Page 148 of Filthy Hot Billionaire
I laughed but nodded my head. I knew Guillermo well enough to know he would argue until we were both blue in the face. He was a very headstrong man, something I’d learned during his cooking lessons back in Texas.
“Fine.” I picked up my fork. “We’ll eat, and I’ll tell you that you’re hired after.”
His eyes glittered with amusement, the corners lifting although he tried to fight his smile.
He slipped out, dragging Stewart behind him.
“Did y’all know about this?” I asked, pointing toward Kieran and Knox with my fork.
“We might’ve had some idea,” Knox admitted.
“But only because I argued about the merits of being able to eat in the kitchen,” Kieran explained.
For the next half hour, the three of us managed to finish off most of the food. Thankfully, Guillermo had gone for quality over quantity, and there hadn’t been an overwhelming amount, just a vast selection. Because I knew he would insist on feedback, I’d carefully tried each thing, wanting to assure him my decision was sound.
“Any doubts?” Kieran prompted, pushing his plate away.
“Not a single one. I think he’s the perfect choice.”
“I agree.” Kieran finished the last of his wine.
“Now for dessert,” Knox said firmly, his deep baritone drawing my attention.
“No way can I eat another bite.” I had no desire to overeat. Not with them here. Not when every fiber of my being ached for them. It had taken every ounce of restraint I possessed just to make it through the meal.
Knox lifted his wineglass to his lips. “Who said anything about food?”
Heat flooded me, churning in my veins, warming me from the inside out.
I didn’t get a chance to ask what Knox had in mind before he was on his feet, stalking toward me. When he held out his hand to me, I took it, allowed him to help me to my feet. And when he clasped his hand with mine and led the way out of the dining room, I followed.
He went for the stairs, and my stomach pitched with excitement. But rather up—which would’ve taken us to my bedroom—Knox opted to go down. I followed, still giddy as the tension in my body ratcheted up a few notches.
When we made it to the lower level, I noticed someone had opened the glass sliders, bringing the outside in. Being that it was November in New York, I’d expected it to be cold, and it was, sure, but the chill in the air was being held back thanks to the many heaters that were strategically placed throughout. I couldn’t see them, but it was apparent they were working because the space was warm; the continuous flood of heat only interrupted every so often by a gentle breeze.
“Cold?”
I shook my head as Knox pulled me in close to him. I went willingly, soaking up his warmth as his hands cupped my face, his mouth fusing to mine.
This was what I’d been missing these past few days. His kiss, his touch. I inhaled his spicy, rich scent, let it go to my head. I was in heaven, lost in his kiss, safe in his arms. All the fear of being abandoned by him and Kieran dissipated as his tongue glided over mine. There was a sense of urgency in his movements, but I could tell Knox was holding back.
When we came up for air, Knox led the way to one of the oversized cushioned lounge chairs. He eased me down gently, then joined me, laying out on his side. I settled into the cushion, cuddling in close, not wanting to let go.
“I’ve missed you,” I admitted, watching his face to see his reaction.
Had I not been looking so closely, I wouldn’t have seen the relief that flashed in his gaze. Had he thought I was purposely keeping my distance? How could he? I’d texted them both numerous times. Granted, I’d kept my messages deliberately light and casual, mostly about work, not wanting to be pushy or demanding.
“This reminds me of that night,” he said softly.
I didn’t have to ask him which night he was talking about. I remembered it all too well. The memory had been fodder for both my pleasure and my pain over the years. I remembered that night in the hot tub, the way he’d seduced me, drawn out so many of my desires in such a short time. I recalled him taking me to the lounge chair, hovering over me, making me want things that both terrified and thrilled me. I remembered how easily he’d brought me to orgasm, but also how he’d so callously walked away.
“It’s not something I usually reflect on,” I told him, wanting him to know how much he’d hurt me with his actions. There were so many things Knox was keeping from me, but I refused to do the same. Where he was concerned, I had every intention of ensuring he knew how easily he could break me.
“I’m rewriting that night, Em,” he said, clearly picking up on my discomfort.
“I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“Let’s pretend it is.”
