Last night, when I was all alone and cold, I thought no one was looking for me. But I was wrong. I’m surrounded by people who love me, and I’m safe now.
With the man I love by my side and my parents’ love around me, I finally know I have everything.
46
ELI—SIX MONTHS LATER
“Are you planning on coming to bed tonight, Mr. Hart?” Sapphire swans into my home office wearing… well, nothing… except for a four-carat sapphire engagement ring… oh, and that damn belly ring she likes to tease me with.
She’s butt naked and beautiful, and my cock springs to life in an instant, knowing that she’s all mine.
My mouth goes dry, my heart pounding in my chest as she walks toward me, with the energy of a black cat, exaggerating the sway of hips to accentuate her delicious curves I can never get enough of.
Opposite me, she rests her hands on my desk and leans forward, squeezing her tits together, seductively batting her eyelashes, pulling out all the stops, as if trying to make me jump over the desk and take what I want. But I don’t.
I wait.
To see what she’ll do next.
Her playfulness fascinates me, and she knows it. She’s a powerhouse in business, winning awards, shifting perspectives, and proving how brilliant she is again and again. Yet what strikes me most is the spark she carries outside the boardroom. She laughs with genuine joy, the kind that lifts you without trying, and she turns even the smallest moments into something big, bright, and memorable. She never takes life too seriously, and somehow that makes me love her even more. And I love that she’s always testing me, pushing my boundaries in the best ways, encouraging me to loosen up, to match her energy, and to see the world the way she does, full of possibility, humor, and a touch of mischief, which she’s brimming with tonight.
Tempting me further, she runs her fingers through her freshly dyed hair: ice blonde at the roots fading to lavender at the ends this week.
“Are you almost done for the night?” she asks, tilting her head to the side and twirling a lock of hair around her finger while resting one hand on the desk.
“No.” But I’m about to be undone by her, I already know it; my hands are itching to touch her.
She fakes a pout. “But I’m lonely, Elijah.”
“Can’t you find something to entertain yourself with, baby?”
“Maybe.” She uncurls her finger from her hair and moves her gaze to my desk. Boldly, she flicks a pen off the desk, then another. “Oopsie.” She bites her bottom lip between her teeth.
Oh, I see what she’s doing.
Except it doesn’t bother me anymore because, with the help of rapid eye movement therapy, ERP cognitive behavioral therapy and eye movement therapy called EMDR specifically designed for just-right OCD, I no longer feel the need to align objects to feel in control.
Following Dad’s accident and then Sapphire’s, I signed up for intensive therapy sessions to reach where I am today. It’s been hard at times, but looking back, I no longer recognize the old me. I don’t want to be that guy again, and I’ve done everything I possibly can to be better for Sapphire. It’s what she deserves.
I play along with Sapphire’s game. “Are you going to pick them up?” I rest my back against the chair and point to the floor.
“Nope.” She shrugs dismissively and pushes a box of paper tissues then a block of sticky notes off my desk, in rainbow colors, of course, because that’s what Sapphire prefers.
In silence, I scowl at her, pretending to be annoyed, even though I honestly couldn’t care less.
She raises one perfectly plucked brow in a “what are you going to do about it?” kind of way.
When I don’t react, she retaliates to get a rise out of me. In a full-blown brat moment, she extends her arm in front of her and swings it across the top of my desk, knocking everything to the floor—pens, files, a photo frame, the disused acupressure headache clip I don’t need anymore, and a donut stress toy Sapphire bought me last month because she said it was perfect for me. For us.
Everything crashes to the ground. The sound of items clattering and banging when they hit the floor causes Ghost to run out of my office. It’s probably just as well because I can’t have sex when he’s around; he’s a cock blocker when he wants to be, and I swear I get stage fright every time he’s nearby.
“Sapphire.” I say her name like a warning.
“Elijah.” The way she says my name makes my dick thicken in my boxers, like she’s breathing life into my name.
Lifting one knee and then the other, she climbs onto my desk until she’s on all fours, her gaze fixed on mine as she crawls across the short width of the desk.
“Are you mad at me for messing up your desk, Mr. Hart?” she purrs, reaching out to grab my lavender tie that’s the exact shade she dyes her hair because I’m a fool for her and I haven’t yet had the opportunity to change since I returned from court today. It’s been a long day, and I still have paperwork to finalize for tomorrow’s court hearing, and that’s the only reason I’m working late. The day after court, we go on vacation to Singapore, before flying to Tokyo for three weeks, and I’m running out of time to finalize everything.