“How do you love me?”
He raised his face, cupped her cheeks, and gazed into her green eyes. Those eyes that owned him, that heart that knew him, this woman that consumed him. “With every part of me. With all of my heart. I love you every day, every hour, every moment. I love you always, and madly, and truly.”
She trembled against him and squeezed her thighs tighter against his legs. “Did you ever think it would be like this when we first met? That we’d still feel this way nearly a decade later?”
He shook his head and ran a hand through the soft tangle of her hair, the auburn strands falling over his fingers. “No. I could never have known what this could become. All I knew was you affected me like no one else ever had.”
“And do I still?” she asked with a sneaky smile, as her hands tiptoed their way up the front of his shirt, unbuttoning it.
He dragged his hands down her sides then under her purple top, his skin heating as he cupped her breasts. “Look at me. Look at us,” he said, his eyes holding hers tight. “I can't keep my hands off of you. You are the most daring, confident, sexy woman I have ever known. That was all I knew the night we met. You gave me your body, and you took my heart. I've never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
“Is there anything else you want? Anything else I can give you?”
He squeezed her rear, his fingers kneading the flesh, and shook his head. “I swear I’m the happiest bastard alive.”
She dipped her head to his neck and kissed a path to his ear. “Are you sure?”
He chuckled softly. What more could he ask for from her? He might have some dirty dreams, but what man didn’t? He couldn’t help where his thoughts strayed from time to time, and the things he dreamed of doing to her. But hell, this woman put on a wig, pretended to be a stranger, and let him screw her on the deck of a boat.
“I want for nothing, Julia,” he said, tugging her close.
She yanked up her skirt and unzipped his pants. “Then make love to me on our balcony.”
“Don’t you know every time I touch you, whether it’s rough or tender, hard or fast, that I’m making love to you?”
She ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “I know that. I’ve never doubted it.”
Then he did just that, yanking her on him and thrusting up into her, taking her on the balcony of their home. They’d done it like this eight years ago, and they’d do it again next week, and the week after, and the one after that.
After they came, she snuggled against him, and whispered, “I’m thirsty.”
He laughed. “Good thing you’re a bartender. Grab that drink and down the hatch with it.”
He reached for her glass on the corner table and handed it to her. She took a sip then thrust it to him. “Your turn. Try it. It has honey in it.”
“Honey. I wonder where that idea came from?” he mused.
“From my honey,” she said playfully.
He knocked some back and tapped the glass. “That’s a damn fine drink. It’s close to what you want. You want an original cocktail.”
Her eyes lit up like sparklers, and she snapped her fingers. “I think you might be onto something.”
“That so?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I had an idea while we were fucking.”
He laughed. “To fuck again?”
“No. Something to add to the drink. For the cocktail.”
“You were thinking of my cock-tale?”
“I’m always thinking of your cock-tale, and yes, that got me going. I think I know what to make now.”
He smacked her rear. “Then get inside, woman, and fix me a drink.”
When he tasted what she’d whipped up, his eyes danced with excitement and his mouth was a happy place. “You are no one-trick pony. This is a helluva drink.”
The next day at work, Clay rapped on the doorway of Tyler’s office. It was a courtesy. The door was wide open, and Tyler lifted his head, looking up from the mountain of papers on his desk.
“What’s the story? You got it sorted?” Clay asked.
Tyler nodded, a satisfied expression on his face. “Like a pro, man,” he said, then mimed dunking a basketball.
Clay nodded. “Good work.”
“You want to look it over?”
He shook his head. “Nope.” He cleared his throat. “Listen. I want you to go after these deals. The risky ones. I trust you.”
Tyler set down his pen and studied Clay’s expression, trying to read him. “You do?”
“Of course. We’re in this together. You bring something to this firm that I don’t have.”
“Insanity?”
Clay laughed. “That, and your willingness to bungee jump. Just keep using a helmet, and be the ferocious, confident, meticulous bastard I know you can be.”