Page 86 of Power Move
I snickered.
“What?” Davey scoffed, running his hands through his hair defiantly.
“You… there are two very different versions of you, David.”
“How so?”
“There is the Davey who got me off in a grungy men’s room and keeps a bunch of trains littering one corner of his office and the man who still thinks he can bubble wrap the world from germs and two tiny humans. What is up with that?”
“First of all, my goal is to bubble wrap them since they have a genetic predisposition to asthma, and I don’t want them to suffer that. Second, I like things neat. Third, I love your pussy and wasn’t thinking about the room. Fourth, you leave my trains alone. I enjoy them. I ampassionateabout them. Don’t go there.”
“Are you… serious?”
“Yes. My father and I always built those trains growing up. And, it might surprise you to know that I am actually a devoted trainspotter when I travel.”
“A what?”
“Look it up.” Davey pulled on pants, shaking his head. “I had a bit of an issue with that acquisition in London. I’m due to go back in a week. I’ll be back in time for the wedding, no doubt, but legal is playing hardball.”
“Ah,” I said. “And there is no Daphne to smooth things over?”
“Exactly.”
“You’ve got this,” I said. “It will be fine.”
“You’re sweet.” Davey buckled his belt.
I leaned on the doorway, not even caring if I stared at his bare torso. The man only got hotter when he was a supposed disaster. His flustered look made him touchable. He wasn’t The Boss like this—just a man trying to win me over.
“Actually,” Davey sensed I was ogling him, “you aren’t sweet, Eva.”
He sidled over, grabbing my hips.
“I’m not?”
“No,” Davey said, “You’re sexy as hell and I cannot have you right now, but damn I want you. We’re running late.”
“We don’t have to be there for another thirty minutes. It’s like a ten-minute drive. How long does it take you to put on a shirt, David?”
“Fifteen minutes early is on time with Mum. On time is late, baby.”
He kissed me slowly, then backed off.
“Do you genuinely want to fuck me right now?” I asked.
“As much as ever, yeah,” Davey said. “I have no idea what you’ve done to yourself. It’s not the dress alone. But, damn! You’re very fuckable right now.”
I bit my lip.
“Don’t do that,” Davey said. “No. That’s not helpful.”
“Take your pants off,” I said.
“Eva, I?—”
“Take your pants off!” I repeated, kicking off my shoes.
“Eva,” Davey groaned. “We cannot?—”
