surprised she could speak around the lump in her throat.

He leaned against the door frame and shoved one hand in his pocket.

“What am I doing here, Marissa?” he asked in that quiet but stern voice she’d been so familiar with in the past.

Marissa stepped back, inviting him in. “I’m not sure. Talking, not talking. Can we just figure it out as we go?”

He laughed as he stepped into the room and lifted a hand to cup her cheek. “I think we’re at the figuring it out part now, Kitten.”

She sighed at his touch. “Then I definitely vote for not talking,” she whispered.

His eyes drifted closed for the briefest moment before he bent to kiss her.

“Maybe just a little talking,” he murmured as he pulled away and took her hand, guiding her to the bed.

His hand stayed in hers as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

“Why now?”

She shrugged. “Why not now? Are you seriously going to question having sex with me?”

He tugged at her hand until she sat next to him. When she did, he put his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her temple.

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