Page 22 of Strings Attached

He's quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare skin. "I don't know," he finally admits. "This changes things between us. We can't go back to the way things were."

I nod, my stomach twisting with nerves. "Do you regret it?"

"No," he says firmly, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. "I don't regret a single moment with you, Mireille. But we'll need to figure out how to move forward from here."

I bite my lip, considering. "Maybe... maybe we could keep this separate from work? See where things go between us privately, but maintain our professional relationship at the office?"

Evander nods slowly. "That could work. It won't be easy, but I'm willing to try if you are."

"I am," I say softly, leaning in to kiss him.

As our lips meet again, slower and sweeter this time, I push aside my worries about the future. For now, I just want to savor this moment, here in Evander's arms. Whatever challenges tomorrow brings, we'll face them together.

Chapter 10

Evander

It's beena week since the gala, and Mireille and I have spent every night together. We've managed to keep our professional and private lives separate, maintaining our usual work dynamic during office hours. But as soon as we leave the building, everything changes.

I find myself looking forward to the end of each workday with an anticipation I've never felt before. Mireille and I have fallen into a routine of sorts—we leave the office separately to avoid suspicion, then meet at my penthouse or her apartment.

Tonight, we're at my place. I'm in the kitchen, attempting to cook dinner while Mireille sits at the counter, sipping wine and chatting about her day. It's so domestic, so normal, and yet it feels extraordinary.

"You know," Mireille says, a teasing lilt to her voice, "when you said you were going to cook, I didn't realize you meant ordering takeout and pretending to plate it yourself."

I look up from where I'm arranging Thai food on fancy plates, trying to maintain a serious expression. "I have no idea what you're talking about. This is a secret family recipe, passed down for generations."

She laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. "Oh really? And does this secret family recipe always come in little white boxes with ‘Big Chowder’ printed on them?"

I can't help but chuckle, abandoning my charade. "Alright, you caught me. But in my defense, I never claimed to be a chef."

Mireille stands, coming around the counter to wrap her arms around my waist. "It's okay. I like you anyway, even if you can't cook."

I turn in her embrace, pulling her close. "Oh? And what else do you like about me?"

Her green eyes sparkle with mischief. "Well, you're not terrible to look at. And you do have a rather impressive... office."

I raise an eyebrow. "My office, huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Mireille bursts into laughter, burying her face in my chest. I hold her close, loving how natural and normal this feels.

As our laughter subsides, I tilt her chin up, meeting her eyes. "I like you too, you know. More than I've ever liked anyone."

Her expression softens. "Evander..."

I lean down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. It's different from our banter filled exchanges of the past week—slower and deeper, Mireille has gotten deeper than anyone else.

When we part, Mireille's cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright. "What about dinner?" she asks breathlessly.

I glance at the forgotten takeout, then back at her. "It can wait."

With that, I scoop her up in my arms, her squeal of surprise turning into giggles as her legs wrapped around my waist and her lips trailing kisses along my neck. To my shock, she’s not wearing any panties. My cock thickens against my slacks. Christ, I can’t get enough of her.

Our lips meet once again and that little moan that she releases at the back of her throat is absolutely intoxicating. Whenever she makes it, it makes me harder than stone.

Unsnapping the buttons and releasing the zipper, my cock spills free and I line it up at her entrance, the heat of her pussy enticing me, urging me to thrust deeply and I do.

I thrust hard and fast, burying myself inside of her. She groans against my mouth, and I tighten my grip on her. My movements methodical, thrusting in and out of her, my cock hitting deep inside of her.

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