Page 72 of The Alpha's Fake Mate
I didn’t want to get up. The top cover was over me up to my waist. Orion must’ve brought it up while I slept. A gentleman through and through.
After a moment, I slid off the bed and went to the bathroom door. It was ajar and I pushed it open.
I heard the shower before I looked around the corner to see Orion standing behind the glass door, his hands pushing back his thick, wet hair.
Still naked, I opened the door. The water splashed over his shoulders and chest as he turned and held out his arms.
I walked into the warmth of the water and his embrace.
Chapter Sixteen
Orion
I still got a thrill when I saw the flash of an incoming email.
Our offices were just down the hall from each other on the first floor and Holland shot off messages to me as if he couldn’t wait with his every thought, or compile them into a coherent end-of-day report.
Holland:You can’t fix the world’s problems with more designer blue jeans.
Me:Every man should have at least two pair.
Holland:I don’t.
Me:I’ll order you a dozen pair. You have a huge closet. I intend to fill it up.
Holland:Think you’re going to win me over with clothes like you do the others on the farm? Try harder.
Me:Already have.
My incoming banner remained blank. Dark.
The door to my office slowly opened. Holland stood in his old Zilly’s uniform, dark trousers, white button-up shirt. The new clothes we’d ordered still hadn’t yet arrived.
He stood beside the half open door, eyes storm-dark as always, mouth a smirk. “I’m not wearing clothes half the time these days anyway.”
“All right, then. I’ll cancel the order.”
He came toward me, angling so he half sat, half leaned on the edge of my desk. “Typical Alpha.”
“Typical?”
“You just want me naked all the time, isn’t that it?”
“Huh. Thought it was the other way around.” In truth, Holland had initiated every encounter after our first, mornings, evenings, and afternoons. We got very little work done, but that was what assistants and delegating was for.
We stared at each other, unmoving. The tingles began in my stomach and shot outward to my chest and groin like little lightning flashes. Hunger flared, but not for food. All over, my skin went hot and cold until I could barely stand it anymore.
Holland leaned in and reached for my shirt, immediately starting to unbutton it.
I tilted my head up and our mouths found each other so quick and heated I forgot to breathe.
Over the last few days, this kept happening. And I never wanted it to stop.
Holland sat in my lap and heated me up. Our hands went everywhere. I waited for his usual command.
“Lift me up. Take me upstairs.”
He wrapped his arms about my neck and shoulders as I lifted him easily and cradled him to my chest, still madly kissing him.
