Chapter 6: After Hours

On Friday night I stayed late in Sam's lobby to finish the last wall, and he stayed too.

The building was empty except for a guard on the ground floor who had been told to go and get dinner.

Sam sat on the edge of the reception desk with his tie off and his sleeves rolled to the elbow.

He held the end of a garland while I wired it to the rail.

"You don't have to hold it," I said.

"I know."

"You're not even looking at the flowers."

"No."

The wire slipped out of my fingers.

I climbed down the ladder, slowly, and stood in front of him with nothing in my hands.

"I have a rule," I said.

"Tell me."

"No pauses. If it's over, you say it's over.

"You don't say you need a break.

"You don't disappear for ten days and let me find out at a toast."

"I won't."

"I mean it."

"Jenna." He put the garland down on the desk.

"I've been thinking about your mouth since Monday. I'm not going to need a break."

My heart hit my ribs so hard I put my hand on his chest to steady it.

His heart was going just as fast.

"Then say it," I said.

"I want you."

"In plain words."

"I want to fuck you on my reception desk."

I laughed, a surprised gasp, and he took my face in both hands and kissed me.

It was nothing like Monday.

Monday had been a dare.

This was slow and deep and hungry, his tongue in my mouth, his hands holding my jaw.

I pulled his shirt out of his waistband and put my hands on his stomach, hard and warm, and he shivered.

"Cold hands," he said against my lips.

"Florist."

He picked me up by the backs of my thighs and set me on the desk.

I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him in.

I could feel him through his slacks.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Put Our Love on Pause, Then Married Her Behind My Back from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.