Home > Chandler (Fixed #5)(29)

Chandler (Fixed #5)(29)
Author: Laurelin Paige

If I were as fair and as prone to blushing as she was, I’d be bright red right now.

I duck my head. Focus on massaging her ankle. Tease her instead. “All these nice things you keep saying about me. It’s like you like me.”

“Oh, sod off.”

“Look, you can admit it. We just discussed how liking me is actually not a problem. I’m not going to get in the way of you and your goals. In fact, I’ll help you as much as I can.”

“Helping me work off my frustration in public bathrooms is not what I need right now.”

“No, princess Genny.” I use her father’s nickname mixed with mine just to poke at her. “I’ll help you with Hudson.”

Shit. What am I saying?

I have no idea why I keep offering Hudson as a token of my affection. I already know he’s not keen on Accelecom, and I’d be fooling myself to think that the ideas brought forth by a twenty-three-year-old woman—yes, gender does matter in this business—will be enough to persuade him to take another look.

Yet when she asks, “Got any plan how to pull that off?” I wrack my brain for a solution.

“Actually, I do.” I rest my hand on her ankle and lean forward. “Remember that date I want to take you on? That’s happening. I want to see you bright and early on Saturday.”

“Oh, no. I’m not going out on a date with you. I already told you that a mill—”

I cut her off. “It won’t actually be a date.” Well, it will be as far as I’m concerned, but anyway. “It will be an opportunity. I’m taking you to my parents’ vacation home in the Hamptons for the weekend. They’re having their annual end of summer/Labor Day party, and this year it’s also where Hudson and Alayna are presenting their new babies to their friends and family. It will be a perfect chance for him to get to know you on a personal basis.” It’s brilliant. I can’t believe I thought of it. “If we play our cards right, we might even be able to steal him for a few minutes of business talk.”

She squints at me, hesitant. “You’re sure your brother won’t mind?”

“No, he loves business talk no matter the time or location. Even when he’s not working, he’s working.”

She delivers a kick that lands awfully close to my family jewels. “I meant, are you sure he won’t mind me intruding on your family’s holiday?”

“You won’t be intruding. You’ll be coming as my date.” And, yeah, that’s the real impetus behind this idea. Sure, I want her to get what she wants with her career, but I also want her with me. I want her to meet my family. I want everyone to meet her.

“Chandler Pierce’s date.” She tilts her head like she’s mulling it over. “Will I be photographed in the rags?”

Let me pause to say that I’ve had pictures taken with many women. Many, many, many women. It’s not a big thing.

But at the mention of being photographed with her? I’m into that. I’m so into it, I’ll hire my own photographer if that’s the only way to make it happen.

Problem is, I don’t think she feels the same. Luckily, for her, it’s not an issue. “There won’t be any media at this. It’s low-key. It’s family and close friends.”

“So I’m only posing as a date in front of them? I guess that might be acceptable.”

I ignore the disappointment that she doesn’t want to flaunt a relationship that doesn’t exist between each other the way that I do and remind myself that this is just the first step in winning her over. Maybe. Hopefully.

“But fair warning—there will be a lot of people at this thing. We might not get to talk to Hudson. If that’s the case, are you going to blame me for distracting you from your career goals?”

She raises her chin, and if her hands were untied, I imagine she’d put her hand over her heart—is that something Brits do too? “On my honor, I will not.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“But not really a date.”

“Exactly.” Or not exactly at all, but it’s fine.

And then, because it seems like it’s been forever since I’ve sampled her, and because she looks so perfect and vulnerable bound to the chair in her skimpy pajamas, and just because I want to and I’m not sure she’ll ever give me the opportunity again, I stand slightly and kiss her.

Somewhat surprisingly, she responds eagerly, her lips matching me as I keep kissing her. And keep kissing her. My hands tangle in her hair. I get aggressive. I nip at her lower lip. I swallow her taste. I fuck her mouth with my tongue. I pour everything into this kiss, and all I can think about is how, despite being so hard my balls hurt, I just want to keep kissing her and kissing her. And kissing her.

I’m pretty sure this has strong implications for what kind of feelings I’m developing over the girl. Feelings that scare the fuck out of me. Feelings that make me want to do naughty, terrible things to the girl tied up beneath me. Feelings that are more instinctual in nature than emotional.

A blaring alarm in my head says I’m not ready for this. That it needs to stop. That I should pull away and leave before this relationship gets out of hand.

The twisting in my gut says I’m too late. It’s already out of hand.

And if it’s happening anyway, I might as well stay.

Right?

9

With her hands still bound behind her, I tilt Genevieve’s chair back against the desk.

She gasps, the movement surprising her. “What are you doing?”

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