His hands come back to me and move on me as if learning my contour, my lines, and my smooth valleys for the first time.

  I tremble beneath his touch, wet between my legs, warm between my thighs, tense and so, so eager to feel him close.

  His hands and mouth don’t stop. From kissing me and teasing me and refusing me his lips, he does everything to arouse me.

  He gives me pleasure, refusing me control. He makes me hungry and impatient as he builds anticipation.

  He makes me drunk on his caressing.

  Moving my hair over my left shoulder, he clears the back of my neck and the area between my shoulder blades, and kisses me again, breathing hot air on my back.

  He does it smoothly, with passion as if I’m a piece of art he brings to life with his very hands.

  And as he does it, he activates every little nerve ending buried in my skin.

  He does it growing my pleasure and postponing my relief.

  He does it until every fiber of my body is ready to fire up a tsunami of pleasure.

  He does it until every bit of my skin burns with desire, and my center is primed for him, heated, wet, and throbbing.

  I shift in my seat to face him, determined to feel his lips.

  He doesn’t stop his sinful assault on my senses. Not a bit.

  My eyelids go half down as my eyes get quickly unfocused and my chest begins to heave.

  My free hand moves as well, sliding up to the dip between his pecs, and the length of his neck, longing for the feel of his skin against my touch.

  He slides his fingers through my hair, tempting me to tilt my head and lean against his touch while he strokes my scalp and kneads my breasts and kisses the side of my neck.

  I don’t know how much I can last.

  “Tiago...” I murmur again, but my voice is met with silence as he keeps doing what he’s doing, turned on and hungry, just like me.

  “Tiago, please...” I gasp, fighting to get his mouth on mine when he curls his arms around me, lifts me and slides with me to the couch.

  Holding me against his body, he crashes with me onto the sofa.

  My body gets trapped under his frame only for a second before he pushes up to one arm and works his fly open with his free hand.

  Within seconds, he unbuttons my jeans and pulls them down, and then he grabs the back of his top and tears it off as well.

  Feeling him against me doesn’t seem to come fast enough. Only when I sense his weight on top of me and his hard chest against my breasts, and his throbbing shaft against my sex, he comes down on me and fully lets me taste his kiss.

  Not entirely though and not deep yet, only a tease before he covers me with more kisses, making me beg him to bring his mouth back to my lips.

  Desperate for his touch, I run my fingers down his back, slide them quickly inside his boxer shorts and push them low on his hips, along with his jeans.

  A second later, I grab the back of his hair, muttering his name with passion.

  “Tiago... Please.”

  He lifts his gaze at me, a smile twinkling in his eyes.

  Without a word, he crashes his mouth against mine, and I finally experience his kiss.

  We lock impetuously–– rushed, crazed, famished, my legs wrapping around his waist while he brings his hard cock to my entrance.

  With one smooth thrust, he fills me to the brim, making me scream inside his mouth.

  He pulls back.

  “No,” I say, panicked.

  He laughs and rides his erection back in.

  “Was that ‘slowly’ enough for you?” he says jokingly, a distraction by all means.

  As I start to laugh, he takes complete control over me.

  Wet and hot, my depths hug his hardness earnestly.

  “I missed this...” I murmur against his lips, my body slackening in his arms, my hips rolling with every thrust, my core clenching. “This will be over really fast.”

  “Works for me,” he says before he teases my lips again.

  “Tiago...” I call him again.

  A warning flashes through my gaze as my nails mark his back. He moves faster, pounding me with force.

  Edging, I arch my back and thrust my chest out, my lips parted waiting for his kiss.

  Again.

  It comes with the power that I need, and within seconds, I get swept by a wave of pleasure that breaks against his thrusts only to get amplified.

  I hung onto him as he picks up the pace and rams into me with even more force as nothing holds him back.

  Nothing stands between us.

  Nothing.

  18

  EVE

  “Did you catch a cold or something?” Lilian asks, concern lining her gaze.

  “No,” I rasp, sounding as if I caught a cold.

  In passing, I glance in the mirror hanging on the wall and get a glimpse of my reflection.

  Eww. I look terrible. No wonder that she’s concerned.

  A paler version of myself looks back at me with sleepy eyes and bloodless lips.

  I don’t think I slept more than a couple of hours last night. Above my hollow cheeks, a light flickers in my eyes.

  I left his place late or should I say early. He wanted to take me home right after he made love to me the first time. That never happened. At the door, we started making out again, and we ended back in his bed.

  After one more failed attempt, we gave up.

  I got home around four o’clock in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep. My head was spinning images from last night, and my body felt bereft after I left him.

  Lillian tosses me a puzzled look.

  “Did you get a bug or something?” she asks again.

  “Hopefully not,” I say smiling and a little shaky as I near my desk.

  My voice sounds broken.

  Absently, I pull my sweater closer to my neck, trying to conceal the marks he left on me.

  She gives me another look before she speaks.

  “I’m ordering breakfast for the morning meeting. Would you like something to eat?”

