"I don't think I can wait for slow." I rub my hand over the front of his pants. "I don't think you can either."
He groans as I continue to touch him. "You're right. I can't."
He lifts me up and I curl my arms and legs around him, laughing as he races us down the hall to our room. We peel off our clothes and get into bed. Gavin is over me, holding my wrists above my head, pinning me to the mattress as he kisses my neck, then down my chest. When he reaches my breast, I arch back, moaning in pleasure. It feels like forever since he's touched me like this, kissed me, been inside me.
I feel his erection against my inner thigh and try to get it closer to where I want it.
"Kate," he scolds in a deep voice.
"C'mon. Stop teasing me."
His muscular legs stay firmly in place, preventing me from moving. "You can have it when I say so."
I huff. "You're mean."
He chuckles. "I'm not mean. I'm making sure it's good for you."
"It's always good."
"Then I'm making sure it's great." He kisses me. "Unbelievable. Amazing." He continues to tease me, getting closer and closer to my opening.
"Stop teasing," I whisper, smiling.
"Why would I stop?" he breathes into my ear, "when I know how much you love it?"
My eyes are closed, my hands still held captive above my head. I try to lift my hips but I can't. His body has me pinned to the bed. I have no control. Gavin's the one in charge and I like it. After weeks of directing people and planning and making decisions, it feels good to just let everything go and let someone else take over, especially when that someone is Gavin.
He finally moves into place and I let out a sigh of relief as he slides inside me.
"God, you feel good," he says as he sinks deeper. His warm body presses against mine and I run my hands along his backside, feeling his tight ass. I love his body. Before Gavin, I dated guys with big muscles, and guys who were lean but not really muscular. Gavin's in-between. The perfect mix of muscular and lean.
He moves in a slow and steady rhythm and I can tell he's working hard to hold back.
"You better hurry up," I tell him. "I want to do this a few more times."
"Yeah, okay," he says with a laugh.
"I'm serious." I wait for him to look at me. "It's early, and we haven't done it for over a week. I was hoping to do this at least two more times tonight."
"We haven't done it that much in months."
"Since before we moved into together," I remind him, because I think we both forgot what we used to be like. But going to that restaurant tonight reminded me, and now I want it to be like that again. I want the passion back in our relationship. I want to want Gavin so bad that I'm willing to miss sleep over it, no matter how tired I am.
"God, I love you," he says as he thrusts in and out of me, faster this time.
I smile and close my eyes, preparing for the release. I can feel it building. It's been building this whole time, my body desperate to let go. When it finally comes, it's more powerful than I remember, probably because Gavin teased me for so long.
He comes shortly after, and then I lie in his arms, stroking his chest as he runs his hand up and down my back.
"I miss this," I say.
"I do too." He kisses my head.
"Something has to change. We can't keep doing this. Not seeing each other. Not talking. It isn't right, Gavin. That's not us."
"I know. I just don't know how to change it right now. I'm busy with work and you're busy at the restaurant. I think we just need to give it time. Things will calm down eventually."
"But what if they don't? What if they give you more responsibility at your job and you end up working even more? And what if the restaurant takes off and I have to spend all my time there?"
"If that happens, then we'll talk about it and find a solution."
"Or we'll get so into our work that we won't take time to talk and we'll grow apart."
"That's not gonna happen. We're talking about it now, right? So that's good. Other couples would do as you said and not take time to talk about it. But we both recognized there's a problem and now we're talking about it."
"Talking about it isn't fixing it."
"There's nothing to fix. We just need to get through the next few weeks and then things will get better. I have to adjust to working two different jobs and you have to adjust to running a business. As long as we continue to support each other and check in with each other, we'll make it through this." He tugs me closer. "Let's not worry about it. Let's take a quick nap and do it again."
I lift my head up and kiss him. "Could we skip the nap?"
He smiles. "I love you. And yes, we can skip the nap."
***
The next morning, I wake up at six and smile when I realize Gavin is still here. I can hear him in the kitchen. I get up and slip on one of his t-shirts and follow my nose to the smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls.
"Are you baking?" I ask as I come up behind him and hug him. He's dressed for work in his shirt and tie.
He turns around and kisses me. "I'm not sure if it's considered baking. The cinnamon rolls are from a can. I went out and got them this morning, along with some milk. We were out. We need to get groceries tonight."
"I know. I've been eating at the restaurant and you haven't been home so I haven't bothered going to the store."
The oven buzzes and he takes the rolls out.
"I'll do the frosting," I say, taking a spatula from the drawer. "It's nice having you here in the morning. I've missed having breakfast with you."
"Unfortunately I can't do it every day." He gets a mug from the cabinet and pours me some coffee. "With the commute, I'd never get to work on time if I slept this late every day."
"Are you going to get in trouble for being late today?"
"Probably not. My boss is still out of the office." He sits down next to me. "So what's new in your life?"
I laugh as I hand him a cinnamon roll. "Well, the restaurant is opening soon, but you already know that." I pause to think. "Oh. These men stopped by yesterday. They were older men in suits so I assumed they were investors but they weren't."
