She catalogued the sensations. His bare skin so hot against hers. The sheen of sweat between their bodies. The closeness, the unbelievable closeness, as she wrapped her legs around his hips, inviting him deeper into her. She grappled at his shoulders, digging her nails in. He rocked his hips against her, moving inside her, the delicious friction and the sounds he made sending her close to the brink.
He made love to her passionately, possessively, in a way that blotted out everything but him, her and them.
“Michelle. My Michelle,” he whispered reverently against her collarbone, brushing sweet and sinful kisses along the column of her neck.
The sound of his voice saying her name did her in. It set off the chain reaction of tears rolling down her cheeks, and ecstasy racing through her body. Tears and anguish all at once, in her body, in her mind. It was bittersweet, but she didn’t want the bitter. She’d had enough bitter.
As she came down from the high of her orgasm, he held her face in his hands and lightly brushed her lips with his own.
“Have I told you today how much I love you?”
Since that day in the gardens he hadn’t been able to stop saying it. Even through the mud and the muck and the dirt, he’d kept saying those words. Showing her how he felt. Being the man she wanted, and the man she needed.
After ten years of longing, after all that emptiness inside her, she couldn’t give this up. She could reinvent herself in Paris, or she could reinvent herself here.
“And that’s why I’m saying no to Denis,” she said as they pulled apart.
He gripped her shoulders. “What?”
“He made me an offer today. I told you he’d expressed some interest. He made it official, since I was cleared. He wants me to work in his practice in Paris.”
“You said no?”
She nodded. “I’m going to say no. It’s past midnight in Paris so I haven’t been able to respond to him today.”
“Why?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “Why are you saying no?”
She shot him a look like he was crazy. She’d never been more sure of anything other than this—she wanted to be with this man. “Why?”
“Yes, why?”
“Because I’m in love with you, and you’re here. Your business is here. You work in New York. I might have lost most of my clients, but I’m good at my job. I’ll start over. If he’d made the offer six months ago, I’d have gone in a heartbeat. But everything has changed since I met you. I spent so much of my last decade chasing love with the wrong person. Now I have it with the right person. There are some things worth giving up for love,” she said.
“You’d do that for me? Give up a job like that?”
She nodded.
“But that’s an impossible choice,” he said, hearkening back to their earlier conversation.
She shook her head. “It’s not at all. It’s what I’d do for love.”
He swallowed, and seemed to be processing what she’d just said. “God, I fucking love you, Michelle Milo. More than anything. And I need to go now,” he said, quickly dressing again.
She kissed him goodbye at the door.
“I’ll see you in a couple hours,” she said.
“Yes,” he said, then she swore he added but probably sooner under his breath as he walked down the hall to the elevator. She waved goodbye and watched him go, feeling content with her choices. All of them—even the seemingly impossible ones.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Incandescent
Jack wasn’t worried about Nick’s threats to tarnish his reputation. The man had been unsuccessful in his quest to bully Michelle anymore, so Jack didn’t have any real fear about being labeled as a pedophile or child pornographer. He also had that handy cell phone conversation filed away safely.
Denkler hadn’t pulled out of the race. In fact, Henry’s brother-in-law was well ahead in the polls thanks to the rash of money the Upper East Side had raised for breast cancer research. Jack had a hunch that all the orgasms the residents were now having thanks to the Joy Delivered products in their nightstand drawers had made them happier, and they’d be voting from their “pleasure centers” rather than their fear ones. Maybe from their hearts too. Or so he hoped.
But none of that was front and center as he and Casey sat at the head table of the charity gala at the Waldorf-Astoria. He had one thing on his mind. A choice that was not at all impossible.
“You’re okay with what I’m about to do and say?” Jack asked his sister quietly.
“You big idiot. I couldn’t be happier for you. I’m all set to capture it for posterity,” she said, pointing to her phone.
The woman who ran the charity they were supporting took the stage and introduced herself. After speaking for a few minutes, she gestured to the front of the room. The lights were all on Jack and Casey.
“We are so very grateful for our biggest supporters, Jack and Casey Sullivan at Joy Delivered, who deliver so much joy to so many women,” she said, stopping to hold up a hand. “Can we just have a show of hands? Who here has used a Joy Delivered vibrator?”
Nearly everyone in the room chuckled and nearly all hands rose.
“Are they the best vibrators in the world or what?”
“The best,” someone shouted from the crowd.
“They are,” the woman on stage said. “And we are simply overwhelmed and overjoyed with the money this company has raised for breast cancer research, not only tonight but with its tremendous generosity at Eden. I’d like to invite the CEO of Joy Delivered on stage to say a few words.”