Light flooded the room and I eased out of the bed, careful not to wake Joel, who looked deep in slumber. I found myself drawn to the same window I peered out of last night, watching the lights as though they were Lite-Brite pegs jutting out from the landscape. Under the morning sun, Vegas just looked like a city thrown on top of dirt and rock.

I felt so far removed from everything up there in the house on the hill; everything beyond seemed so insignificant. Does Joel watch Vegas from this same window? Is he lonely here? Is that the reason he really wants me to stay?

Warm arms wrapped around me, locking around my naked stomach. With skin pressed up against mine, I could feel his morning excitement trapped between our bodies.

The night before flashed through my mind under the touch of those hands that brought me overwhelming pleasure. “I hope you’re ready ‘cause I’m going to turn this pussy inside-out before I’m done. I’m talking permanent damage, Blaire. You’ll never be able to fuck another man and not think of me.”

“Good morning,” I said as he nuzzled my neck, kissing along my jaw and taking my earlobe between his lips.

“That it is. I think I’m liking the new view. You, here and naked in my home. Say you’ll stay, Blaire.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Mmm, stay,” he whispered, kissing down my neck and across my shoulder. He spun me around so I faced him. “Stay.” He kissed down to my breasts, closing his lips around my nipple and laving me with that expert tongue of his. The cold glass of the window bit into my back where it touched from shoulder blade to waist.

“Stay.”

I thought Joel would be completely spent from last night’s marathon, but as he spun his web for me, I realized he wasn’t anywhere close to being done with me. He spent the next half hour convincing me why I should stay, as if he hadn’t shown me all the reasons the previous night.

I showered and got cleaned up before making my way back downstairs to retrieve my phone. It was mid-morning, and as I descended the stairs, I began to recognize how odd it felt to be somewhere other than at work. In the six months since I had begun working there, I hadn’t taken one day off, not even a sick day. It was a bit surprising that I wasn’t more distraught by the fact that I was suspended yesterday. I guess sex does have its benefits—besides the obvious. Without Joel, I would have gone home, cried into a bottle of wine I would have finished all alone, all the while drunkenly trying to figure out how to dig myself out of the hole I was in.

At the bottom of the staircase, my purse sat atop the marble table in the foyer. As I passed, I heard the familiar beep of a missed call ringing from my purse. I expected to see a couple calls and texts from Kerri, but nowhere near this many. She’d been blowing up my phone since 7 p.m. the night before, with the most recent call being ten minutes earlier. I didn’t bother listening to the messages. Instead, I called her back.

“Blaire. Oh my god. Sarah texted me last night about what happened.”

“Does everyone else know?”

“They didn’t make an announcement or anything, but it won’t take long for people to notice you’re not coming in. I mean, you’re normally here before everyone. What did Henderson say to you? What happened?”

“Lara. That’s what happened. I didn’t tell you, but earlier this week she sent me a box. Well, it was more like a threat. I guess she followed through because she got me suspended. Although, I’m sure her intention was to get me fired.”

“That bitch. How did she find out?”

“We think she may have been following Joel.”

“We? Are you part of a ‘we’ now?”

“No. It’s not like that. Joel was worried about what else she might pull, so he asked me to stay with him last night. I’m just putting his mind at ease—”

“I bet that’s not the only thing you’ve been putting at ease. Look at you being a little harlot. Good for you. That’s a good way to keep busy.”

“He wants me to stay,” I whispered, not wanting to alert Joel to the conversation I was having downstairs.

“Ooh, waiting out the storm, round two.”

“I told him no.”

“What? Why?”

“Isn’t it bad enough they already know the truth? Do I really want to get caught with my pants down?”

“Are we talking literally or figuratively speaking?”

“Not funny, Kerri. I only got suspended, but I’m sure that’s temporary. They’re probably going to fire me when this is all said and done.”

“We all love you here. I’m sure they won’t fire you. They’re just waiting until the case is over…you know, covering their own asses, and then they’ll bring you back on. You’re getting paid, right?”

“For now.”

“Well, you know what I’d do.”

“Yes. Kerri. Everyone knows what you’d do,” I replied, every word overflowing with sarcasm. “Can you do me a favor? Can you swing by my house and make sure everything looks…you know, normal?”

“Sure, sweetie. I’ll stop by before lunch. Chin up and keep me apprised of all of the naughtiness happening.”

“All right, Kerri. Get back to work.”

We hung up and just in time because Joel was making his way down to the bottom floor just as I put my phone back in my purse. Joel spun me in his arms and kissed my cheek. He took my hand and led me to the kitchen where he pulled out a stool for me to sit at the kitchen island.

“Is Joel Trevaunt about to cook me breakfast?”

“Sure, why not? We’re both hungry. We need to eat.” He shrugged his shoulders while he turned to the fridge and pulled out an assortment of things.

“When was the last time you cooked a meal for someone other than yourself, not including the storm?”

“Is this a trick question? My lawyer told me not to answer those.”

“I’ll bet.”

“It’s been a while, but that’s not to say that I can’t. It’s just, I never really needed to.”

“Because women across the city are falling all over themselves to get the opportunity to cook for you—”

“And look, I just so happened to find the one coordinated woman who doesn’t know how to fall all over herself. Now, sit there and look pretty and dial back the witty banter about 10%. It’s early and I need to focus on not burning my house down.”

I got up from my seat and made my way around the large marble island, where Joel was bent over wrestling pans from the lower cabinet. Joel was wearing basketball shorts with a tee, which gave me the perfect view of his muscles pulled taut from the strain of his position. It was an effort to keep my hands from molesting him, but I succeeded, barely. I brushed his lower back, grabbing his attention, and he stood back up to his usual towering height.

“Let me,” I said, pulling the oversized pan from his hands. I looked at the pan, not quite sure what he planned on using it for. He gave me an unapologetic smile. “I promise it would have been edible. Am I supposed to sit over there and look pretty now?” he asked while walking in the direction of the chair I had just vacated. I set the pan down and grabbed the kitchen towel dangling from the stove and popped it against the ass I’d been admiring since the first time he bent over.

“Yes. Go sit down and try to learn something.”

“Yes Ma’am, but only if you promise to do that again.” He smiled and I growled.

I made a simple breakfast: eggs, bacon, and toast with jam. We sat at the kitchen island, our stools so close together, our arms brushed every time he lifted his fork from the plate. I think the proximity was intentional, a way to keep me constantly aware of him—as if I needed our bodies to continuously brush for me to remember him. How could I forget when I was sitting in his opulent home, with million-dollar views and eating on plates that probably cost as much as my car payment? How could I when I still felt the ache between my legs as I sat against the hard wood of the stool? That was Joel’s intention though, to mark me in every way so when I left that day I would remember every kiss, every touch, every stretch of my body to accommodate his.