Page 67 of Unless It's You
“Good morning.” She pauses at our desks and looks back and forth between us. “We’ve got a few minutes, but do you want to head to the room together?”
“I have something to get done quickly. I need Stella’s help. Can we meet you in there?”
“Of course.” Tessa disappears past the cubicles.
The way he says my name... it’s like a whisper. A naughty word. Two reverent syllables. After weeks of calling me by my last name, or not at all,Stellasounds sacred coming out of his mouth.
Ethan deposits his mocha next to the cold black coffee and nods toward the nearest small huddle room, dark with the door shut.
I follow him—because obviously—and as soon as I clear the door, he pushes it shut roughly until we’re alone in the dark. In a smooth motion, he steps forward until our bodies are almost flush against each other, but not touching yet. A hand rests above my head on the closed door, and he moves the other to the side of my hip, finding the belt loop of my jeans and pulling me firmly against him. Once our hips are pressed together and the core of my body pulses, his fingers find the space in between my jeans and my silk shirt, making skin-on-skin contact with my lower back. I wrap my arms around his waist, and he leans down to my ear.
“I fucking missed you, Stella.”
His words are a jolt that goes from my head to between my legs. So honest and open. Raw. The way he growls my name? Mygod.I’m aching for him.
He hasn’t changed his mind. He still wants me.
“I missed you, too,” I whisper, pulling back to lock eyes with him. He only breaks eye contact to glance down at my lips.
There’s more than raw hunger there. It’s not just lust. It can’t be. I can feel his body pounding where our chests are pressed together. And it hurts—right there—where our hearts are only inches apart.
“Kiss me, Ethan.”
He leans in and touches our lips together. It’s not a ravishing, but instead the sweetest kiss. His right hand moves up and cups my chin.
“Stella . . .”
“You go for weeks without saying my name, and now you can’t seem to stop.” My insides are fluttery, like the wings of my tattooed butterfly.
But that text conversation with Ben. The things he said about Ethan. They float in the very back of my mind.
He chuckles and kisses me again, this time more insistently, a gentle swipe of his tongue in my mouth.
I should tell him about meeting up with Ben on Saturday. Damn! Every time I think I’m doing the right thing not telling him until after it’s done, I question myself. I don’t want to over-complicate my drink with Ben. But maybe I should just come clean now.
Unless it’s the wrong thing to do... and by telling him I’ll ruin everything, he’ll never look at me like this again, and he’ll realize he can’t be with me.
Unless I should just keep kissing him and not overthink everything in my life.
Voices drift from down the hallway through the huddle room door.
I gasp and my body goes rigid. Good god, what am I doing right now? I’m at actual work, at my actual job, and instead of working, I’m rubbing myself against a client in a conference room?
Ethan pulls back and presses a finger to his lips, not takinghis eyes off me. But instead of staying quiet and still, he presses his mouth to mine again, gently, reverently, and only after the voices grow louder and then fade as the people—Graham and Luke, probably looking for me—pass by, does he go deeper, grinding my hips against his, absolutely turning my lower half to Jell-O. Now one large palm is on my ass, the other teasing the bottom of my breast, and I can’t do anything but moan into his mouth.
When I’m about to drag him out of the office and immediately to one of our flats, he slows his kisses and pulls back, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb, then smoothing my hair down tenderly.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for days.”
“Ravage me in a conference room?” My insides squeeze and I run my hands down my shirt.
“Yeah. I like ravaging you in a conference room.” His eyes burn into mine. “Or anywhere.”
“Me too, I guess.”
“Later,” he says. “Later, we don’t have to stop.”
And with that, I’m pretty sure I’ll get nothing done the rest of the workday.