"Who were they?"
"I'm not sure. They said they were acquaintances of Mr. Walcott, but they never explained what that meant."
"Did they say why they stopped by?"
"They said they wanted to see how the restaurant was coming along. But if they're not investors, I don't know why they'd care. It was weird."
"Why'd you let them inside?"
"I didn't. They just let themselves in. One of the workers must've left the door open."
Gavin's phone alarm dings. "Shit, it's getting late. I gotta go. I have a meeting this morning." He gives me a kiss. "Have a good day."
"I will." I watch him walk to the door. "I'm afraid to ask what time you'll be home."
"I'll call you later and let you know," he says as he leaves.
That's not the answer I wanted. I was hoping he'd say he'd be home at six, which is when he used to get home. Saying he'll call means he'll be home late again.
After the talk we had, I thought Gavin would try to stop working so much but it sounds like that's not going to happen. I guess I'll work late too then.
Last night I was feeling hopeful, but now I feel like we're going back to where we were before, working so much we never seeing each other.
My phone rings. It's Mr. Walcott, probably calling to see if the restaurant will be opening on time. He hasn't checked in with me for over a week, which is surprising, given how much money he's invested in the place.
"Hello, Mr. Walcott. We haven't talked for a while. How are you?"
"Hello, Kate. I'm sorry I haven't called. I was out of the country on business. I got back late last night. So how is the restaurant coming along?"
"Great! Everything's on schedule. We might even finish early, thanks to Gavin's grandfather. He's been helping out the past couple weeks."
"It's good
to have family around when you need them."
Henry's technically not my family but I don't want to correct Walcott so I say, "Yeah. Henry's been great."
"So, Kate, I was calling because I wanted to let you know I enrolled you in a class at Moorhurst. The one you requested. The entrepreneur course."
"You did? But I thought it was too late to register."
"Not if you have the right connections, which I do, given my involvement there. And of course my generous donations make it rather easy for them to bend the rules when needed. Anyway, classes start the first week of September. You'll be getting an email from the college with more details."
I'm surprised he did this. He must really want me to take that class. Maybe he doesn't trust that I can run the restaurant without taking at least a few business classes.
"Thanks for your help," I tell him.
"I was happy to. And as promised, I'll pay for the class and any related expenses."
"That's very generous of you."
"It's all part of my investment in you, Kate. I truly believe you'll be a success."
"Speaking of investments, did you send some of your investors over to the check out restaurant yesterday?"
"Are you referring to the men who stopped by?"
"Yes. I didn't know who they were."
"They're not investors. Well, not directly. They're acquaintances of mine. In fact, you might know some of them. They've been to many of the parties that Carol has catered. Having worked for her, I'm sure you encountered those men at least a few times. Perhaps you just don't remember them."
Now that he said that, I think I do remember them. They did look familiar, but I thought that was because I'd seen them in Walcott's office.
"I don't remember meeting them before," I say, "but if they were at parties catered by Carol, then yes, I've probably seen them before."
"They didn't give you any trouble, did they?"
Trouble? What does he mean by that? What trouble would they give me?
"No. No trouble."
"Very good. Well, I should be going. I have a meeting to get to."
"Thanks again for enrolling me in that class."
"It was my pleasure. I'll check in with you again before the opening."
"Okay. Goodbye, Mr. Walcott."
I set my phone down, pick up my coffee, and take a sip.
Mr. Walcott makes me nervous, and not just because he's rich. He makes me nervous because I always feel like he's up to something but I don't know what. Like just now, he signed me up for that class without even telling me. What if I'd changed my mind? What if I decided I didn't have time?
Now I don't have a choice. I have to take that class. Mr. Walcott is expecting me to. He's practically making me do it. He was only supposed to be involved with the restaurant, but now I feel like he's encroaching on my personal life. I don't like that. I wanted to get some distance from Walcott but instead I feel like he's trying to get more involved in my life. A place he doesn't belong.
Chapter Seventeen
Gavin
"What's going on?" I ask Sandra, Peter's assistant, as I walk into my cubicle. She was leaned over writing something but stood up when she heard my voice.
"I was writing you a note. Peter wants to talk to you."
"I thought he was out of town."
"He is. It's a phone meeting. He'll call in a few minutes. He wants you to go in the conference room."
"Why can't I do it here?"
She shrugs. "Don't know. He didn't say." She walks off.
Great. I'm probably in trouble for being late. I'm only an hour late, which is nothing. Besides, after all the overtime I've put in, I deserve to come in late now and then.
I go to the conference room and wait. Ten minutes later the phone rings.
I pick it up. "Mr. Farrell?"
"Gavin, it's Jett," he says in his usual upbeat tone. He should've gone into sales. He's always on, always full of energy, always got that huge grin on his face. Those traits works for politics too but a lot of politicians are dry and serious. Jett brings an energy wherever he goes. It's why people listen to him and why he's so persuasive. You talk to him for less than five minutes and find yourself agreeing to whatever he asked you to do, which explains how I ended up working for him.
