Page 100 of Breaking His Law

“We should get that looked at. You might have a brachial plexus injury, which can affect your neck down into your shoulder. You need to make massages and physical therapy a priority every week. That’s an order.”

“It doesn’t help sitting at a desk most days.”

“And you type faster than a hacker in a movie hunched over that laptop of yours.” He offers a moment of light relief from me reliving the night that changed the path of my life.

“If it hadn’t been for the accident, maybe I would have competed in the Olympics.” That was always my dream. “When the doctor told me that I wouldn’t have the same strength in my shoulder as I did before, I never went back to gymnastics.” Not that I could have. I was moved to the other side of town. I withdrew. Barely spoke to anyone at my new school, except for Maeve, and spent every day praying it was all a dream, that maybe one day I would wake up to find them all sitting around the breakfast table arguing about what we were havingfor dinner. Riley hated vegetables, but Mom always insisted on making her eat them.

“Well, what you can’t do in physical gymnastics, you more than make up for with verbal gymnastics. You’re a fucking smartass, do you know that?”

“I am not,” I disagree, half laughing, feeling better for sharing my story with him.

“Keep telling yourself that. Maybe I need to stuff your mouth full of my cock and make better use of it.”

His cock jerks between our sealed-together bodies.

“Not happening.” Feeling lighter, I grab his face and kiss him quickly, then leap out of his arms and the bed. “I have breakfast duties to attend to.”

Nathan groans in annoyance then pats the mattress. “Get back here, now. Breakfast can wait.”

“No, it can’t.” I pull on my panties then my jeans. “Now get up and come help. If you behave, I’ll let you fuck my mouth.”

Exasperated, he throws the covers back, revealing his hard cock. “Negotiating with you is like trying to haggle with a robot.”

“Takes one to know one, Mr. Hotshot Lawyer.” I yelp when he grabs me from behind as I wrestle with the arms of my plaid shirt, and he catches me off guard.

“Stop moving,” he whispers in my ear, sounding serious.

I still in his embrace.

“Thank you for sharing your story with me, Arianna.” The sincerity in his words is unmistakable.

I nod, unable to reply as guilt overcomes me, because I didn’t share everything.

My new job started out with a mission and one outcome, but now it’s turned into something entirely different.

“I’ve never done the commitment thing before. But after you shared your innermost secret with me, I might just want to share my life with you—completely. Every up and down, every trialand triumph, every damn millisecond of every day. You belong with me in my apartment.” Opening up to me seems like a huge step for him. Us.

If only I could be completely truthful with him.

“Do you think if you like living with me, it will become a more long-term permanent thing?” he asks.

Does he mean give up my apartment, engagement, marriage… What exactly?

Holy fuckballs. Limo rides to work together and sex, my ass. This is a big deal.

“Are you still drunk from the wine last night?” I brush him off, nerves fluttering in my gut, and turn around to look at him as he drops his arms that were holding me in place.

He shakes his head, rushes past me, and smacks a kiss to my startled open mouth. “Just think about what that might look like long-term, baby,” he says, cupping his junk confidently as he enters the ensuite. “You can pick your jaw off the floor now or you’ll catch flies with it open that wide.”

Catch flies? It’s feelings I’ve caught, big ones, ones that feel a lot like love.

Nathan Hart wants to make us permanent, whatever the hell that means.

This is either going to go one of two ways for me. If I keep my mouth shut about my true intentions at the beginning, it will go beautifully, and if I don’t, Julie might tell him, and it could be a giant-sized glorious disaster.

Think about it,he said.

Hell, I can’t think about anything else.

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