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FAITH

I t’s nearly impossible to focus on work for the rest of the day. My mind is so preoccupied that I water the same plant on my desk three times and have to drain it over the kitchen sink so I don’t kill it. I would one hundred percent blame Ford for the death of one of my plant babies, and the thought of him smirking and teasing me about it does nothing to help the butterflies fluttering excitedly around in my stomach.

Even one of my team members, Kelly, comments that I seem out of sorts, and I have to laugh and say I didn’t sleep well last night to play it off. On the bright side, the lie means she buys me my favorite coffee to help me feel better, which is so lovely it momentarily distracts me from the events in the meeting room earlier. I value having a good relationship with all those on my team, and in times like this, where I’m more distracted than I’ve ever been, it means that they cut me some slack. Thank God, because I’ve been reviewing the same outline for the past hour but am no further on with making notes on it like I should be.

Ford has achieved something no other man has done in years, hell, in perhaps my whole life—he’s successfully distracted me from my work.

Worse, perhaps, is the dawning realization that all the time I’ve spent absolutely convinced that I detested Ford was actually just time spent lying to myself. Because now, after what happened between us, it seems glaringly obvious that I never really hated him at all.

In actual fact, all those feelings were just pent-up desire. Desire that I refused to let myself even acknowledge until I couldn’t physically ignore it anymore. And now that it’s been unleashed, I feel like it’s taking over my whole, entire being.

At lunch, I frantically text Natalie—actually Natalie this time—and explain everything that happened this morning, unable to process it by myself anymore. She immediately calls me and, like I knew she would, starts demanding all the details.

“Oh my God, Faith!” she screams down the phone, so loud I have to hold it away from my ear. “This is the most exciting thing you’ve told me in years. Oh my God, I need to know everything. Fill me in!”

I laugh at her. Natalie’s right; I spend a lot of time working and furthering my career and not a lot of time out socializing or meeting guys. Ford is the first man ever to make me feel like this.

I tell her everything, from how he teased me to him touching me to us nearly getting caught.

“It’s like a total office love story!” she insists, and I can feel her excitement through the phone, echoing my own. “If you guys get married, I better be the maid of honor. And I want credit for getting you two together!”

I laugh. “How exactly do you get credit, Nat? You’ve never even met him.”

She scoffs like it’s obvious. “The only reason you guys messed around in that room is because you were trying to text me after all. I’m gonna start writing my wedding speech now. How dirty can I make it?”

I laugh again, telling her not to get ahead of herself even as I’m already imagining walking down the aisle in my dream dress to the head of Finance at the end. It’s an insane thought, but one I can’t get rid of for the rest of the afternoon.

By the time five o’clock finally rolls around, I nearly sprint out the office doors. I made Ford wait a couple of hours before fulfilling his demand to text him my address for tonight, and he replied with a winking emoji that I wanted to roll my eyes at but really just made me squirm.

The second I get home, I hop in the shower, taking my time shaving and exfoliating and using a deep conditioner mask I normally save for my self-care days. Afterward, I blow dry my hair and redo my makeup, purposefully taking longer than the tasks really need in order to drag out the hours I have left to wait. I’m not usually the kind of girl who gets hung up on a guy like this, but this whole day has thrown me for a loop.

There’s still an hour until Ford’s due to pick me up by the time I’m done with my hair and makeup, so I pick out my outfit—a cute black dress and heels—and grab myself a glass of white wine to try to relax. I call Natalie again to fill her in on the plans for tonight and get so caught up in talking to her that when there’s a knock on my door, I jolt.

Quickly hanging up on my best friend with a promise to update her on the date later, I grab a jacket and bag and open the door. The air escapes my lungs as I take in the man standing on the other side.

Ford looks … well, he looks like something out of my dreams.

I feel slightly less awkward about the fact I’m literally gawping at him because he’s staring right back at me with awe and hunger written all over his handsome face.

For a second, I genuinely consider telling him to cancel whatever plans he has and tugging him straight to my bed instead.

“Fuck, baby…” Ford groans, his voice gravelly and delicious. “You look fucking edible.”

I blush, trying to remember how to speak. “So do you,” I answer, clenching my thighs together to try and get rid of the pulsing between my legs at the sight of him. I slip out of my apartment, lock the door behind me, and take Ford’s offered arm so he can lead me out to his car.

“So, where are we going?” I ask once we’re inside the sleek, fancy-as-hell car that I’m in no way surprised he drives.

