She looks over and smiles. “I love it here, Mr. Davis.”
“Call me Cannon.”
She dips her head. “Cannon.”
And once again, my cock hardens as I picture her sprawled out under me, screaming my name as I pound into her sweet little pussy. A growl rumbles in my throat.
“Cannon?” she says again, pulling me from my thoughts.
I look over at her, brows raised. “Hmm?”
She jerks her head to the barista, who’s wearing a knowing look. “She asked if you want your usual?”
“Please.” I pay for our coffees, and then we slowly make our way back to the elevators.
On the ride up to her floor, I say, “I lied.”
“About?” she hedges.
“Heather did mention something.”
Her face scrunches up in the most adorable fucking way. “Grrr.”
I chuckle. “She thinks I should ask you out.”
“She gets a boyfriend and now she’s playing matchmaker. It’s like I don’t even know her.” She shakes her head in mock disappointment.
“You’re funny.”
She jerks a shoulder. “I have my moments,” she quips before blowing into the small hole of her coffee lid.
Jesus, those lips. I immediately avert my gaze to the numbers on the elevator panel and pull my shit together before returning my attention to her.
“So, would you be interested in a date?”
The corners of her mouth tip up. “I would.”
“Are you free this weekend?”
It’s only a slight flinch, and if I hadn’t been watching for it, I wouldn’t have noticed. “I have plans this weekend. I’m free Sunday though, or the weekend after?” She says the last part in hope that I won’t change my mind.
“Next weekend, I have a charity thing. If you’re interested, you could be my date.”
“Hmm.” She rolls her eyes toward the ceiling and taps her chin. “Do I want to put on a fancy dress and go on a date with an attractive man?” She drags her gaze back to me. “Yes, please.”
I chuckle again, appreciating this side of her that I don’t get to experience at Veil.
She really is funny.
Here’s to hoping reality outweighs the fantasy.
Chapter Nineteen
Makayla
A single blue rose is tucked under the wiper blade on the driver side. Annoyed, I snatch the rose and toss it on the ground before climbing behind the wheel and heading home.
My stomach has been is in knots all day. It started with the incident in the break room. The authoritative tone in Cannon’s voice when I was cleaning up the coffee I’d spilled, the lust blazing in his dark eyes when I looked up at him, and the crackle of familiar energy between us when he helped me from the floor. He smelled so good, all masculine and woodsy.
In the elevator, on the way down to the coffee bar, I’d been nervous. Mostly because he was my boss, but also because I felt insanely attracted to him. Out of curiosity, I watched the barista make his coffee—black with a splash of cream. We fell into an easy conversation, and on the elevator ride back up, it was like we knew each other.
When I got back to my office and settled behind my desk, it hit me like a punch to the gut.
It wasn’t an instant attraction. It was a connection. One we’d been building for the past five weeks. The lust in his eyes was because he already knew what I looked like naked. The authoritative tone in his voice—much softer in the bedroom—isn’t one I’d easily forget. How could I forget the voice of the man who whispers dirty things in my ear while he’s buried deep inside me? I didn’t pick up on it the first time we met, but only because I was too distracted by his overwhelming presence in such a small space. And his woodsy scent is something I’ve committed to memory.
Cannon Davis is X. I’m sure of it.
My head is spinning and my heart is racing by the time I walk into my apartment. I go straight to my bedroom and dump my purse on the bed, then head for the bathroom. While the tub is filling, I drop a lavender bath bomb into the hot water, then head to my closet to undress.
My phone chirps inside my purse with a text notification. I quickly grab it and race into the bathroom to shut off the water. Once I settle into the bath, I open the message from Heather.
Cannon told me he asked you out.
I reply, He did. We have a date next weekend.
I was relieved that Heather had a lunch date with Jesse today, because my head and heart were a mess, and I needed time to process how I felt about everything.
After a long soak in the tub, I go to the kitchen to whip myself up something for dinner, except I have absolutely no appetite. I settle on a strawberry yogurt before heading to bed.
It’s still light out as I fall into bed and stare at the ceiling fan above me, trying to make sense of all this. There are too many coincidences. Like, how does X know where I live and work if we don’t share personal information? He sent me that dress the first night I was scheduled at Veil, and I was too excited to catch it. Heather never said a word, either. Because she already knew.
My thoughts drift back to the graduation, when Heather approached me and gave me her number. Cannon was there, but where?
When Victor dumped me, it was me who’d called Heather and asked her to meet for drinks, but who paid our bill that night? Was it Cannon? Was he close by listening to our conversation?
It was Heather who suggested Veil and took me there. Was she even a member, or was Cannon behind the whole thing? Is Cannon really a fantasy guide, or is he the anonymous owner? It would explain why Heather was so eager to give me her membership. Because she didn’t have one. Cannon was paying my way.
Or was it Desiree?
Is she
