Page 104 of Indulge
She nods but stares right at me, picking up the roses and smelling them.
“And these are for me?”
I glance around the empty room. “Can’t see any other beautiful woman here?”
She giggles and sets them back down. “You’re sweet,” she whispers.
“No. There’s a reason I call you sweetness.”
She tilts her head. “You know, I’ve never been a fan of a guy giving me a nickname.”
She blinks slowly and stares off at the wall.
“You ain’t ever been treated right, have you?”
She shakes her head, locking her gaze on me.
“No. Well, there was this one guy recently who actually made me feel special. Respected even,” she says with a menacing grin, tapping her chin.
I smirk. “I’m breaking the cycle, hmm?”
She rolls her eyes. “You should be a therapist.”
“I tried. They said I talk too much about licking things.”
Her laughter fills the room. It’s a sound that heals something ugly in me.
I dip a silver spoon into one of the jars and hold it out to her. “Taste.”
She leans forward, her lips wrapping around the spoon. Her lashes flutter. “Oh my god.”
“Good?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“It’s like—sex and therapy had a baby.”
I chuckle. “You should write our ad copy, I’ll email the team later.”
She opens her eyes, and for a second, the humor fades. There’s that look again, completely raw and unguarded. The one that wrecks me.
“I missed this,” she says softly. “Us being... normal.”
“Sweetheart, nothing about us is normal, and it’s literally been two days.”
“I know.” She sighs, and it’s like her shoulders drop under the weight of something heavy. “I can’t stop thinking about you, even when I’m really not supposed to, and then I remember how much I shouldn’t want this, that I can’t have you, not how I want you.”
I set the spoon down and take her hand, guiding it to the next jar. “Then have it. Just for today. No titles. No brothers. No bullshit. Just taste.”
Her throat bobs as she nods. I dip her finger into the jar and bring it to my mouth, sucking the chocolate off slowly. Her breath hitches.
“Rowan…”
“Mm?” I hum against her skin.
“This doesn’t feel very business appropriate.”
“Good thing I’m not professional.”
She laughs again, quiet and breathy, before I do it again, but slower this time, dragging my tongue along her fingertip. Her other hand grips the counter behind her.
