Page 11 of In His Office

The intensity in his eyes didn’t waver. “I have no doubt about that,” he replied, a hint of something unspoken lingering in his words.

As I gathered my things and prepared to leave, it was an effort to tear my gaze away from his.

“Thank you for your time,” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“The pleasure was all mine,” he responded, standing up as I did. His movements were fluid, predatory, as if every step was calculated to keep me within his sphere. He grabbed my hand and shook it firmly.

The moment he touched me, I almost forgot how to breath.

The fire that blazed up and down my arm from little more than his handshake was nothing short of breathtaking, and when he finally let go, the burning tingle lingered seemingly forever, a reminder of the intensity still crackling between us.

What had just happened? Did I still have a client after this?

I replayed the meeting in my mind, trying to pinpoint the exact moment it had shifted. Hunter’s challenging remarks, his intense gaze, the way our ideas clashed and danced together—it was something I’d never experienced with a client before. I couldn’t ignore the way that he was looking at me right now either, like a predator that had just found his prey… It had stirred up something I couldn’t quite name.

Maybe something I didn’t want to name…

Taking a deep breath, I pulled my hand away. In an instant, I missed his touch. I wanted to reach back out and feel it, but I didn’t dare.

“Mr. Blackwater,” I concluded.

“Miss Davis,” he echoed.

Without another word, I turned on my heel, grabbed my laptop bag, and stormed out.

As soon as the door closed behind me, I swore under my breath.

Fuck.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to get a rich new client, one that would save my PR firm from an early death, and now I didn’t even know if I still had a working relationship.

Also, why the fuck was I aroused right now? I shouldn’t have let him get to me. I shouldn’t have imagined those big hands running all over my body, shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, yet I couldn’t make it stop.

Images of my back against the wall, of his bare ass flexing as he thrust into me, over and over until I screamed his name.

Jesus Christ. What was wrong with me?

I was impossible.

This was all Zara’s fault. She’d put Mr. Fifty Shades in my head, and now it was stuck so firmly in there that it might as well be permanent.

Maybe I needed to go home, rub one out, and start to tackle this PR nightmare in the hopes that I hadn’t fucked up the whole interview and lost myself the client of a lifetime.

I hadn’t, had I?

I needed to go back, right?

But…

I couldn’t shake the feeling of hesitation that spiraled through me at the thought of facing him again. I licked my lips, unable to stop myself from squealing a bit with rage and something else I didn’t care to admit to.

Desire.

My pussy throbbed hard at the thought of being in the same room with him again. I didn’t know if I was ready yet.

The two of us were on a collision course, and sooner or later, we were going to crash.

Maybe it would be better to just cool down and tackle this tomorrow with a clear head. I needed a glass of wine, a good book, and my vibrator before I dealt with Mr. Blackwater again.

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