Page 82 of Grit
Changing that is terrifying…
If I didn’t have you, I don’t know what I’d do.
“I know you’re not clear on what you want.” He leaned down and spoke in her ear. Her back was to him, and her hand was on the doorknob. His hand held the door shut as his body came to life in her proximity. “So I’m going to tell you what I want.”
She didn’t say anything, but she nodded.
“I want you to be my girlfriend, as ridiculous as that word sounds to a forty-six-year-old man. I want to see you exclusively, I want you to exclusively see me. No other people involved. That’s not negotiable.”
She nodded.
“I want to kiss you whenever I want. I know you probably have your own timeline about telling your daughter, and I respect that, but I’m not going to hide you or us from anyone else. I’m not going to pretend the only thing I feel for you is friendship, whether it’s to our friends, our employees, or our families.”
She took longer to nod on that one, but she did.
He put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. “I want to make love to you. Not in this office. Not in the bunkhouse. Not sneaking around like a couple of kids. I want you to come to my house and stay over the next time Abby is at her grandparents’ house.”
Goose bumps rose on her neck.
She wanted that. She definitely wanted that.
Cary slowly bent down, brushed her braid to the side, and laved her nape with his tongue. He placed openmouthed kisses over her shoulders and her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and turned her until their mouths met.
The fire went from simmering to explosive in the space of a heartbeat. Melissa threw her arms around his neck, and Cary reached down to pick her up. He placed his hands on her ass and lifted. Melissa wrapped her legs around his hips.
“Conference table,” she muttered.
“We are not having sex on my conference table.” He spoke between kissing her. “I’ll never be able to have a co-op meeting in here again.”
“Need…” She put her hand over the erection that had sprung to life the minute she walked through the door.
Fuck. Melissa left Cary feeling like a teenager. He batted her hand away. “Thursday night. After the market.” He kissed her mouth. Her cheek. Her neck. “Put Abby to bed and come to my place.” He placed her on the edge of the sturdy conference table and cupped both cheeks in his hands. “You don’t have to stay, but come over, okay?”
“Yes.”
She was saying yes, but she was also trying to unbutton his shirt.
“Missy—”
“I just”—she pulled her mouth from his and rested her forehead against his chest, panting—“I need you. I need to know I didn’t ruin this.”
“You didn’t ruin this.” He shook his head. “You didn’t— Ahhhhh.”
She’d unbuttoned his jeans and drew his zipper down, putting both her hands on his erection.
“Fuck, Melissa.”
The corner of her mouth turned up. “You said we couldn’t do that in here.”
“You don’t have anything to prove to me.” He put his hands on hers. “I don’t want…”
Her hand stroked up and down over his boxers. “You don’t?”
“Melissa.” Cary put his hand on her cheek and kissed her hard and deep. “Of course I do. I’m just saying you don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to. Who says I don’t want to?” She hooked one arm around his neck and leaned into him, capturing his mouth as she pushed him back. She slid off the table, tucked her hands in the sides of his jeans, and pushed them down as she sank to her knees.
Cary couldn’t take his eyes off her.