"Where's Mr. Farrell?" I ask.
"He'll get on soon. He had another call to take care of. So how's Gavin doing today?"
"I'm fine. Busy."
"It's good to be busy. Successful people are busy."
There he goes again, trying to convince me to accept his definition of success. He does this all the time, not just to me, but the entire staff. He tells us what we should believe and what we should think is important, but he does so in a way that you don't really know he's doing it.
"You're going places, Bishop," he says. "Stick with me and you'll rise to the top."
Good thing this isn't a videoconference because I just rolled my eyes. I used to admire Jett and found his words to be inspiring, but that was before I was forced to listen to him constantly complimenting himself. He does it at every staff meeting, and then he reminds us how lucky we are to work for him. I'll admit he's smart and is an expert at persuasion, but as a person, I don't like him. He's fake and full of himself, even more so than the rich, pompous people I grew up around.
"Good morning, Gavin." It's Peter joining the call. "Sorry I was late. I was in a meeting. So how's everything at the office today?"
"I have the revised proposal ready for you to review."
"Excellent. I'll read it when I get back. Or better yet, email it to me. I'll review it on the plane. So anyway, we wanted to talk to you about the campaign."
"What about it?"
"Jett needs more people on staff, and given what a great job you've done so far, he's asked if he could have you full-time."
"And Peter was generous enough to agree to it," Jett says. "You'll be starting on Monday. I want you to go with me to a speech I'm giving next week in Philadelphia. It's at a convention for—"
"Wait," I say, stopping him. "I need to think about this. I don't know if I want the job."
Jett laughs. "Of course you want the job. Any kid your age interested in politics would kill for this job. And I'm not even making you apply. You've proved your worth, kid, and because of that, I'm willing to take you under my wing."
I roll my eyes again. He's such an egomaniac.
"It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," Peter says. "You'll be working alongside a man who might be president someday."
"I understand that," I say, "and I'm honored that you've offered this to me, but I'd prefer to stay where I'm at. I'm learning a lot about proposal writing and that's really what I want to do going forward."
"Then you'll have to find a job elsewhere," Peter says. "I've already found your replacement. In fact, she started today. I've had Sandra transfer all your projects to her so as of now, you're working full-time for Peter."
"Welcome to the team, Gavin," Jett says. "We'll get together for a drink next week and discuss your future."
I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw, trying to hold in the anger I'm feeling right now. I just got fired from my job and told I have to work for Jett. And they expect me to be excited about it? If I tell them no, there's a chance they'll ruin my career. They're both well-connected in the field I want to work in, which means they could keep me from getting a job elsewhere. I can't risk that happening.
"So what do you think?" Jett asks. "Ready to get started?"
"Um, yeah, sure." I don't sound excited and I can't even fake it. Working full-time for Jett is the last thing I wanted. I was already spending too much time at that job. Now my whole life will be consumed by it. And I have to travel!
I'm going to have to tell Kate. I can't keep waiting. I'm going to have to tell her tonight.
"Clean out your desk and head over to your new office," Peter says. "Congratulations, Gavin! Your father would be proud."
My father wou
ld be proud, but only if he knew this is what I wanted to do. My dad never pushed me to go into politics. He let me choose what I wanted to do and he knew working in politics wasn't what I wanted long-term.
"I have to get going," Peter says. "Just so you know, Gavin, this isn't the end for us. I'd still welcome your input on future proposals if you're interested in a little moonlighting, but I doubt you'll have time. Jett keeps his staff very busy."
"Yeah, about that," I say. "I can't work beyond my regular hours. Kate needs help at the restaurant, especially once it's up and running. I promised her I'd be there on nights and weekends."
"She can hire some help," Peter says. "You're not a busboy, Gavin. You didn't go to college to clean up dirty dishes. You've got a future in politics and you're being trained by the best."
"I understand that but—"
"We'll discuss it later," Jett says. "For now, go check out your new office. I've left a list of items for you to get started on. Have a productive day!"
"Goodbye, Gavin," Peter says.
"Bye," I mutter as I hear the call disconnect. I drop my head and rub my temples. "Shit. What the hell am I gonna tell Kate? How do I explain this?"
A text pops up from her. I love you. Hope you're having a great day!
Yeah, it's great. Perfect. Actually, it was perfect this morning before I got to work. Being home and having breakfast with Kate is how I'd like to start every day, but this job will never let me do it.
Love you too, I text her back.
After packing up the few items I have in my cubicle, I head downtown to the campaign office. It's in a sleek, modern building with big windows that have great views of the city. I should love working here but it doesn't feel right, because it's not where I want to be. I didn't choose it, so being here feels more like a prison sentence than a great opportunity.
"What are you doing here?" I hear someone say. I look behind me and see Jess standing there, holding her laptop. "I thought you worked at your other job today."
"I did too," I mutter as I continue walking. I'm not in the mood to deal with Jess today.
"What's wrong?" she asks, following me. "You look like shit."
"I just got fired."
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