I push the cracked door open to find Chloe tucked under a blanket on the couch, sleeping. Baxter immediately settles himself into his bed near the fireplace. My footsteps on the wood floor creak, causing her to startle. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she sits up, her wavy red hair loose and wild around her shoulders. She’s wearing the silk camisole from the lounge set that drives me crazy, one side’s tiny strap has fallen off her shoulder exposing more skin.

“Hey,” she says, stretching her arms overhead as I approach. “What time is it?”

“Late,” I say. If the hunger in my voice isn’t evidence of my building need for her, my dick swells when I pull the blanket back to find her in lace panties.

“How did the meeting go?” she asks.

“We’re getting close. Two weeks out.”

She smiles. “Are you excited?”

“It’s not a done deal until the ink is dry on the documents.”

“It’s okay to be excited. To take a breath and realize you’re getting what you wanted.”

With her tank top askew, it allows me better access. I lean down and kiss along her collarbone.

“What is it that I want?” I ask against her skin. “Hmm?”

“Voltaire Telecom,” she whispers.

I’ve got plans that didn’t involve touching her, but I can’t help myself. I slide my hand between her thighs and cup her. I can already feel the wet heat soaking through the crotch of her panties.

“Guess again.”

“Mmm,” she moans, then rocks into my hand.

Do I crave Chloe’s body? Yes. Do I love pleasuring her and taking pleasure from her? Most definitely. But I also want to spend time with her outside the bedroom. And I know with my work schedule, we haven’t spent much time together outside of social events since the weekend in the Hamptons.

I pull my hand back.

“Chloe, I—”

She leans forward and silences me with a kiss. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer as she climbs into my lap. Her smooth thighs bracket my hips as she presses her center against my erection and the words die on my tongue.

“Did you play WordIt today?” she asks. Her skin is sleep warm and feels amazing underneath my palms.

“I haven’t had a chance.”

“Spoiler alert. It was FUCKME,” she says, unbuckling my belt.

“That’s two words and six letters,” I argue, guiding her tank top over her head.

“You’re quite the wordsmith,” she says, pulling her thong to the side before slowly lowering herself onto my cock. She gasps.

“Jesus, Chloe.” Her slick pussy grips me so fucking tight.

I hold her hips, needing a minute before I can move.

“I’ve been waiting for you to walk through that door and fill me up. I already touched myself thinking about it.”