Page 31

“Should we take a picture?” she murmurs, her chest rising and falling more heavily than it was a minute ago.
“Yes.”
She fumbles for the phone and opens the camera app again, not waiting for me to initiate, her lips greedy on mine. This time, though, I’m prepared, meeting her halfway, matching her energy.
I slip my tongue into her mouth, unthinking, and she startles, dropping my phone, where it lands with a gentle thump on the rug.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
“No, no. It was my fault.” She bends down to pick it up, holding it against her chest, even more out of breath.
I reach out and extract the phone from her hold, my fingers grazing her breast in the process. “Should we see what you took?”
I navigate to the gallery and swipe through the photos, only one word coming to mind.
Hot.
Caught in an intimate moment, we appear hungry for each other, a prelude to what’s to come.
I glance over at Serena, her cheeks flushed. “I don’t know if we can publish these.”
I was thinking the same thing. “No. This is a little too… much.”
“How about this?” She takes the phone from me once more, angling it toward us as she presses a kiss to my cheek, her lips warm against my skin.
“There.” She shows me the picture, my mouth curved in a half smile on the screen I didn’t even realize I was doing, her eyes closed, intent on the kiss, but somehow radiating that love she’s able to flip on like a switch. “I think this one’s a winner.”
I clear my throat and hold out my hand for her to place the phone in, afraid to touch her again. “I’ll email it to Angelina.”
Not half a minute later I get a reply, effusive praise in bold letters across the screen.
“She likes it.”
“Good.”
Silence stretches, my body remembering her lips on mine, that sensation in the pit of my stomach I couldn’t quite identify before now patently obvious once I saw those pictures.
Arousal.
Serena’s a beautiful woman, though. It’s only natural to get aroused kissing her.
But this isn’t just any woman. I shouldn’t be having lustful thoughts about her. Not when she’s been so good to help me, to read up on ways we can improve our image, to work with me and the PR team fixing this mess I’ve made.
Did she do all this with Gabriel too? Other than one picture of the two of them touring a wedding venue, I couldn’t find any other posts of them together.
Not that I was looking.
Would she help Gabriel the same way? Bring him a glass of Scotch at night? Massage his shoulders?
Kiss him?
I stand, suddenly restless. “I have more work to do.”
She blinks at my sudden change in demeanor. “Okay. Do you want me to heat you up some dinner?”
“No.” I pull at my collar, the fabric too tight against my neck. “I mean, no, thank you. I’ll be in my office.”
“Goodnight, then,” she says softly, her gaze a weight on me as I leave the room.
The only thing is, do I want it there?