  “Uh... Yes. That would be great. I haven’t had anything to eat today,” I say, my eyes flying at the hallway as the doors begin to open and close.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, a faint pulse hammering through my veins.

  She tosses a glance in that direction as well.

  “I think they’re making the announcement.”

  I shoot her a worried gaze.

  “No. Already?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Cathy from Human Resources slipped to me this morning that two people are lined up for these two positions.

  “Two?” I ask as I catch sight of Samantha Jackson.

  Dressed in a soft wool dress, and a sharp looking jacket, she marches to the conference room.

  “She’s leaving as well,” she says.

  “Are you sure?” I ask quietly.

  “Yes. They’ve already recruited two new people to replace them. And several others would be considered for promotions as I’ve already suspected.”

  I slump back against my chair.

  “This is not good,” I mutter, drawing her eyes to me.

  My spooked expression kills her smile.

  “Let’s hope that there won’t be other changes.”

  I wish I could be as optimistic as she is, but I know how these things work. She said it herself. And I’ve heard it from other people as well–– friends of mine who went through the same experience.

  When new people are brought in to the top, they come with a new way of doing things. They want to prove themselves and show to everybody that they are decisive and bold, so they shake things up. And when they do that, people lose their jobs.

  Often, they bring their own people too. To establish their authority, they need fresh blood.

  “Don’t worry. You’re safe,” Lillian says as if she reads my mind.

  She slides a menu onto my desk before she pulls away from me.

  It’s hard not to be worried. I just got used to Samantha and Curt Clemens. I just got promoted too.

  There’s going to be a lot of pressure on me now. If nothing else my promotion makes me a top candidate for a run test.

  My stomach curls into a ball.

  Absently, I pull the menu closer and run my eyes on it.

  Lillian re-enters my office a few minutes later.

  “An egg sandwich with extra lettuce and tomato on whole wheat toast, and coffee. Black, no sugar.”

  She picks up the menu when a messenger shows up in the doorway holding a beautiful bouquet of roses.

  Lillian signs for them before she brings them to me and sets them on my desk.

  A smile tickles my lips. I lift them and bury my nose in their blossoms. Their petals are cold carrying the perfume of the winter waltzing outside, but their smell is sweet and their touch is soft, reminiscent of the warm weather and the summer.

  My phone vibrates with a message as I set the roses on my desk.

  Tiago: Você significa tanto para mim.

  My grin brightens.

  Tiago: ‘You mean so much to me’.

  My fingers spring to life as I begin to type.

  Me: You mean so much to me too, my love.

  Tiago: Did you get any sleep?

  Me: No. You?

  Tiago: Not really. I’m hitting the gym this morning.

  Me: Tell me that I didn’t mess with your workout routine.

  He sends me a smiling face emoji.

  Tiago: You didn’t. I want to spend more time with you.

  I grin silly.

  Me: Me too.

  Tiago: How about a proper date?

  Me: Mmmm... I like the sound of that. What do you have in mind?

  Tiago: Dinner. Sex. More sex.

  I start laughing.

  Tiago: Anything else you want, and then we end the night with, um... more sex.

  Me: I like your sense of humor. And your plan sounds just right. Last night was not much different than that. When can we meet?

  Tiago: Wednesday? Thursday? I’ll let you sleep tonight.

  Me: Thursday is good.

  I press ‘send’ before I type again.

  Me: If I can stay away from you until then.

  Tiago: Don’t worry. You’ll hear from me before that.

  Me: Love you, baby.

  Tiago: Love you, too.

  I set the phone down, unable to wipe my grin away from my lips.

  A few minutes later, Lilian enters my office, holding a brown paper bag.

  “Food is here,” she says as she pulls out my sandwich.

  “I ordered a fudge brownie with toasted walnuts too. I know you like them.”

  “Thank you,” I say, enlivened.

  The brownie reminds me of Rain and Colorado and a small bakery downtown that baked the best desserts in the area.

  “Your coffee,” she adds as she pulls it out of the bag too. “I’ll let you eat. I’m going to get the conference room ready.”

  “Thank you again,” I mutter before I take my first bite of food.

  Lillian spins around and paces out of my office while I take the second bite and a sip of coffee. My eyes stay on the flowers as I chew on my sandwich, my body welcoming the food. The fog lifts off my brain too as I drink more coffee.

  For a moment, hope courses through me as well, and I no longer think about the changes that lie ahead of me.

  I only think about him.

  He makes me forget about everything else.

  EVE

  I get home late.

  By the time I hit the shower, and let the warm water roll on my skin, the memory of the last twenty-four hours comes crushing on me.

  The night I spent with Tiago, and the significant changes coming up at work.

  As expected, the news was announced in the morning meeting. The short conversation I’ve had with Samantha Jackson afterward didn’t alleviate my concerns.

  Not a bit.

  She said that she and Curt forwarded their proposal regarding the promotions to the new people.

  That doesn’t mean anything.

