you came all over my tongue. Not the way I can’t stop thinking about bending you over this desk and fucking your tight, little pussy again. Nothing.”
I froze, my mouth going dry. I couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Worse? I couldn’t believe that my pussy was throbbing at the thought of it.
“Point taken,” I squeaked out. I tried to swallow, but the dryness of my throat made it impossible, so I coughed instead. “How do we move forward?
I had to get this conversation back on track.
“As best we can,” he said, standing up straight. He didn’t take his eyes from mine. “We can avoid each other at work, but we’ll have to speak about everything outside of it.”
Beckett Cruz in my personal time? That sounded like a recipe for disaster.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” I asked. “Because I’m not afraid to tell you that I don’t. In fact, I can’t think of anything worse.”
“You can’t have it both ways. We can’t keep our relationship professional at work and ignore this mistake otherwise.”
A mistake it was, but ouch. Still kinda stung though.
“Really?” I asked. “Because that sounds like it’d be perfect.”
His eyes glittered with laughter. He raised his hand to his mouth and rubbed his thumb across his lower lip, drawing my eyes there. For some reason, the simple action was tantalizingly addictive, and I couldn’t take my eyes off his mouth.
Maybe it was because, despite the wedding hole in my memory, I knew exactly what it felt like to have his mouth on me, and that was something I knew I wouldn’t forget. Maybe ever.
“I mean it, Beckett,” I said, finally dragging my gaze back up to his. “I have no idea how it happened last night. I can’t remember, but I know that any interaction we have needs to be kept to a minimum.”
“Worried someone will find out?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly and pressed my hands against my stomach. “The girls have heard rumors that you’re married and one saw you wearing the ring.”
“I forgot to take it off. When I took you home, I came straight to work.”
“It doesn’t matter. Our lives are wildly different. You have no idea just how much. I have responsibilities you can’t even dream of. My father is dying, my mom is existing instead of living, and aside from them, the only person my daughter has is me. I’m her entire world, so you’re damn right this can’t get out.” My voice catches at the end.
I didn’t want him to feel bad. I wanted him to understand—wanted him to realize that he had all the time in the world to solve this, but I didn’t.
“Her dad isn’t around?” Beckett’s voice was soft, and emotion hinted in the depths of his gaze. “Just you?”
I swallowed. “Being a parent at seventeen wasn’t in his game plan. He’s never seen her, and he made it clear he never wants to. It’s just me and CiCi. Always has been.” Always will be, I didn’t say.
“I’m sorry. That must be hard.”
“Well, I’m not showing my tits to random guys on a regular basis for shits and giggles.”
He ran his fingers through his dark hair and perched on the corner of his desk. His eyes never left mine as he leaned back on one hand. “Let’s change it. Get you more bar shifts. Veronica’s leaving on maternity soon anyway, and she’s already told me she probably isn’t going to come back.”
“I don’t want them because you pity me, Beckett. I don’t care what I have to do to make sure CiCi has everything she needs. I’m her mom. It’s my job to make sure she’s taken care of, even if it means I hate myself every time I look in the mirror.”
Oh shit.
I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
I clapped my hand over my mouth and looked away from him. The tone of the room changed, getting tenser, and I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment.
“You hate yourself for doing this?” he asked softly. “Really?”
“No, not at all. I’m halfway to being a professional whore, and I’m
I froze, my mouth going dry. I couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Worse? I couldn’t believe that my pussy was throbbing at the thought of it.
“Point taken,” I squeaked out. I tried to swallow, but the dryness of my throat made it impossible, so I coughed instead. “How do we move forward?
I had to get this conversation back on track.
“As best we can,” he said, standing up straight. He didn’t take his eyes from mine. “We can avoid each other at work, but we’ll have to speak about everything outside of it.”
Beckett Cruz in my personal time? That sounded like a recipe for disaster.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” I asked. “Because I’m not afraid to tell you that I don’t. In fact, I can’t think of anything worse.”
“You can’t have it both ways. We can’t keep our relationship professional at work and ignore this mistake otherwise.”
A mistake it was, but ouch. Still kinda stung though.
“Really?” I asked. “Because that sounds like it’d be perfect.”
His eyes glittered with laughter. He raised his hand to his mouth and rubbed his thumb across his lower lip, drawing my eyes there. For some reason, the simple action was tantalizingly addictive, and I couldn’t take my eyes off his mouth.
Maybe it was because, despite the wedding hole in my memory, I knew exactly what it felt like to have his mouth on me, and that was something I knew I wouldn’t forget. Maybe ever.
“I mean it, Beckett,” I said, finally dragging my gaze back up to his. “I have no idea how it happened last night. I can’t remember, but I know that any interaction we have needs to be kept to a minimum.”
“Worried someone will find out?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly and pressed my hands against my stomach. “The girls have heard rumors that you’re married and one saw you wearing the ring.”
“I forgot to take it off. When I took you home, I came straight to work.”
“It doesn’t matter. Our lives are wildly different. You have no idea just how much. I have responsibilities you can’t even dream of. My father is dying, my mom is existing instead of living, and aside from them, the only person my daughter has is me. I’m her entire world, so you’re damn right this can’t get out.” My voice catches at the end.
I didn’t want him to feel bad. I wanted him to understand—wanted him to realize that he had all the time in the world to solve this, but I didn’t.
“Her dad isn’t around?” Beckett’s voice was soft, and emotion hinted in the depths of his gaze. “Just you?”
I swallowed. “Being a parent at seventeen wasn’t in his game plan. He’s never seen her, and he made it clear he never wants to. It’s just me and CiCi. Always has been.” Always will be, I didn’t say.
“I’m sorry. That must be hard.”
“Well, I’m not showing my tits to random guys on a regular basis for shits and giggles.”
He ran his fingers through his dark hair and perched on the corner of his desk. His eyes never left mine as he leaned back on one hand. “Let’s change it. Get you more bar shifts. Veronica’s leaving on maternity soon anyway, and she’s already told me she probably isn’t going to come back.”
“I don’t want them because you pity me, Beckett. I don’t care what I have to do to make sure CiCi has everything she needs. I’m her mom. It’s my job to make sure she’s taken care of, even if it means I hate myself every time I look in the mirror.”
Oh shit.
I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
I clapped my hand over my mouth and looked away from him. The tone of the room changed, getting tenser, and I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment.
“You hate yourself for doing this?” he asked softly. “Really?”
“No, not at all. I’m halfway to being a professional whore, and I’m
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