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The lock beeps as she swipes her card and then she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her. I stand there for a second longer, my hands still clenched, before I make for my room and close my own door a little too hard behind me.
I need a fucking shower.
As I stand under the water, head lowered, I grip my dick hard. The vow I made a few weeks ago to not allow myself tojerk off at the thought of Chloe is now a laughable memory. At this stage, it’s a daily event. It’s far too easy to picture her in the room next door, maybe in the shower as well. Her skin warm and wet, her nipples hard little pebbles as she thinks about me. Would she slip her fingers between her thighs? Would she circle her swollen clit? Would she moan my name as her legs trembled with the force of her orgasm?
The thought is enough to send me over the edge.
Later, as I’m lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how I’m going to get over my obsession, I replay my words from earlier.
If we had more time here.
Maybe I can’t take what I want from her, but perhaps I can give her something instead.
I reach for my phone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHLOE
The following morning, Roman looks as wide awake and in control as he always does. He certainly doesn’t look like he was awake half the night, tossing and turning like I was.
I was so damn close to throwing caution to the wind and inviting him into my suite for a drink last night. It’s absurd, but sitting next to him at dinner, standing next to him in the elevator on the way up to our rooms, had me wanting to throw myself at him. To tell him to have his way with me, any way he wanted.
If I’d had one more glass of wine, there’s a good chance I would have. But I wasn’t quite tipsy enough to risk his rejection or to forget what the repercussions of a one-night stand with my boss could be.
So I slipped into my suite and rushed to the shower so I could take care of my pent-up arousal. Not that it helped me sleep. If I’m lucky, I don’t look as frazzled as I feel.
Roman looks up from his phone as I approach, giving me a quick once-over. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
Is that a trick question? “I did.” Hopefully I sound at least a little awake. “Did you?”
One side of his lips curls up in that sexy smirk of his. “I did. Eventually.”
I try not to read too much into his words. There’s no way he was kept awake by thoughts of me the way I was with thoughts of him. He’s probably referring to the few hours of work he no doubt did before going to bed.
“We have another busy morning ahead of us. But it’s only a half day.” He guides me out of the hotel to our car, his hand on my back. Does he even realize that he does it? Or is it second nature to a man like him? Not that I’m complaining, I like the feel of it there too much to say anything.
“I’m looking forward to hearing your speech,” I say as I slide inside the car. He follows me and leans back against the leather, his demeanor completely relaxed.
“It’ll give me a chance to reinforce the King Group’s new direction,” he says. “We need to show those in the industry that we’re not resting on our laurels. The way the company used to do business isn’t effective anymore.”
Shifting in my seat, I survey him, though I do my best not to dwell on how good he looks. “I think what you’re doing with the King Group is admirable. You should be proud of yourself for leaving the past behind and embracing the future.”
I don’t directly mention his father, relatively certain he’d prefer not to talk to me about the man. I do, however, want him to know how much I admire him. It can’t be easy, what he’s done. Rejecting his father’s way of doing things and forging his own path. I hope he realizes that.
His icy gray eyes pierce into me, stealing my breath in a way no other man’s ever have. “Leaving the past behind can be a challenge. At times, it’s far more difficult than it appears.”
His words linger in my chest, and a hundred questions float through my mind.
How much have his dad’s actions affected him?
What choices has he made to be where he is today?
Is he living the life he wants to live?
As much as I long for answers, to see beneath his cool exterior to the heart of him, it’s not in the cards. He’s my boss, and I’m his assistant. Despite how I itch to know more, there will always be limits to what he shares with me.
“I think the hardest part of letting go of the past is trusting that the future holds something better,” I tell him.