As if she understood this was a bargaining game, she crossed her arms. “That’s a big play, Finch. I know how much your fitness routine means to you.”
“Big enough for you to stay?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. I have my own car here, I could drive myself home.”
“Where is the chivalry in that? Being equal and treated with respect does not negate the idea of being a gentleman. Plus, it’s slightly mercenary. If I take you home in the morning for clothes, we could even shower together. In fact, I really like that idea.”
When she bit her lip, he knew he’d won. He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms, nibbling the side of her neck. She tilted her head, allowing him access. “Fine,” she said. “But I’m not getting up at a time that starts with a four to shower, no matter how hot the idea of you and soapy water sounds.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “What if I throw in a breakfast burrito?” His fingers moved to the buttons of her blouse and began to open them slowly.
“If it comes out of one of those two hundred calorie prepped meals and is solely made of egg whites, then no.”
“Fine, I’ll scramble eggs, you can make the toast.” He slid the blouse down her shoulders, kissing a trail along the revealed skin.
Emerson reached for the hem of his T-shirt, and he obliged by releasing her and bending forward so she could pull it over his head. “Eggs are good, but we still haven’t agreed on a time. No alarm should desecrate my ears before six.”
Connor nudged her backwards down the corridor toward his bedroom, taking note of the pretty lace bra she wore. The practical Ms. Dyer had surprised him. “I like this,” he said, running the tip of his finger across the crest of her breast.
“I feel a six a.m. alarm call is a good price to pay for the ability to admire it.” Emerson’s voice wavered as she reached for his belt.
6:00 a.m. He could still squeeze in a swim.
Fuck.
He could even tolerate the congested evening swim if it meant he got to sleep in with Emerson. “Five forty-five, my last offer,” he said, even though he knew he didn’t mean it.
“Deal.” Emerson stepped out of his reach to offer him her hand.
He took it and raised it to his lips. “Deal.”
The way Emerson looked at him, standing just outside his bedroom in her bra and jeans, her dark hair down messy around her shoulders and a look of need on her face, took his breath away.
Somehow in the last three weeks, Emerson Dyer had shifted from a name his family loathed to someone he was curious about, to someone he was starting to care deeply for.
He’d wanted to solve her problems for her as they’d talked over dinner. He’d love her perspective on the industry. He admired the way she talked so freely about the people she worked with, who she appeared to think so much of—something that made him question his own relationship with the people who worked for him.
Who’d have thought that out of all the women on the planet, he’d fall for the daughter of his father’s enemy.
“I really like you, Emerson.”
Emerson blushed slightly, a gentle pink hue that only made her even more appealing. “I like you, too, Connor, very much.”
He took her hand and led her to his room and, for a moment, wondered what she’d think of the space. Deep blues and whites to remind him of the ocean he loved to swim in. They undressed each other in silence, the act feeling almost sacrosanct. When he reached for the covers to pull them back and allow Emerson to slip inside, she kissed his shoulder, the small gesture adding to the intimacy of the moment.
Connor followed her into the bed and pulled Emerson close to him, his arm around her, the length of her body warm against his. Her skin was so smooth to his touch, and he couldn’t get enough. Pressing his lips to hers, he savored the taste of her as his tongue met hers. His hand trailed the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip.
Emerson explored his body with confidence. She placed a kiss to his chest while her hand moved down his abs until it brushed the tip of his dick. When she reached for him, he gasped. “I fucking love it when you touch me,” he groaned.
The firm hold made him twitch.
She moved from his grasp and began to kiss his pecs, his abs, his hip. And he prayed she was heading where he hoped. Unable to take his eyes off her, one of her hands holding the hair from her face and the other holding his dick, Connor wondered how he’d gotten so fucking lucky.
“Emerson,” he warned.
“Let me,” she murmured.
When she licked the tip, every muscle in his body tightened. When she took him deep into her mouth, he lost all sense of rational thought. He tried to form thoughts about ensuring the woman he was with came first, but the way Emerson sucked him gently as she moved up his dick made it impossible.
Part of him just wanted to come right then, with her perfect lips pursed around him and a fierce look of concentration and lust singing in her eyes. But he wanted a lot more than a quick orgasm. Hell, they could save that for the shower in the morning.
Stretching forward, he reached for her arms and pulled her back on his body. Emerson squealed at the
