“I thought you were going to wear something to impress me.” He steps up to me and trails his fingers under the demure capelet on my dress. “Or is this supposed to be some sort of armor? You trying to hide yourself so your stalker doesn’t find you as enticing? Silly girl. That’s never going to work. The only place you’re safe is with me.”
“It’s funny. I almost think that you care.”
His hand drops to my waist.
“When are you finally going to beg for mercy?”
If my struggling PR career wasn’t on the line, I’d flip him off, call him names, then quit.
In two weeks, he’s turned me from a happy, bubbly person to an angry, bitter husk of a woman.
“I’m perfectly fine living in my car.”
“You meanmy car,” he growls as he advances, leaning over me as I glare up at cold gray eyes.
“I’m not saving you from him until you admit you’re wrong, admit you need my help.”
Two weeks ago, I might have smiled at him, tried to crack a joke.
Now?
He can go to hell.
I slap a binder against his chest, ignoring the hard muscle under the soft wool of his suit.
“Pick a girlfriend, buddy. Deadline is tonight.”
His lip curls.
“Fine. As long as none of them are anything like you.”
I cross my arms.
He leans against the desk. “Are you going to stand there and watch me?” He flips idly through the binder.
“Women need time to get ready. The girl you pick needs to be notified immediately. You’re not going to run out the clock on this, McCarthy. I know your games.”
“Do you?” He tosses the binder onto his chair then backs me against the credenza, hands resting on either side of my hips.
I lean back, my head turning away from him.
“How about if I tell you I’m not the one playing right now? You are. Coming in here dressed like that, thinking you are in control. Like you don’t want me to fuck you in this office, tell you you’re mine, that I love you and I want to marry you.”
“You’re horrible and cruel.”
He leans in, just a pocket of heat between us. “Maybe you just need a little more motivation to do what you’re told.” Lips barely brush my skin.
I push him away to escape from the oppressive size of him.
“I don't need motivation. We shouldn’t have done…that.”
“Wedidn’t do anything.Youspread your pussy for me. You were practically begging me to come in your ass.”
“That… No… I—” My face is hot. “Let’s go over your options.” I sit down in the chair in front of his desk.
Bad move.
He leans over me, hands on either armrest. Now I really can’t escape. He kisses my collarbone, my neck, my cheek, then his lips close over my mouth.
