"We very much are," he confirms against my skin. His hands tighten on my hips. "I'm never letting you go."
I smile against his cheek. "So we're in a committed relationship. But you're also my boss's boss's boss, and we can't have people at work knowing. Does that mean we'll be sneaking around indefinitely?"
It seems like an impossible riddle to answer.
"Not forever," Carter says. His voice is confident.
"Okay," I murmur, "but how will that work? I really like my job, and I happen to really like my boyfriend too. I don't want to give either of them up."
"Happy to hear it," he says, grinning crookedly.
I laugh. "You're enjoying this."
"Hearing you say over and over again that you like me? Yeah, I am."
"Carter," I complain.
His hands settle more firmly around my waist. "We'll figure it out, kid. I'll never do anything to jeopardize your job."
"I know that. But you just took over the newspaper. And you have grand plans for it, and I definitely don't want you to sell it."
"I might have gathered that, too, yes."
"So we're at an impasse."
Carter's arms flex beneath my hands and he lifts me up, depositing me on the kitchen counter. Leisurely, as befits the Sunday morning we're enjoying, he reaches for the hem of my T-shirt. I let him peel it off me-his own shirt, really-and toss it behind him. It lands halfway in the sink.
"I don't see an impasse," he says, eyes moving in heated circles across my face, hair, stomach, chest. "I only see perfection."
"Carter…"
He steps closer between my splayed thighs and I lock them at his hips. A problem we may have, but I'm not ready to give either of my two passions up. Nothing will stop me from having him-or my career.
"I won't be running the Globe forever," he says. "You know, Tristan stepped down from running Exciteur when he met Freddie."
"She worked at the company?"
"She was a trainee when they met."
I grimace. "Ouch."
"It was tough, but they're perfect for one another. She's got a great head for business too. Anyway, he stepped down when they got serious."
I trace the outline of his bare abs. "He stepped down? From the position of CEO?"
Carter nods. His hands are moving over my bare back, down to the lace edge of my panties and up again. The man is a damn fine multitasker, I'll give him that.
"Yes. It's an option here too," he says.
I shake my head. "You worked for years to buy the Globe . Didn't you tell me about all the preparation you did, to learn about the industry?"
"You're more important."
"You're not giving up your career," I say, "and neither am I."
His lip quirks. "I could step down nominally."
"Nominally," I repeat.
"Yes. Let's say we sneak around for a year. After that, I could hand over the reins to a board. Acture would still be the owner. But my face wouldn't be visible in day-to-day operations."
"Could work," I murmur, "but you know those investigative reporters…"
"They'll be investigating. I know," he agrees. "Ultimately, I'll do whatever you want, kid. But I will let you know right now that I can't wait for the day you'll be my date to all those boring events I'm forced to endure. I want you on my arm, always."
"If we go to the Reporters' Balls," I say, "then it's a deal."
He groans, but he's smiling. "I can't compete with the Dean Allens of this world, can I?
"Spend a year in a war zone or win a Pulitzer, and you might."
"I'll forever be in his illustrious shadow." His gaze drops to my breasts, where a large hand is teasing my nipple. "But he doesn't get to do this, and I do, so he can keep all his damn Pulitzers."
He tweaks it hard and my breath catches. The pleasure-pain radiates out through my body, and I grip his hips tighter with my thighs. "I'm all yours," I say.
"I contacted him, actually. About freelancing for the Globe ."
I grip his shoulders. "What?!"
Carter half-smiles. "Yes. Remember this, too, the next time you're angry at me."
"You're hiring?"
"I'm pouring more funds into Investigative, yes. The newsroom is what'll sell papers. That and the damn news app with the advertising algorithm."
"Oh my God." I hug Carter tight, and he laughs, the sound rumbling through his bare chest. "I like you, I like you, I like you so so so much…"
He laughs again and finds the backs of my knees. With a faint grunt, he lifts me boldly off the counter and strides in the direction of his bedroom. "My beautiful, front-page featuring, Dean Allen-fangirling, award-winning girlfriend," he says. "Your parents aren't the only ones curious about this new relationship."
He tosses me on his bed, still unmade from last night. I crawl backwards up toward the pillows. "They're not?"
"No." He climbs after me. "I'm meeting my mother for lunch next weekend. Come with me."
"To meet her?"
"No, to take notes. Yes, of course to meet her."
I laugh again, but it's quickly stopped by his heavy weight on top of me. He feels delicious, and so right, fitting between my thighs. The fabric of our underwear does nothing to hide the hard length of him.