Page 28 of The Boss Upstairs
“Amazing,” I say, jaw still on the floor. “I’d love this closet.”
He smiles. “I’m sure it would be more colorful if it were yours.”
“It definitely would be. I love color.”
I stand in front of his impressive collection of ties, each one more fabulous than the previous one. They are folded neatly into a series of small square cubbies, every pattern in the book; plaid, paisley, stripes, solids, flowers and even polka-dots. “This spot is quite colorful.”
I can feel him as he inches closer behind me. My body stands to attention, in anticipation of his touch. I desperately want him to reach out. I know he wants to. I can feel it in every cell of my body.
We both stand for the longest time, drinking in the delicious moment. Neither one of us dares to move. Finally, he places a hand softly on my arm, leans into me, and presses his face very lightly against the back of my head, just under my high up-do. He’s being a gentleman, not crossing the line. “Your hair smells amazing.”
I close my eyes, wanting more. Every woman has a sweet spot, and mine is the back of my neck. Donovan knew this and he always kissed me there. I haven’t been touched there in over two years. All I can think about is Weston’s soft lips on my skin. “Kiss my neck,” I whisper, the words shocking me and sending my heart into overdrive.
Weston doesn’t utter a single word. Doesn’t move. I desperately want to take the words back. Three little words. What was I thinking? Did I cross the line? Did I mess everything up?
