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Granted, it was fantastic sex, but I just can’t. I step into the elevator, making sure there’s ample space between Branson and me as the doors close.
I sigh with relief when we reach the foyer and exit the building without seeing another person. Branson hails a cab, and I climb in without meeting his eyes.
As soon as he slides in beside me his hand reaches for my knee. I clench my teeth trying to ward off the heat that his touch incites when his voice interrupts my resolve.
“Riley, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, glancing out the window and watching as New York passes us by.
The cab pulls up to an upscale restaurant on Fifth Avenue. Branson greets the waitress by name before we’re shown to the best table in the house. Within a few seconds, we’re served wine, and Branson is apparently a regular patron as they didn’t even ask his order. For a second I wonder if he bought Lisa here too.
I shake my head at the thought, and Branson’s hand closes over mine. “Riley, spit it out. You’re coiled tight as a new mattress.”
I meet his blue gaze and consider lying, but I find the guts to tell him the truth. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”
Branson’s eyes cloud with confusion as he takes his hand away from mine. If I said I’m an alien from the Mars, I’m sure he wouldn’t be more shocked. “You don’t enjoy this?”
“Yes,” I whisper before clearing my throat. I take a fortifying sip of wine before our eyes meet again. “I don’t want our relationship to interfere with my career.”
“It isn’t. In fact…” Branson smiles and takes my wrist. He rubs small circles on the inside waking up all my fuck-me-now hormones. “I think it’s made you better at your job.”
I smile and shake my head. “They’re talking, Branson. I heard two women today say that…” I sigh and take another sip of wine. “It doesn’t matter what they said it just matters that they think I’m sleeping with you to get ahead.”
“But we both know that’s not true, so why does it matter?”
“It matters to me. I still want to make a name for myself. I don’t want people thinking I got a leg up professionally because I fucked you.” My words sound harsh to my own ears, but I can’t stop them from tumbling out. A waiter arrives as I say the last few words and he quickly retakes his leave. “That’s what they’re saying, Branson.”
Branson huffs before calling the waiter and barking out an order of two medium-rare New York strips. He turns to me, this time his eyes are as cold as the Antarctic. “You and I know that isn’t the truth, so before you kick me to curb Riley, answer this. Do you want to fuck me?”
His voice is low and ruthless and a thrill courses through my body at the hint of danger. I nod and play with the stem of my wine glass.
“That’s settled then. Who were they;? They’ll be out on their asses before noon tomorrow.”
My eyes widen as his words. “Branson, you can’t just fire them.”
“Why not? I don’t like gossip-mongers anymore than I like stupid-fucks and don’t want either working for me. Who were they?”
I get a glimpse of the ruthless man he had warned me he was. I pull my hair up into a messy bun on top my head and fasten it with a band I had around my wrist from when I let it down earlier, anything to diffuse the atmosphere between us. “Branson I don’t know.” I know where they sit, but I don’t know their names.
“You’re protecting them, why would you do that?” Branson taunts me. I can see his carotid bouncing in his neck.
“I don’t want them to lose their jobs because I couldn’t say no. And I really don’t know their names, just what they look like.” I say the words, ashamed to admit they’re true.
“I couldn’t say no either, and I still won’t. No one is going to determine who I’m with and no one is going to make you feel bad for doing it. This isn’t stopping unless you can look me in the eye and tell me you never want me to touch you again.”
My breath hastens even as my nipples harden. I know I can’t look him in the eye and say that, for fuck sakes, my body was already begging for his touch again.
“Right.” He grins at me satisfied. “Now since that’s settled, I have something else I want to discuss with you. I’m tired of playing hide and seek. I don’t give a damn who knows I’m seeing you, come tomorrow morning we will no longer be a secret.”
I gasp at his words, my eyes widen at the thought of the whole company knowing about our relationship. “Branson, you can’t be serious.”
“I’m as serious as I was the first day I met you. I don’t give a damn. I want the world to know you’re mine.”
A thrill runs through my body at the words. Mine.
“Okay, but can we at least take it slow?” I ask in a small voice.
“I’ve already fucked you seven ways to Sunday, and now you want to take it slow?” Branson’s crude words make a blush bloom on my cheeks. Heat rushes to my face, and his blunt words turn me on.
