“Might want to lock the door next time,” she interrupts. “I’m pretty sure your dad would actually have a heart attack if he had been the one who’d caught you.”
I push away from the desk, tugging my leg from Forest’s grip. “There won’t be a next time.”
“Whatever you say.” Barbara laughs before shutting the door firmly. No wonder my parents were able to get away with their shenanigans. At least I can trust Barbara to be discreet.
“Angel…” Forest crawls toward me, reaching out.
“No.” I stand and rush to slip my heels on, backing away when he stands. “That can’t happen ever again, Mr. Woods.”
“Please, angel. Don’t call me that,” he says softly.
I make my escape to the bathroom with my purse, splashing cold water on my face before reapplying my smudged makeup. That was too close, stupidly risking my heart and career for a man I have no future with. If I can’t control myself around Forest, then I’ll surrender and tell Dad that I’d like to switch with Zayden so that I can work under Mrs. Pena, as Dad had put forth as an option during our meeting.
“You’re not switching, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Forest says when I bump into him after stepping out of the restroom.
My mouth drops open. “How did you know?”
He looks off to the side, double-checking that we’re alone, before he crowds me against the door. “Because you’re as much of a runner as Sebastian, and I’ve had enough of you running out on me. So, no, you’re not switching.”
I press my index finger against his chest. “If you think you get to decide my position in this company, you can go fuck?—”
“Oh, I plan on it.” He cups my cheeks and tips my head back. “But I’ll wait ‘til we get home.” He kisses me, then steps away quickly before another assistant, Kimora, turns the corner, smiling as if she knows our secret when she squeezes past me into the restroom.
Maybe Barbara isn’t as discreet as I’d hoped.
Thursday, after putting the kids to bed, I squeal and dodge Forest’s reach when he tries to grab me around the waist, as he’s tried to do the past few nights.
“Angel, wait, I just want to talk.”
“I call bullshit,” I harshly whisper, darting toward the front door.
As fast as I may be, with Forest’s long legs and arm span, he’s faster. He slaps his hands against the door over my shoulders. My body is a traitor, my back arching so that I can push my ass against him, his jeans rough against the bare backs of my thighs. Every night, I tell myself I’m going to show up in a baggy sweat suit with the drawstrings knotted tight, and every single night, I fail at doing so, scuttling across the street when I think no one is looking. I didn’t even wear my robe tonight!
“Angel,” Forest groans, dropping a hand to my right hip to hold me in place, bending his knees to thrust against me. “You drive me fucking mental. You say you want to move on, but then you show up in these tiny outfits with a new pedicure, and I’m not imagining it when you bend over for longer than necessary, daring me to take a picture.”
Dammit! He’s not supposed to say the quiet part out loud! The only thing I can do now to save myself is turn and attack, tickling Forest viciously until he’s forced to drop his arms and retreat.
“Ha!” I spin and fling the door open.
Forest catches me before I can take one step out onto the stoop, and he lifts me off my feet, carrying me to his bedroom.
“This is kidnapping, you know!” I say as soon as he’s locked me inside with him.
“Angel-napping, more like,” he says, setting me on my feet.
I back away and point my finger at him. “I could have you arrested for false imprisonment.”
“But you won’t.” He pulls his sweater off over his head, his hair a sexy mess, then advances on me slowly, distracting me with his abs. “I’ll do it as many times as it takes to get you to talk to me.”
“I didn’t realize ‘talking’ required you taking off your clothes,” I say, annoyed with myself when my eyes drop to his happy trail of hair that disappears behind his waistband. I want to run my finger all the way down that trail, then follow it up with my tongue.
“With you, it does.” He suddenly grips the back of my neck, winding his right arm around my waist, yanking me into his lean chest. “I have a proposition for you.”
“You’re propositioning me?” I ask with a scoff. “That’s another crime, ass?—”
He kisses me to shut me up. “No. God no. I meant like proposing a plan.”
I wrinkle my nose, letting my hands drift to his narrow hips, tracing the hard V-cut of his Adonis muscles with my thumbs. “All right, let’s hear this grand plan of yours,” I say, curious against my will to hear his answer.
