“I think it’s a bit late for that.” He smiled at me. Something about his smile was so sad. “Good night,” he whispered, before turning and walking away.
I stood there and watched him walk across the garden. He pulled his phone out on the way and suddenly mine beeped. I reached for it and read the message.
Ryan:It’s going to be hard going to sleep tonight alone, knowing that you’re only a little way away.
I read the message and looked up. He’d stopped walking and was looking at me. The wind was blowing his hair around and ruffling his shirt. I looked at my phone and typed.
Me:I know. For me too. XXX Good night, Ryan.
He read the message and smiled at me. He gave me a small wave and then disappeared into the house. I walked over to the bed and sat down. It was soft and comfortable and I couldn’t wait to climb in. My phone beeped again and I reached for it.
Ryan:Your fucking pigeon is on my bed! How the hell did he even get here?
CHAPTERSEVENTY-EIGHT
Ryan
Poppy had been right. It wasn’t just hard and distracting to work with her, it was fucking torture. And by noon, he couldn’t take it any longer. He felt like he was going to explode. He strode out of the office. He’d been watching her all morning and she’d been driving him crazy. Physically he had something very inconvenient happening in his pants—and a meeting happening in an hour—and well, he needed to sort it out.
“Miss Granger,” he said, standing by her desk.
She looked up at him, biting the end of her pencil seductively. On purpose. “Yes, Mr. Stark.” His name oozed from her mouth like warm, delicious honey.
“Uh . . . may I have a word with you in the filing room?” He was holding a big file against himself, trying to hide that very inconvenient thing that was happening down below. She gazed at the file and her eyes widened.
“Why yes, Mr. Stark.” She stood up slowly, deliberately flirtatious. “You may see me in the filing room.”
She walked in front of him all the way to the room. He was transfixed by the way her skirt pulled across her ass with every step she took. They made it to the filing room and as soon as they did, he locked the door.
They reached for each other. Grabbed. Pulled each other into their arms and started kissing. Fast, hard, hungry and desperate. He had been desperate for her all morning and like an addict getting their hit, he was going to take as much of her as he could. All of her. Every last drop that she was willing to give. He would take it and savor it and devour it.
“God, I’ve been thinking about this all morning,” Poppy whispered into his ear.
“Me too,” he said, pushing her against the metal cabinet. The whole thing shook, and some files fell off and scattered across the floor.
“Shit.” She looked at them.
“Fuck the files.” He pulled at her shirt, opening the buttons and exposing her breasts in that bra—balconette, to be specific. He didn’t bother with the strap at the back, instead he just pulled it down hard, exposing her soft breasts and nipples. They hardened immediately and he leaned in and took one between his lips. Pulling it into his mouth. She threw her head back and let out a long, loud moan. She grabbed him by the back of the head and held him in place as he devoured her. With his free hand, he reached into her skirt and, in one movement, tugged at her panties until they fell to the floor. She spread her legs for him, an invitation that he would gladly accept.
Her body shuddered as he ran his thumb over her, slowly at first, until he couldn’t control himself any longer. She pulled his head up to her mouth and he kissed her deeply as he flicked and rubbed with his thumb until her muscles started to contract. He deepened the kiss even more as he felt her whole body start to shudder, and then go stiff. He held onto her as her body loosened again. She was like putty in his hands now and he was able to do what he wanted with her. To mold her and stretch her into any shape and position that he wanted. And he wanted her. He wanted her like this, face pressed into the filing cabinet, wrists held together by his strong hands, stretched above her head. Her skirt pulled up to her waist and him, inside her, as he thrust and breathed against the back of her neck.
With every thrust the cabinet shook. She shook. He let go of her wrists and then grabbed her hips, pulling her down on him, as if he needed to be deeper inside. But he also wanted to look at her and stare into those amber eyes that had bewitched him from the moment he’d met her. He pulled out and then flipped her around, making her gasp. He lifted her up, wrapped her legs around him and walked her over to the table in the middle of the floor. He laid her down and climbed on top of her. This time there was no speed or urgency. She moaned and he placed his elbows on the side of her face and stared into her eyes. His movements were slow and deliberate this time, not frenzied, not desperate.
She arched her back against the table, she wiggled her hips beneath him as he ground into her. He was going to lose it. Here at work, with her in the filing room. And he didn’t care.
CHAPTERSEVENTY-NINE
Poppy
“Well, that was . . .” I lay on the desk panting. “Unexpected.” I giggled as I buttoned up my shirt.
“Very,” Ryan said. “And very bad to have done it at work like this.”
“I know. I know.” I covered my face with my hands. “Soooobad.”
Ryan rolled onto his side and looked at me. “Oh shit. You lost one of your buttons.”
I sat up and gazed down at my shirt. I looked around the room, but it was nowhere to be seen.
