“Presley?”
I freeze.
Saint. Like I summoned him with my filthy thoughts.
I stand from my desk quickly, bumping my knee on the edge, like I’ve been caught doing something illegal.
My heart feels like it’s slamming against my ribs.
“Yes,” I say quickly, forcing my voice to sound steady.
The door opens, and there he is.
His gaze sweeps over me, slow and assessing. Lingering long enough to make my pulse spike. He closes the door behind him and leans against it.
“Am I interrupting?” he asks.
My stomach flips.
Because the real answer is yes. Yes, he’s interrupting my fantasy about his dick being inside me.
I sit back down and cross my legs, then lean back in my chair, acting like I have complete control over everything right now.
“Depends,” I say evenly. “On what you think you’re interrupting.”
His mouth curves like he already knows the answer.
And that just makes everything worse because now … I don’t want him to leave.
SAINT
I could feel it the second I stepped into her office.
Not a bad feeling. More like there’s an electrical current in the room.
Presley sits behind her desk, her posture a little too straight. Her hair is slightly mussed, like she just gathered it and wrapped the band around it, without even trying to straighten out the pieces. And her puffy pink lips are parted just enough to give her away.
But it’s her eyes that confirm my suspicion. They’re dark and focused on me. Almost like she’s deciding whether I’m a problem or a solution.
Yeah. I have a pretty good guess it’s a mix of both.
And the tone in her voice tells me she’s trying hard to stay in control.
I watch her, taking in the small details. The way her fingers tap on the arms of the chair. The way her breathing is uneven.
But still, I hold my stare.
I push off the door and walk toward her slowly.
“Okay,” I say. “Then I’ll ask a different question.”
Her brows raise.
“Do you want me to leave?” I stop walking.
Her throat moves as she swallows, and her answer comes fast. “No.”
I take another step closer. And another.
