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Hunter was into darker—or perhaps the word was rougher—sexual experiences than Fletcher and Daniel. He’d never dug for details, and knew he was unlikely to receive any, even if he did ask.
Daniel had once asked Fletcher if they should be worried about Hunter, and he’d shrugged. “As long as it’s not illegal, and consensual, then the way I see it is its none of our business. He just has... unique tastes.”
And that had been that.
Fletcher watched Olivia making small talk with a group of people; nodding, laughing, taking notes on her phone. His eyes roamed over her figure, taking in the figure-hugging red material that split up the side and dipped in a deep cowl neck.
The dress was sexy as hell, and she looked completely fuckable. If she was trying not to be noticed by him, she had worn the wrong outfit.
She lifted her glass, took a sip, then licked her lips.
Fucking hell.
He slipped his finger under his collar and tugged. There was no way he was spending the rest of the night staring across the room like a teenage boy crushing on a girl. After a week of barely seeing her or speaking to her, Fletcher wanted answers.
What was she scared of?
Like a tiger after his prey, he made his way across the room. When she spotted him coming toward her, her eyes widened and she swallowed.
God, what he’d give to see her do that on her knees in front of him.
He felt like letting out a physical growl.
“Mr. Dufort,” Olivia said sweetly, as he stopped beside her. Her eyes swept the group of people around her as if making sure they had heard her impersonal greeting.
He nodded to them with little warmth, and they naturally turned away as he’d intended.
“Olivia,” Fletcher replied. “Your team has done a great job this evening.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Sir?
Fucking hell. She could call him sir as she screamed his name.
“Can I get your assistance with something important, please?” he asked, cupping her elbow and trying to lead her away. She didn’t budge. Nervousness filled her eyes as his gaze narrowed. “Now.”
“Of course.” She nodded and removed her arm from his hold before following him at a distance through the room.
Fletcher’s jaw stiffened. A week ago, they would have walked beside each other laughing or talking business. He hated that he had destroyed their relationship.
But it didn’t change the desire he had for her.
He led them along a corridor where several conference and meeting rooms sat empty. Opening the door to one of the empty rooms, he indicated for her to enter.
She hesitated.
He raised a brow.
She sighed and walked in, their bodies brushing as she did.
He followed and shut the door.
“What’s going on, Olivia?” he asked, the only light in the room trickling in from the city lights outside.
She turned to face him, her body a temptation his fingers were itching to touch. His eyes slid across her neck, down her decolletage to the red dress which gloved her body.
“I’m putting distance between us while we work out how to resolve this... tension.”
