Say Yes

Back inside and slightly warmer—though whether that was due to leaving the chilly night air behind or Walker’s scalding kiss, I wasn’t going to speculate, confirm, nor deny—the crowd was beginning to thin. It was getting late; those who had come as families were getting ready to head out with their sleepy children, and those who’d arrived early had had a chance to peruse and enjoy all the pieces.

Walker, oddly, kept glancing at his watch.

I nudged him. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Nothing, it turned out, wasn’t nothing at all. It was a spectacularly fashionable late arrival in the form of Grant Calhoun. Less than ten minutes later, the front doors of the gallery opened, and Grant strode in, followed by young socialites of all genders and persuasions. Our friend made a beeline over to Walker, taking his hand in an enthusiastic shake.

“You’re late.” Walker arched an eyebrow.

“Not late at all! I’m on time whenever I arrive.”

All around, the entourage that Grant had brought with him began to mill about, oohing over the art around the gallery, snapping pictures, and talking animatedly about the pieces. I blinked, looking between the two men.

Grant grinned. “Surprised to see me? It’s a recent development, but I’ve decided I want to get into the art industry—”

“Actually,” Walker interjected. “I told him about the gallery showing and he suggested bringing some of the young art elites from the west coast to the east with him to show off the art and get most exposure coast to coast.”

“And we brought money,” Grant added with a devilish smile.

Walker nodded. “Lots of money.”

It was more than I could’ve ever expected out of the night. It had already been so much more successful than I’d thought it would be, but between the elites of New York and the influencer status of a man like Grant—who lived and breathed Hollywood, knew big name actors and directors, and set trends without even trying—this show had single-handedly put our little studio on the map.

I looked to Walker, about to speak, but his look said everything.

I didn’t need to thank him. Not for this. Not for anything.

The rest of the evening was a blur. Grant and his entourage were great, and I took time to talk to all of them about my pieces, gathering several more business cards in the process—but my gaze kept darting across the room to Walker, and every time it did, I found him watching me too.

By the time everything wound down and we finally left the studio, my whole body felt like it was vibrating, my thoughts focused on only one thing.

Walker.

He held my hand as I slid into the town car then climbed in after me. We sat in silence for several minutes, but in that silence, so many unspoken words hovered. I turned to look at him in the ambient glow of the streetlights outside, and before I could register that either of us had moved, our lips met. We met

somewhere in the middle of the seat, straining against our seatbelts as we kissed like two teenagers on prom night.

Heat sparked in my body, and fortunately, we arrived back at the house before I broke down and crawled onto his lap right there in the back seat.

He took my hand again, and the two of us practically ran up the steps to his house. He fumbled with the key, and I wrapped my arms around him, loving that he was as desperate and frenzied as I was.

Finally, the lock clicked, and the door swung open. He pulled me inside, and as soon as the heavy wood slammed shut behind us, my back was to it and Walker was on me. He muttered soft words against my skin as he kissed my neck and shoulders, sliding the straps of my dress off to give him better access. He was hard as steel, and his cock pressed into my belly as his lips devoured me.

He unzipped my dress, letting it pool at my feet, before shrugging off his suit jacket and shirt. When he pulled me into a kiss again, our skin met, and the feel was so glorious I moaned into his mouth. I needed more of that. So much more. I needed his skin against mine, all over—nothing between us.

Reaching behind me, I unsnapped my bra, tossing it haphazardly aside. Then I worked Walker’s pants off, gripping his thick length in my hand. He bit my earlobe, making sparks explode through my body, filtering straight down to my clit.

“Walker, I… I need…”

I was panting, desperate to feel him.

“I know what you need, baby. I got you. Goddamn, Macks. I—”

He broke off suddenly, and I didn’t let my mind even begin to question what he’d been about to say. I just held him closer, letting everything about this amazing night fuel our kiss.

Lifting me in his arms, he pressed my back against the door, rocking into me, teasing my clit with his cock.