Beautiful Boss (Beautiful Bastard #4.5)

“Oh God,” I gasped, “oh . . . Oh—”

I closed my eyes, feeling a wave of heat move from between my legs and across the surface of my skin before everything exploded into sensation. His teeth pressed to my neck, and his hands cupped my breasts, and his wild noises told me he was going to fucking come only seconds before he turned brutal and frantic, pushing so deep into me he was pressed all along the length of my body from thigh to shoulder.

We lay naked on the couch, me on my back with Will’s head resting on my stomach. “I’m sorry I left this morning,” I said, curling my fingers through his hair. “I know you said it was fine, but I wanted to say it again.”

He looked up, resting his chin near my hipbone. “I know, Plum. And for the record, you’re allowed to be mad and need space.”

“I turned off your alarm clock. I wasn’t being very nice.”

He laughed before leaning over the edge of the couch, returning with my backpack. “I’m sure we’re going to do or say a few not-nice things to each other over the next fifty years. If they’re all as nefarious as giving each other a couple extra hours of sleep, we’ll be in pretty good shape.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, watching him rifle through the front pocket. He lifted a marker before returning the bag to the floor, and pulled off the cap. “Decorating me again?”

He hummed as he began to draw.

A tree, roots that started at the edge of my hipbone and moved down, spreading. He filled it in, eyes narrowed in concentration as the fine tip of the marker moved back and forth, right up to the very edges of the design.

I lifted my head, peering down my body to get a closer look. “It’s like yours,” I said, motioning to the tree on his bicep, the roots that wrapped around the muscle.

“A little.”

“We should really look into getting you some coloring books,” I told him, smiling before letting my head rest back against my arm.

“Wouldn’t be quite the same, though, would it?”

I pushed my fingers through his hair again, watching the way the colors shifted in the dying light. I could feel the marker move, smell the ink, and when I looked again, I saw that he was carefully drawing individual leaves.

“Now when you go away Wednesday, I’ll still be there,” he said.

“You’re always here,” I said, touching the side of his face, tapping it gently so he’d look up at me.

His blue eyes were almost black in this light, so open and honest I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk out the door in the morning, let alone get on a plane and fly to California in three days.

Five

Will

Hanna left before the sun was up on Wednesday, bending to kiss my forehead on her way out.

“Bye, baby,” she whispered, thinking I was still asleep. “I’ll see you Friday.”

She turned to leave, but I pushed up, shuffling behind her to the front door, where she had her suitcase and laptop bag packed and ready.

“Can I make you some coffee?” I mumbled, squinting at her. “Put it in a travel mug?”

She laughed when I absently reached down and scratched myself through my boxers. Shaking her head, she told me, “Go back to bed, sleepyhead.”

“Think I’ll go run.”

Stepping forward, she kissed me, and wasn’t fast enough to get away before I pulled her closer by her hips, held her tight against me.

Hanna smiled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around my neck. “You’re so warm.”

“When do you get home on Friday?” I asked against her mouth.

“Mmmm . . . late. Around ten?”

I stepped back, rubbing my eyes. “Wait. Where are you going this trip?”

Laughing again, she stretched to kiss my jaw. “Berkeley.” She pecked me one more time and then stepped back. “My cab is outside. I’ll call when I get there.”

“You’re being awfully quiet over there.”

Jensen’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts and I blinked up at him across the table. He was down in the city from Boston, and we had joined Max and Bennett for a late lunch at Le Bernardin.

“Just wondering how things are going for Hanna,” I said. “She’s giving her job talk right now.” I tilted my wrist, looking at my watch, and corrected, “No, she finished about an hour ago.” Picking up my phone, I registered that she hadn’t even texted to let me know she’d landed safely.

“What did she say?” Bennett asked, misinterpreting my attention to my phone.

“Oh, just . . .” I waved him off, shaking my head. “No updates yet. I’m sure it went great.”

“I’m sure they’re already begging her to accept an offer,” Max said, smiling reassuringly. Out of the three of them, he watched me the most closely today, having heard both Hanna and I occasionally ramble about the job hunt, the idea of moving, the idea of staying, what our lives might look like a few months down the road.