Page 85 of The Back Forty
“No,” I cut her off gently because now more than ever I'm convinced she's all that I want, and I can't have her regretting what we just did again. “Don’t ask me to do that again unless you’re serious about giving us a shot.”
Her eyes widen as I turn her to face me away from the mirror. Then I reach up and cup her jaw, thumb brushing over her cheek tenderly, tipping her face downward so she can see the strain of my cock pressing hard against the front of my denim jeans.
“I wanted that just as badly as you did,” I tell her, voice rough, aching. “But now I’ve gotta walk out of here with your taste still on my tongue, knowing I can’t have you the way that I wantto. Knowing I can’t be inside you, where I belong. That I can’t bury myself in that tight pussy and finally let go. That you won’t say my name the way I need to hear it, and you'll regret it if you did.”
Her mouth parts like she might protest what I said, but I shake my head, jaw tight, heart splintering in my chest because if she wants me, it's going to have to be in different circumstances where we can have an honest conversation about our future and not one forced out of an orgasm. If she wants me after this, I’m going to need her to beg for it.
“You drive me fucking insane, Dani,” I whisper. “Everything about you—your mind, your body, the way you look at me like you might see me. I can’t do this halfway anymore. I don't know if I've ever seen you as just an employee and that's why I'm saying no and stopping this conversation from going forward in this moment.”
I want to lean in and claim that mouth, pull her lip between my teeth and bite, taste, take. But I don’t.
I drop my hand from her face, the absence of her skin already burning. Then I turn, adjust my pants, and grab the bathroom door handle, trying to steady my breathing before I go back out there and pretend like none of this happened. Like she didn’t just fall apart in my hands. Like I didn’t just give her everything and still walk away with nothing.
And then I leave.
Chapter 33 – Dani
“It’s somuch colder here,” I let out a shiver. It’s one of those full-body ones that start at the bridge of my nose, zip through my chest, clench behind my knees, and don’t let go until it reaches the tips of my toes.
We’ve been to Minnesota before for work, but never this late in the year. Not when there’s snow crunching underfoot and breath fogging the air like we’ve stepped into a snow globe.
Lawson glances over and gives me one of those lazy, devastating smiles that makes it impossible notto think about dinner last night at his house. The bathroom. The mirror. His mouth. The way he told me not to ask him for that again unless I meant it.
True to his word, he hasn’t crossed any lines since. No flirtatious comments this morning when we met in the airport, no wandering hands. Just polite conversation and quiet distance, like he’s switched off some internal setting and is back to the way we were before. Playful and professional.
Not that we’ve had much time together. Most of which I spent half-pretending to read a romance novel while sneaking glances at him reading thenewspaper like he always does. He didn’t look at me once. It's like absolutely nothing changed between us.
How is he so calm? So composed? He seemed frustrated—angry, even—when he spun me to face the mirror and growled those final words. But then he let me go. He helped me pull myself together like it hadn’t just happened. Like I hadn’t come undone in his hands.
And honestly? I don’t blame him. I pushed him away and shouldn't have asked him to do that. And right when I was going to tell himfuck what I said, let’s give this a shot,he stopped me.
I spent most of the night lying awake, replaying it all on a loop. The way I leaned into him. The way I asked for it knowing I wasn't sure I could give him what he wanted in return. It was selfish. Immature. A little manipulative if I’m being brutally honest with myself and I regret it. Not what we did, but the way I used it as an escape hatch for my own horniness.
I can’t bring it up now, though. Not when we’ve just landed in a one-stoplight town in the middle of Minnesota and I’m gearing up for the biggest pitch of my life. Later I'll apologize when my nerves aren't so high, and I can look into his eyes without distraction. Later, I’ll tell him how much he means to me.
I tug my parka tighter around me and adjust the hunter green suit jacket that I'm wearing underneath. My cream camisole and tailored pants are clinging in all the right places, but they’re no match for this frozen tundra that we’ve stepped into. Thank God I had the foresight to grab this coat from Isla’s before we left. I had no idea it would be this cold.
“Yeah,” Lawson chuckles, eyes skating down the length of my bundled-up form. “Minnesota’s a lot colder than North Carolina in November. Do you need an extra coat?”
He says it so easily, like he’s not even feeling the cold in his worn-in light-wash jeans and long-sleeved Henley. The man looks like a walking North Face ad. No jacket, no problem. A gray knit beanie is tugged low over his forehead, soft brown strands curling out around his ears. Just like that, he looks less like my boss and more like the guy you’d spot at a coffee shop and fantasize about for weeks.
Cowboy hat on Lawson? Ridiculously hot.
Baseball cap? Yes, please.
Backward cap? I’ve fantasized about it on several occasions.
But this winter hat? Game over. Just bend me over the rental car and ruin me in the snow. God, it’s pathetic what a cotton hat can do to me.
“I’m good,” I manage to choke out, hands wrapping tightly around the plane coffee I’m clutching like a security blanket. It's disgusting, burnt, but I need it. Only my second one today and I’m pacing myself because there’s no way I’m having a repeat of the Texas incident.
He nods and holds the door to the hotel open for me. “Let’s get checked in, settled, and regroup in an hour?”
“Sounds good. I’m probably going to squeeze in a power nap.”
“Of course,” he says with a soft smile. “See you soon.”
We go our separate ways, and I let out a quiet breath of relief the second I step into my room. It’s too much being this close to him after everything, knowing what his hands feel like on me. What I feel like in hismouth.
