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Old friend? He’d like to think they were a bit more than that.
“How’s it going?” Mauricio held out a hand, and Harrison shook it with a pinch of crippling pressure.
“Good. We were just firming up some plans for tonight.”
Mauricio’s head cocked and he glanced at Mariella. “I was coming by to see if you wanted to grab lunch.”
Mariella lifted her cute little lunch bag again, but before she could say anything, Harrison slipped behind her desk and caressed her shoulders, massaging softly.
She tensed, but didn’t shoulder him off. “Thanks, but I’m eating in. Summer’s coming and I’m trying to behave.”
Fuck behaving. He leveled the other man with a look that made it perfectly clear Mariella was more than a friend to him as he swept the hair away from her shoulder so he could tease the sensitive side spot beneath her ear with his exploring fingers.
Her shoulder lifted, but her effort to nudge him off held little conviction as she also seemed to sink deeper into his touch. Good. He preferred to have her conflicted rather than adamant and distant. They were making progress.
Mauricio chuckled uncomfortably then cleared his throat. “It’s always bikini season in the Virgin Islands.”
Harrison’s hands stilled on her shoulders. Was she planning a trip?
Mariella laughed nervously. “A bikini’s a tall order.”
Why the hell was she talking to this guy about her body and bikinis? He casually caught the lobe of her ear between his fingers and gave a soft pull, knowing how incredibly sensitive her ears were.
She caught his hand, and blurted, “I’m putting a new proposal together for a December bride. Let’s sit down around one today to go over the details.”
“Sounds good.” The man’s glare narrowed on Harrison’s hands, then he met his stare with a tight smile. “Nice meeting you, Hudson.”
“Yeah, you too, Ralph.”
Mariella rolled her eyes and shoved him away the instant Mauricio was gone. “Why didn’t you just pee around my desk? Could you have been any more obvious about marking your territory? I’m shocked my ankles aren’t soaking wet!”
“What’s in the Virgin Islands?”
“Sand.” She stood and grabbed her lunch.
He followed her out of the office. “Where are you going?”
“I like to eat outside when it’s nice.” Her steps were clipped. That little ear pull definitely pushed her buttons.
He jogged beside her and whispered, “I’d like to eat you.”
Her steps fumbled and she hissed, “Harrison, I’m at work!”
“That makes it more fun.”
Her lips firmed and she glared up at him. An elderly couple exited the elevators, and headed toward the lobby. Grabbing his arm, she tugged him into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she poked him in the chest.
“Knock it off. You can’t come here and act all territorial when you have no claim to me. You embarrassed me! No massaging my shoulders or touching my ears or—"
His mouth crashed over hers, cutting off her lies. Her lunch bag dropped to the floor as she practically gnawed at his mouth with pent up passion. She was so full of shit with her little unaffected act.
Her fingers raked through his hair as he lifted her off her feet and shoved her into the wall. She moaned into his mouth, grinding her body against his and tugging his hair.
“Embarrassment doesn’t make your panties wet,” he growled, dragging his kiss along her jaw and sliding his hand under her blazer.
She turned her cheek and stared, panting, at the call buttons. “We’re not moving.”
He punched out a thumb and hit the button for his floor. “All I want to do is fuck you in that necklace.”
She shut her eyes, leaning her head into the wall and groaning as he kissed down her throat. “This isn’t what we agreed.”
“Tell me it’s not what you want, and I’ll stop.”
The elevator slowed and he waited for her to decide.
“What’s it gonna be, Mariella?” He dragged his lips over the pearls draped across the base of her throat and nudged his nose to her ear. “What’s going to leave you more satisfied in the end?”
She groaned and dropped her feet to the floor. The doors opened and she shoved past him. “You stink like sweat.”
His mouth twitched with a smile. He bent and picked up her lunch, grabbing the bruised apple that rolled out of the bag.
“My room’s this way,” he called, heading down the hall.
She pivoted and marched past him. “You’re evil.”
“Am I? Give me five minutes, and I’ll show you heaven and have you screaming to God.”
She scoffed and shot a paranoid glance over her shoulder. “Hurry. I don’t want anyone to see us.”
He didn’t like hiding. They were adults. “We could just go back down stairs and—”
“Harrison.”
He chuckled. “This is me.”
Unlocking the door, he waved her in. She checked the hall again, then disappeared inside.
He set her lunch on the dresser and removed his shirt. Mariella closed the curtains, her demeanor tense and paranoid.
