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“Exactly what you’re offering. Comfort.”
“What?” Was that what I was doing?
“Take off your clothes and get on the desk.”
What the fuck? Oh, shit. What in the hell?
Words ricocheted around in my mind, but my feet moved.
One step. Two steps. Three.
I started to close the door, assuming he’d want this supposed event—that wasn’t going to happen—done in private.
“Leave it,” he commanded.
My heart pounded, and my lungs were so tight that I didn’t think they’d ever remember how to function. However, other parts of my body were waking up, heating, and pulsing with the erratic beat of my heart.
Stone couldn’t be serious. This had to be a test, or he was playing a game with me for his pure entertainment. Maybe he was pushing me to see how far I’d go. Perhaps payback for the pool. All because I’d dared to assume I had something he wanted. I figured he'd laugh once I got to the desk and send me packing.
Do I want him to?
There had never been a single test in my life I hadn’t aced. I was an intelligent, determined woman, and Stone would have to concede.
I picked up my pace, putting all three drops of confidence into my walk, exaggerating the swing of my hips. I felt his shadowed gaze following me every step. It wasn’t hard for me to make a beeline to the desk; unlike Stone, his desk and many furnishings were well-lit by the outside light. The desk was like the man, immaculate, big, and spartan, not revealing anything. There was a keyboard and mouse to control the bank of large monitors mounted on the wall and a single closed folder with SHICENT GAMES.
“You planning to stand there all night?”
I jumped. Not because I felt I was doing something wrong by glancing at the file, but because the rich vibrato of his voice vibrated through my core. My mind might be warring with what may or may not be about to happen here, but my loins were in complete accord. I’d spent too many nights with my hand between my thighs after crawling into bed thinking about this man, rehashing any brief moment I had been in his presence. Most of those times were when he passed me in the hall or led the quarterly employee meeting. He was my addiction; I was his addict.
“No.” Nothing more came out. My throat was tight. Dry. If I were truly as bold as my sashay across the room proclaimed, I would ask him for a sip of his drink to irrigate my mouth. I set my book on the floor by the desk. As I rose, I fixed my gaze on the other end of the desk where he stood as I reached up for the hem of the oversized vintage Prince Purple Rain t-shirt I put on after dinner for comfort while Dean worked.
My hands were fucking shaking so bad it took three attempts for me to grasp the cotton material. Get your shit together.
I forced out air from my lungs, not caring if the sound traveled, and I lost points in this game. Fortitude powered me. As I lifted my shirt, the skin of my belly became warm and started to tingle, all from his imagined gaze. I couldn’t tell where he was staring, but a fantasy I’d played out a few times had him eyeing every scrap of flesh revealed like a starving man.
Crossed armed, I dragged the black cotton over my breasts, leaving the delicate material of my bra. Since I got a permanent position at the company, lingerie has been my secret luxury. Every time I purchased a new sexy set, I wondered what Stone would think if he saw me in it.
