Kaden Graham Harrison.
His world is home to billionaires, future presidents, models and children of diplomats.
People who had the power to rule the world before they were even born. He can buy himself everything with the snap of his fingers.
Booze...
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My gaze gracefully traces the contours of his sculpted back, a visual symphony of strength and grace. It hovers tantalizingly over the table where his palms find solace, the stark contrast of his powerful hands against the smooth surface adding an erotic tension to the air. Delicate veins, like intricate rivers, embellish his muscular arms, accentuating the raw beauty that lies beneath.
From my point of view, I can only see a part of his side profile, and without a second thought, I slide my hands up over my aching skin towards my neck. I slightly rub my palm over the soft skin beneath my head, my throat going dry as I watch Kaden inspecting what must be the kids' files again. His glasses rest on his nose, his teeth marking a part of his pouty bottom lip.
I could watch this man thinking for hours, days even because for the first time, I don't harbor disdain for a man's intellect. Watching him think is like a weight lifting off my shoulders, and I'm captivated by the rhythm of his breath. It's a connection that speaks volumes without words, a quiet fascination that lingers in the air. I am thoroughly besotted with his brain.
"You are not an early riser," he suddenly states, and I look up at the part of his face that isn't hidden, but he still hasn't turned. I push myself away from the door and walk towards him.
"Depends on who you are comparing me with, don't you think."
"You know me, I would never compare you to another human being. But if we look at the definition... not really. The time that is set to define an early riser is 6 a.m. It is now..." He lifts one arm of the table, the other one slightly flexing on the table as his entire weight shifts onto it. He looks at his watch. "9.35, so far from that."
"Such a smart boy." I grin at him, and he looks over his shoulder narrowing his eyes on me, but I can see the slight blush crawling up his neck.
Embarrassment or pride because of my praise? Because I called him a smart boy?! Yeah, that's it.
"Well, Kaden. I have talked to your dearest best friend Harvey, and he told me that your IQ was tested to be at 184, and you still only know 6 languages, and I am fluent in 7 even though mine is much lower? How can that be?" I walk toward him, hug him from behind, and slide my arms over his chest.
I mean it in a teasing way, but his body stiffens slightly at my words, and how some would think it's because he feels threatened in his intelligence, I know that's not the case.
"Kaden," I whisper.
He doesn't say a word, only turns a page of the file.
"Kaden, your mind is truly exceptional. The way you effortlessly absorb information is a rare talent that many wish for. You possess an incredible opportunity to utilize this skill in ways that could set you on a path that will help you flawlessly lead your family's company one day. But instead, you fit your wording to the average teenager and hide those smart thoughts of yours. Do you doubt yourself that much? Talk to me, so I can help you, please..." I whisper the last part.
