Page 89 of Love Marks
“Yes. I only had two glasses, but thank you for checking.” I reach for her hand, intertwining our fingers, and the movement sends my heart racing. She beams up at me. “Is this okay?”
“More than okay.”
I step closer to her and snake my other arm around her. “This okay?”
She gazes up at me, her lips parting. “Yes, it’s okay.”
I lean down and brush her hair to the side, pressing my lips to her neck softly. “This?”
She lets out a moan of agreement that sounds close to a yes, but I can’t wait any longer. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and bring her mouth to mine. I let my tongue explore her mouth, loving the feeling of her wrapped around me. As I deepen the kiss, she moans again, the sound going straight to my cock.
I pull back to ease up but she reaches for me, capturing my mouth again and taking control. She rolls against me and I groan. She pulls back this time, leaning her forehead against mine. “Wesley.”
I groan and shift away from her. “You cannot say my name like that. Not here.” I chuckle and let out a pained breath.
She smiles. The little vixen — she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. I shake my head, distracted. This isn’t why I wanted to take this walk, dammit. I see a bench nearby and move towards it, bringing her over. I sit down and settle her next to me.
“Okay. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
She shifts, looking nervous now. “Okay. Is it something bad? Because I’ve had a really great night and if you’re going to ruin it can we maybe just wait until tomorrow?”
I want to reach for her, but instead I bring my hand to the back of my neck. “I don’t think it’s bad. The last thing I want to do is upset you. I don’t know.”
She groans and runs her hand down her face. “Oh god. The anticipation is worse. Just get it over with, whatever it is.”
I intertwine our fingers again, tracing my thumb over the back of her hand. “I’ve been thinking…about your job.”
She pales. “You’re firing me?” Her voice shakes.
“What? No. No.” I grip her hand tighter. “I was thinking maybe the restaurant at the hotel. I spoke to the chef and she’s open to having you start as a line cook, training under her. If that would interest you.”
She pulls her hand away from mine and looks away. Shit, no. She’s upset. Shit, shit, shit.
“What? What did I say wrong?” I ask, panicking.
She sighs. “That is — Wesley, you can’t do that.” She shakes her head.
“Do what?”
“Do favors for me because we’re sleeping together! I already told you that can’t happen,” she says, her voice rising.
I shake my head. “That’s not — I just thought you would like that kind of work more, and then you and I wouldn’t be working together so closely.”
She rears back like she’s been struck. “You don’t like working with me?”
“No!” God, why is everything coming out completely wrong? “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean…can’t you understand why it’s difficult for us, you working for me? As my…”
“Maid.” She deadpans. “You can say the fucking word. You’re the one who made it happen.”
I flinch. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to upset you. I thought you would be excited.”
She softens. “I am, Wesley. That sounds like a dream to me. But I have to get it because I deserve it, not because you pulled some strings and made it happen. No.”
I feel a swell of anger that she doesn’t believe she deserves this. “You do deserve it. I didn’t just snap my fingers and get you a job, Quinn. I gave your resume to the head chef and explained all about your restaurant idea and she said you sounded really passionate and she’d be happy to interview you. It’s just an interview, and it has nothing to do with our relationship. Nothing.”
It’s quiet for a few moments.
“Okay,” she says, finally, her voice firm.