He grins at me, one hand on the wheel and the other on my thigh, driving me crazy in the best way.

“Telling you would ruin the surprise,” he says, and I roll my eyes at him as though I’m completely unaffected by his touch and voice and general overpowering presence.

We chat about life and work during the short drive to the restaurant, and when Ford opens my door and helps me out of the car, I gasp.

“I’ve seen this place in all the food reviewers’ blogs!” I squeal, excitement bubbling over. “I’ve been wanting to try it for ages but never had the time.”

Ford grins as he slips his hand into mine, squeezing once. “I’m glad you approve,” he says, leading me up the small steps and into the restaurant.

It’s just as amazing as I’ve seen everyone say it is. From the decor to the service to the food, it’s the best meal I’ve ever had. I catch Ford watching me eat more than once and dramatically moan when I bite into my dessert just to tease him. From the way his jaw ticks, I know I’ve hit my mark.

The server comes over with the bill, and automatically, I reach for my purse to pay my half.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ford practically growls across the table.

I pause, purse in hand, and raise my gaze to his, eyebrows arched. “Excuse me?”

Ford pins me with a stare that makes my panties wet instantly. “Put your purse away,” he states, enunciating every word.

I blink. “Why would I do that?” I challenge, rising to the bait. “I’m paying my half.”

Ford laughs. Laughs! “Oh baby,” he croons, leaning closer to me and making the rest of the restaurant fade into nothingness around us. “It’s a good thing you’re a quick learner because if you try to pay for anything when you’re with me ever again, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

I’m at a loss for words, shocked. Recovering as quickly as I can, I argue back, “I’m an independent woman, Ford. I can afford my half of dinner. I’m not some little girl you have to buy pretty things for.”

Ford’s eyes gleam. “I know you’re independent,” he says, voice low and hypnotizing. “I don’t doubt your strength for a damn second. But I asked you out, so I am going to buy you dinner. That’s that.”

He leaves me absolutely no room to continue arguing back, and I can’t deny the rush of warmth that spreads through me when he shows his dominant side like this. I do my best to hide how flustered I am, purely because I don’t want him to think he’s got the upper hand here—I’ve spent weeks establishing myself as a force to reckon with, after all—but Ford smirks and raises a brow at me, and I know he sees right through my hastily adorned facade.

He pays and then pulls out my seat for me, taking my hand in his as we walk out. I don’t want this date to be over, don’t want this night to be over. Now that Ford’s shown me who he really is, I want to discover every aspect of him.

“Come back to mine,” I say, looking up at him as we emerge into the cool evening air.

Ford pauses, tugging me closer to him so I’m pressed against his chest, not an inch between us. My blood heats rapidly, and need explodes through me as I remember his touch earlier in the meeting room.

“If I come back to yours, I’m claiming you as mine,” Ford growls, the words both a threat and a promise. If they’re meant to make me hesitate, however, they have the opposite effect. “Make sure that’s what you want, Faith, because I’ll never let you go.”

I don’t even pause to think about it. “Yes,” I breathe, need soaking the word. “That’s what I want, Ford. Claim me. Make me yours.”

Within seconds, he bundles us both into the car and floors it back to my place. Adrenaline and excitement bubble through me, and my thighs clench together as desire builds between them.

The second we get back to mine, the tension between us explodes. I don’t know which one of us moves first, but our lips crash together, and Ford’s hands grip my thighs and lift me so I’m straddling his waist.

“Bedroom’s down the hall on the right,” I mumble against his mouth, not willing to break the kiss fully just to give him the information. Ford tightens his hold on me, large hands cupping my ass and holding me tight to him as he makes quick work of navigating through my home toward the bedroom.

He lowers me to the bed on my back, following the movement with his body so he’s braced over me. I moan against his mouth, bordering on desperate for him and too turned on to feel even the slightest bit embarrassed about it.

My dress rides up between us, his belt buckle catching on the fabric and exposing the black lace of my thong. Ford breaks the kiss with a low groan that goes straight to my core, making me squirm.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

His hands skate up my thighs, thumbs stroking against the sensitive flesh on my inner thigh. Instead of touching where I need him most, he finds the zipper of my dress and drags it down, the sound of metal teeth unfastening loud over our fast breaths. I sit up a little so he can peel the dress off me, satisfaction blooming through me at the way his pupils grow, black engulfing the green of his eyes as he takes me in. I thank my past self for choosing a nice matching lingerie set to wear underneath.

