She worries her lower lip with her teeth, making the pink flesh glisten. She doesn’t even know what that’s doing to me, which makes it even hotter. My cock’s most definitely perked up, and I shift to hide my reaction.
“Well, uh…” Awkward embarrassment fleets through her eyes as she looks at me. “I guess I should find a…a hotel or something.”
She doesn’t have anywhere to go.“Why don’t you stay with me?” I say as I maneuver the car into traffic.
Her eyes nearly bug out. “Withyou?”
She doesn’t have to make it sound like I’m a cannibal or something. “Yeah, with me. Not sure if you noticed, but that video from yesterday evening went viral.”
“Yeah, I heard. My best friend freaked out.”
I wait a beat, but she doesn’t continue. Huh. She has no intention of revealing what her best friend said or what she herself thinks about it. I’m dying to know what’s going on in her head—everything rolling around in her mind when she thinksabout the video and what happened. But most importantly, I want to hear her thoughts about me.
She always smiles at me with such sweetness, does little things that make my day brighter and my mood lighter—but then pulls away and draws a line of professional distance that says, “Thou shalt not cross.” She doesn’t seem to do that with anyone else in the office. But then, she doesn’t gift them with the same brilliant, warm smile she has for me. Or do anything special for them.What gives?
When I don’t say anything in response, she clears her throat. Her fingers nervously intertwine. “Sorry I got you tangled up in my mess. I’m sure having everyone know you’re ‘engaged’ to me isn’t something you wanted. I’m sorry—”
“Stop sayingsorry.” Sorry isn’t what I want her to feel. Hot, happy, thrilled, aroused, excited, relieved—but not sorry. “It isn’t your mess, and you didn’t get me to do anything.”
“But if you hadn’t tried to help me—”
“No one put a gun to my head. I did it because I wanted to.”
“But you felt sorry for me, didn’t you?”
I stop the car at the red light, then glare at her. “Who put that nonsense into your head? Say I felt sorry for you again, and I’ll show you how Ireallyfeel by kissing you until you shut up.”
Her eyes widen, her mouth parting. Rose colors her cheeks, but I can’t tell if it’s from shock or horror. Her violet gaze is like a deep pool, impossible to read. She even stops fidgeting with her fingers. Her little tongue darts out to lick her lips, and I feel the motion like she’s strokingmydamn tongue.Fuck me.
“Uh…” She clears her throat. “You didn’t have to… I mean… You’re my boss.”
The reminder is like a bucket of cold water, but it doesn’t do much to settle me down. I run a hand over my face and let out a rough breath.
“That wasn’t appropriate,” I say, before Klein feels scandalized enough to contact HR. “But look. I don’t claim to be engaged to everyone I feel sorry for. I did it because—” Suddenly the words get stuck in my throat.
I sense her turning toward me. “Because…?”
My head says I shouldn’t, but my gut says fuck it.Listen to your heart, rather than your oversized head,an inner voice that sounds awfully like Dad advises.
I turn to look at her squarely. She’s staring at me, her eyes wide and guileless. Her breasts rise and fall gently, and the leather interior of the Rolls feels too full of her female sweetness.
She raises her eyebrows, urging me to finish. The car behind us honks as the light turns green.
“Because…” I swallow.The hell with it. “Because I like you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ailee
My brain freezes. Four very simple words, but they don’t compute.
I open my mouth, feeling like I should say something. But nothing suitable comes to mind.Oh my God, you like me, you really like me!seems immature. Grabbing his hair and kissing him is out of the question—he’s driving. And even if he weren’t, he brought the idea up a few moments ago but then immediately said that it wouldn’t beappropriate.
Should I tell him I’ve been crushing on him since forever? But what if he means he likes me as a capable assistant rather than as a woman? We’ve been working together for three years, and he’s never done anything to hint that he felt any sort of attraction. Not to mention, he’s been seen with one stunning woman after another. Unlike me, they’d look like Aphrodite even in mismatched footwear.
Chad’s cruel words stir—no self-esteem, no self-respect. I don’t think I’m that bad. I shouldn’t give him any power over me, but the scars he left are too fresh to ignore. And even though I should be happy that Josh said he likes me, I keep second-guessing it. Chad said he liked me, and later that helovedme. Not that Josh is a jerk like my ex-fiancé, but an instinctive need to be extra cautious remains.
“What?” Josh finally prompts me when I continue to stare and keep opening and closing my mouth.
