“I highly doubt that.”
She shrugs and takes another sip. I make a mental note to talk with Michael about that, because he won’t lie to me. And he’s been my agent since the beginning. If there’s a problem, he’ll tell me.
But by the same token, if she wasn’t good enough to write for me, he wouldn’t have suggested it.
“And I think you have things to tell me too?” I ask.
Her eyes sparkle. “Negotiations? Maybe.”
“Let me propose something, and we’ll go from there.”
Erin leans forward on the table, the position putting her breasts in the perfect position to stare at them. I need to spend some more time with them, because even clothed, they look delicious. “I’m listening," she says.
“If there’s no reason that you can’t, I propose that for the rest of this gig, you live with me. During work hours, you’ll write, and the rest of the time, you’re mine.”
She’s close enough that I watch her pupils dilate. The idea fascinates her. “I need to be able to leave for things,” Erin says. “Things I’ve already planned.”
“Of course.” I incline my head.
“And what kind of things do you want me to do in this time that I’m yours?”
I take a sip of my wine. I wish I could have bought her a glass, but she assured me it was fine. Erin didn't make a fuss about how she isn’t twenty-one yet, didn't even ask me to sneak her some wine or sway the waiter. It was like she was aware of her age compared to mine but didn't give a fuck.
I say, “We can figure that out together. But very little of it will involve clothing.”
She laughs, eyes bright. “I can’t believe that I’m doing this.”
“So that’s a yes?”
Lifting the glass in a cheer to me, she says, “Yes.”
“Excellent.”
The waiter comes over, and Erin sits backwards quickly. Pity the view is gone.
“Shit,” the waiter says, and that’s all the warning that we got before spaghetti falls all over Erin. Sauce is everywhere, sliding down her shirt, soaking into the fabric, and staining her lap.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” the waiter says, placing my food down. “I’ll grab a towel.”
I hold up a hand. “That won’t be necessary. Bring me the check and put my food in a to-go box. Seems we’ll be dining at home after all.”
The waiter, looking guilty, goes to do what I ask, and Erin is still blinking, confused. I can’t help but grin, because her covered with sauce is honestly hilarious. “Well,” I say, “now I have a valid reason to get you out of those clothes.”
“As long as I get food,” she says. “Anything.”
We’re out of the restaurant and heading back to my place in five minutes flat. Fine with me. I can’t want to be alone with her again.
6
Erin
Being covered in tomato sauce is not my idea of sexy. In fact, it’s kind of gross. Cold and sticky. But at the very least I’m not hungry anymore, having devoured half of Malik’s giant portion of alfredo.
I need to get out of these clothes now that my stomach isn’t screaming at me. “I’m not planning on going home and getting things until tomorrow,” I told him. “Have anything that I can borrow?”
He’s leaning over the kitchen island, looking at me with dark, hungry eyes. This arrangement that we’re about to have. I can’t believe that I said yes. But how can I say no? I want him, and when he looks at me like that, my body instantly responds. I’m wet. Just another thing to add to what’s all over my clothes.
“The washing machine is through there,” he points to a small hallway. “Meet me upstairs once you put your clothes in.”
I swallow. That will mean that I’m going upstairs naked. But I would have ended up like that anyway. “Okay.”
His eyes don’t leave me until he’s out of the room, and I shudder. The sheer heat in his eyes is enough to drive me mad. I don’t think that I’ve ever put together a load of laundry so fast. I don’t even care that technically these clothes need to be in separate loads. They’re going together today.
Walking through someone else’s house naked is…terrifying. And thrilling. Along with the fact that Malik and I have never been naked together. I've never been technically naked with anyone; I didn't let my ex see much of me in our short dating window with everything done in the back of a dark car.
It’s not hard to find where he wants me to go. The second floor is essentially one giant room behind a set of thick wooden double doors. The lights in the room are dim, but warmth and light shines from the bathroom.
Malik is in the tub. And by tub, I mean a pool of water that’s nearly the size of the bathroom in my apartment. Water drips from his hair like he just dunked underneath. The glimpse I have of his body…
Fuck.
I squeeze my legs together as he takes me in.
“I wasn’t sure if candles would be too much,” he says with a smirk.
The light in the bathroom is warm and buttery and comforting. “Maybe too much for the first time.”
There’s still tomato sauce on my skin. I’m very aware of it as I walk to the tub and slip into it. Malik meets me halfway, arms coming around my body and drawing me down into the delicious, searing heat of the bath.
“Time to get you clean.” The way he says it makes it feel like he’s saying anything but that. But I relax into him as he swipes a washcloth slowly across the skin of my chest. Lower, where I’d stained my legs, and when he abandons the washcloth entirely and slips his hand between my thighs, I gasp.
His mouth brushes my neck where it meets my shoulder, a hot kiss that runs directly down to meet where his fingers are toying. Barely brushing me, just feathery light touches that aren’t nearly enough.
Malik settles us against the back of the tub. “That wasn’t the dinner I’d intended,” he said. “But I can’t argue with the outcome.”
Holy shit. I am naked in a bathtub with Malik Ellis and he’s about to fuck my brains out. I’m not sure that my mind can fully process that fact, and arousal pours through my body like I’ve been shoved under a running fountain of it.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
“That this can’t possibly be real.”
Using his legs, Malik spreads mine wide, allowing him to enter me with his fingers and brush my clit with his thumb. “How’s this? Does this feel real to you?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
He continues his slow exploration of me while my body tries to get more out of him. My hips rock toward his fingers, and finally, I reach down and cover his hand with mine.
“Stop,” he says.
I do.
“Take your hands and put them behind your back.”
The sound that comes out of me is one that I can’t help, but I still obey. My arms are now trapped between my body and his. Which is why he wants them there. Because like this, with his hand toying with me, I’m at his mercy.
Behind me, his cock is hard and thick. I can almost reach it with my hands, but I don’t dare. Not yet, anyway. “This is your reward,” he says softly. “For earlier.”