Page 33 of Christmas with My Ruthless CEO
And for now, that's enough.
Chapter 7
Atticus
Iwake before dawn, a lifetime habit that not even the comfortable weight of Sloane curled against my side can disrupt. For a moment, I simply watch her sleep, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her honey-blonde hair spills across the pillow, the slight part of her lips as she breathes.
Something tightens in my chest at the sight. This isn't the first time I've woken up with a woman beside me, but it's the first time I've had no desire to slip away before she wakes, no strategic exit planned, no careful distancing already mapped out in my head.
Instead, I find myself wanting to stay exactly where I am, Sloane's warmth against me, her scent, vanilla and something uniquely her, surrounding me.
The realization should be terrifying. I've built my life, my career, on careful planning and emotional distance. Yet here I am, completely undone by the woman sleeping beside me, and I've never felt more certain of anything.
My phone buzzes softly on the nightstand, a reminder of the world beyond this room. I reach for it carefully, trying not to disturb Sloane as I check the screen.
Marcus, with his impeccable timing:Morning brief ready when you are. Council representatives were impressed with yesterday's presentation. Board requesting update call at 11.
I type back a quick acknowledgment, then another message:Have coffee and pastries delivered to my suite at 8. Two of everything.
His response is immediate, professional as always with just a hint of knowing:Consider it done. Anything else?
I glance at Sloane, still sleeping peacefully.Clear my morning schedule until 10.
Already taken care of. Enjoy your breakfast, sir.
I smile, setting the phone aside. Marcus knows me too well and has been managing my life with quiet efficiency for years. Of course he'd have already adjusted my schedule, anticipating that I'd want time with Sloane this morning.
She stirs beside me, eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she looks disoriented, then her gaze finds mine and a slow smile spreads across her face.
"Morning," she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.
"Morning," I reply, unable to resist brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Sleep well?"
"Mmm, when you finally let me sleep." The teasing light in her eyes sends heat curling through me. "What time is it?"
"Early. Just after six."
She groans, burrowing deeper into the pillow. "Of course it is. Do you have some sort of internal CEO alarm that never lets you sleep past dawn?"
"Years of habit," I admit, tracing lazy patterns on her bare shoulder. "Though I usually get up and work out. Today I'm making an exception."
"Lucky me." She stretches, the sheet slipping to reveal more of the skin I spent hours exploring last night. "So what's the plan? Rush back to HQ for early meetings?"
"Actually, I've cleared my morning until ten." I pull her closer, enjoying the way her body fits against mine. "Breakfast will be delivered at eight. That gives us nearly two hours to... recover from last night."
Her eyes darken at the implication. "Recovery, hmm? Is that what we're calling it?"
"Among other things."
"Such as?" She props herself up on one elbow, the sheet falling away completely now, leaving her gloriously bare from the waist up.
The sight of her, warm and tousled in the morning light, momentarily short-circuits my brain. She’s all bare skin and sleepy mischief, and I can’t form a single coherent thought.
“I’m finding it hard to be clever with you looking like that” I admit, voice rough.
“Good” she whispers, then leans in to kiss me, soft and lazy and unbearably intimate. “I like you better when you’re not overthinking.”
The kiss deepens without warning, her lips parting under mine as she shifts, climbing half onto me, her body hot and smooth against my skin. Her fingers slide into my hair, curling around the back of my neck as her thigh slots between mine. The friction is slow but devastating. I groan into her mouth.