  She also suggested that I might have a job at her new company, in case unforeseeable circumstances happen in my current position.

  All I need to do is wait and see how things would unfold.

  It’s eight o’clock in the evening when I finish slurping a bowl of soup and crash onto the sofa in the living room.

  My TV is on, the sound is off, and my phone is nearby.

  I attempt to read something, but I’m too tired for that.

  My phone rings around nine.

  “Oh, my God. I can’t believe it. Finally, I get to talk to you.”

  Rain face pops on the small screen, her eyes moving over my face as she takes me in curiously.

  “Are you sick or something?” she asks, her smile dropping as she takes in my face and flannel pajamas.

  I crack a smile.

  “It’s been a long day,” I say.

  “Where were you? I called you last night.”

  “Uh... “

  I look at my right, pretending that I’m searching for the remote, because I’m unable to hold her gaze. Not to say that I need a few seconds to come up with an explanation.

  “I, um… worked out. I was at the sports club.”

  “So late?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  I pick a couple of potato chips from a bowl and start munching on them.

  She studies me for a moment.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” I say, the snack crunching between my teeth. “There are some changes at work,” I add, eager to shift her focus away from what happened last night.

  “The bosses I worked for are gone. One of them was like a mentor to me.”

  “Is this the woman with regrets?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that... Well, maybe this is a sign that you need to consider James’ offer more seriously. ”

  “I am doing that. Trust me. I told him that I’d give him a response by the beginning of the month, and here I am. Things are happening faster than I thought. But I need to make sure that it’s the right thing to do.”

  Leaving New York right now is out of the question, but I can’t tell her that right now.

  My head spins every time I try to figure out what would be the best thing to do. I don’t think there is a perfect solution to my problem, to be honest.

  Had this happened before I reconnected with Tiago or found out about their family connection, going back home would’ve been the best thing to do. All things being equal, working for James would be my first choice.

  Generally speaking, working for him would be preferable to any other scenarios.

  I would’ve said yes the day he made me his offer, but it was too early, and it took me entirely by surprise. And there were so many other things I needed to figure out. And now that I have figured them out, other things have happened, and things got more complicated.

  Initially, I had a hard time to resign because Samantha had so much trust in me and my future.

  Her leaving took care of that, but now, I don’t want to leave New York.

  Truthfully, I can’t.

  “What holds you back?” she asks, jolting me out of my thoughts. “You said it yourself that you started thinking about finding your own place. About getting roots somewhere. There’s nothing to keep you there.”

  I look down to avoid her gaze.

  “Or is it?” she asks, confused.

  “No. There isn’t,” I say, feeling guilty about lying to her. “I think I’ll wait until next week, or perhaps a little more. I’m sure I’ll get a few more clues once my new bosses start working next Monday,” I add after a moment.

  “Well, you know better, but I would love to have you here with me.”

  Her lips curve into a sweet smile.

  “I know,” I say, grinning as well. “How are you?”

  “Not bad. Very little morning sickness. I still eat random stuff at the most unusual hours,” she says, laughing.

  “What changed really?”

  “My weight,” she says, giggling again.

  “You shouldn’t complain.”

  She flicks one hand up.

  “I’m not. I am very happy.”

  “How’s James?”

  “He’s, um...”

  Her gaze slides to the side, a soft smile brushing her eyes.

  I wait for her to shift her gaze back to me as I soak in all the emotions rolling on her face–– tenderness and love, nostalgia and warm feelings that I don’t even know how to describe.

  “He’s happy,” she mutters after a second and then she lifts her gaze to me. “I think he’s changed,” she says, her eyes staring blankly at me, her mind sifting through her thoughts as she looks for the best words to express them. “He’s very protective of me and looks at me with different eyes,” she says, emotions pouring into her voice.

  Happy tears glaze her eyes.

  “He’s started to get a different perspective on life and me, I guess, and what we mean for each other. I never thought that it would happen to us. Not only the baby, but us to get to this point,” she says, overwhelmed by the magnitude of her revelation.

  A couple of tears roll off her lashes. She brushes them off, embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, looking down. “I’m such an emotional mess these days.”

  “Don’t be. I was hoping that you were going to tell me that.”

  She looks at me again, her eyes washed with tears.

  “I so wish that these things would’ve happened to you too, Eve. I truly hope that they would happen for you one day.”

  “I’m sure they will,” I say mostly to reassure her than anything else. “Even if they don’t, it’s great that they happen to someone in this crazy world,” I say with a lighter voice, hoping to see her smile again.

  She moves her eyes away from me and looks down again.

  “I don’t know why things happened the way they did for the two of us. Sometimes, I feel guilty, you know.”

  She lifts her gaze.

  “Guilty for what?”

  She shrugs.

  “I don’t know. The fact that you perhaps wanted this kind of life the most and did all the right things to get it and the more you tried the further you got from what you wanted.”

  “There’s no reason to feel guilty. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Life has different plans for different people.”