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I bark a curt laugh, and when she looks up at me with those ocean eyes brimming with pity, my clenched mouth loosens.
“I have one thousand four hundred and thirty-three people on my payroll that I can’t let down. So no, I didn’t go home.”
Her eyes soften, dropping down my front to where her legs are spread around me.
I hate her so much. I hate that she can so easily unravel me. I hate that she has the audacity to pity me. And most of all I hate that even hating Ava, all I can think about right now is fucking her. All I want is to bury myself in her and punish her body for all the ways she’s got me all fucked up.
“What do you want from me, Damon?” she asks, her finger raking down my front to the top of my belt.
Her chest is heaving. Her voice is raspy. Her cheeks are warmed crimson.
“You,” I state.
“You can’t have me.” Ava’s wrong. I can have her, and the way her body opens up a little more for me, coming closer so that her cunt hovers over my hard-on…it’s all the proof I need.
Lowering myself into Grayson’s vacated chair, I bring myself flush to her, my chest bracketed by her thighs as I breathe into her chest, “I already have.”
Ava tries to push away, but in her efforts, she lands in my lap, and when she tries to stand, I hold her down.
“You can’t have me!”
“But I can smell how much you want it.”
“I meant professionally.” She pushes the heels of her hands into my chest and launches herself off me. Ava stumbles a little in her high heels, but when she finds her balance, she perches on the edge of the desk. “What do you want, Damon?”
I can tell she’ll give whatever I ask for, so long as I don’t make her accept the fact that she wants me more than she can bear. It’s an affliction we share.
“Callum Warner.”
She levels me with a heated glare and her cute little nose flaring. She’s angry. I like angry Ava.
“No, I’m not—”
“You are because there’s no one else that can land him as easily as you.”
“If that’s what you wanted to begin with, you got the wrong woman,” she snarks. When she tries to stand, I rise and block her. “You must really think very little of me.”
“On the contrary, if I did, I wouldn’t want you here, and I certainly wouldn’t have fucked you.”
“Stop!” Her hand pushes to the base of my neck. “I won’t play your game anymore.”
“Yeah, you will.” I lean over her even as her hand tightens around my throat. “Because you want to. You want to take as much from Marsh as he took from you. It’s why you’re here. To prove you’re better.”
“I know I’m better, just as I know you’re trying to play me again.”
“I’m giving you the opportunity to break him.”
Ava swallows. She can pretend she’s holier than me, but we’re exactly the same. She only needs to accept it and embrace it.
“Take what you want, Ava,” I whisper into her ear.
“You don’t know what I want.”
“Yes, I do.” I nudge her legs open wider, lodging myself flush to her. “I know exactly what you want.” Closing my hand around her slender throat, I press my thumb to the bottom of her jaw.
I want it too.
With her head tipped back, her hair cascading around her shoulders, it’s impossible not to undress her with my eyes. It’s impossible for me to contain any of my need to take what I want right now.