Ford’s gaze is like a physical touch as it traces over my face, down to my chest, stomach, and hips. “I’ve never seen anything more fucking perfect in my life,” he praises, and I can’t help the little whimper that slips past my lips at his compliment.

“Ford,” I breathe, struggling to get out any word except his name. “I need you.”

Ford smirks, one finger tracing the lace at the edge of my bra and making me keen again. “I’ll give you everything you want, baby,” he promises, and I think I might have died and gone to heaven. Between his teasing touches and words, I’m burning up.

Ford’s lips skim over my neck, sucking on my pulse point, and some part of me desperately hopes he leaves a mark despite how annoying it would be to have to cover it with concealer for work. I want him to mark me, to claim me the way he promised, inside and out. I want to be his.

With one hand, he unclasps my bra, and then his mouth is on me again, nipping and licking sensitive skin. I spiral into a cloud of desire, wrapped up in the sensation of him. I claw at his shirt, fumbling with the buttons, needing to feel his skin on mine. He helps, shrugging the shirt off and throwing it to the floor, and my hands drop to his belt. I can already feel the outline of his length, long and hard, straining against the fabric, and my core flutters with anticipation.

With some more fumbling and help from Ford, he’s stripped down to nothing but his underwear, just like me. I drink in the sight of him in nothing but boxers, the carved outlines of the muscles on his chest and abs, the defined shape of his biceps and thighs, every inch of him more mouthwatering than I even imagined. Finally, my eyes catch on his cock, and I reach for him, slipping my hand beneath his waistband. He hisses through his teeth as my fingers stroke him slowly, finding this part of him just as damn perfect as the rest of him. Truly, it’s unfair how hot this man is. I mean, how is a girl supposed to cope?

“Faith,” he pants as I tug his underwear down so his cock springs free. Suddenly, I need to taste him more than I need air, and I shuffle closer to take him in my mouth. “Fuck!”

I’d smile if my mouth weren’t so full, loving the way he reacts to me. He’s so big I struggle to take all of him, but I give it my best shot. He cradles the back of my head, not pushing or controlling, just holding like he can’t bear not to be touching me. I swallow around him, and his jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth together, muscles straining for control. He tugs me away, and I begin to pout at him in protest before he says,

“If you keep going, I’m gonna fill your pretty little throat up instead of your perfect pussy,” he says, and I lose my breath at the filthy words. “Unless you want me to wear a condom.”

“Fuck no,” I answer immediately, then hurry to add, “I’m clean and on birth control. I want you to fill me up.”

Ford curses under his breath and then consumes me with a kiss, sending me spiraling all over again. His hand goes to my underwear, and I expect him to drag them off me, but instead, he fists the fabric at the side and tugs until it rips. I gasp as the ruined panties fall away.

“I’ll buy you a new set,” he murmurs against my lips. Then he touches me, and I can’t find any words to answer him even if I tried.

My breath catches in my lungs as he begins to press into me, filling me inch by inch. I fight to keep my eyes open against the pleasure, wanting to take in the expression on his face and the way his muscles tense and bunch as he loses himself in me.

“Fuck, Faith,” he pants, pleasure straining in his words and sending bolts of ecstasy through me. I love knowing I affect him just as much as he affects me, that this moment of us coming together the first time is as mindblowing for both of us. “You feel fucking incredible.”

I nod in agreement only because I’m too caught up in the feel of him to even attempt to form words. Finally, he’s all the way inside me, and I arch beneath him, silently begging him to move. I reach for him, winding my arms around his neck and pulling him closer to kiss him hungrily.

He swallows my moan as he moves his hips, fucking me in long strokes that wind pleasure tighter and tighter low in my stomach. Of their own accord, my thighs wrap around his hips as I move with him, taking him as deep as I can, wanting everything he can possibly give me.

Bracing his weight on one arm, he skates his hand down my bare skin, leaving a trail of sparks in his wake. I gasp and whine against his lips as his touch reaches my clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until I’m on the verge of exploding.

“Ford!” I cry out as bliss bursts through me, and I drown in the wave of an orgasm. Ford groans my name as he follows me over the edge, filling me just like I begged him to.

For a minute, we both just try to catch our breaths, our limbs tangled together and sweat coating our bodies. It feels so natural to lie here in his arms, sated and happy, like this was where I was always meant to be. I tilt my head back for a kiss, and Ford kisses me deeply and sweetly until I can’t deny my own feelings any longer.

No matter how crazy it may be, I’m falling for him.