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But this is Blake Ford. I shouldn’t be melting into my panties in his kitchen. I shouldn’t be thinking about what those lips could do when they’re on my pussy.
I shouldn’t wonder what size his cock is while I run my hands down his back, scraping my nails along the shirt he wears.
I shouldn’t be doing this at all.
“Blake,” I gasp. My voice is breathy, and I want him—God, Iwanthim—but I manage to push my hands against his chest so that he stops. “We shouldn’t do this.”
He growls at the back of his throat, but he steps away.
“Sorry,” she murmurs.
I shake my head and he holds out a hand for me. I take it and he helps me off the counter. I clear my throat and tug at my top to right it. Blake looks down at me with primal eyes, and I swallow hard. Stopping him is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“You were saying?” he asks.
“I was,” I say, trying to pull myself together. What the hell am I doing? I try to focus on the tablet again, but I struggle to think straight. My mind spins and where Blake’s cologne just surrounded me a moment ago, it clings to my clothes now.
I’m hyperaware of Blake at my side. My nerve endings are on fire. When I point and flip pages and do all the right things to continue the presentation, his deep voice rumbles in his chest as he agrees, and it only makes my heart beat faster.
The tension in the air is so thick, I can run my hands through it.
“Okay,” Blake finally says when I turn to him. “You can go ahead and put that together for me.”
“You like it?” I ask. “What would you like me to change, adjust…” I let my voice trail off when he shakes his head.
“It’s perfect just the way it is.” His gray eyes linger on my face, sliding down to my lips again, but Blake forces his gaze up to my eyes. “I trust you to take care of it. Let me know when you need me again.”
I need you right now.
“I will,” I say and lick my lips.
When I do, Blake lifts his hand. Slowly, he traces my bottom lip with his thumb. My stomach clenches. If he tries to kiss me again now, if he doesanythingat all, I’m not going to be able to say no again. Every fiber in my body screams for a release. I ache for him.
I dig my nails into my palm to bring myself back to reality and clear my throat.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I have something for you to look at,” I say. Professional, that’s what I’m supposed to be. “I’ll email you an invoice.”
“Perfect,” Blake says.
He holds out his arm, gesturing toward the door. It’s time for me to leave. I don’t want to go, but if I stay, I’m going to do something I’ll regret. Blake Ford is aclient. And not evenmyclient. Raven sent him to me; I’m working with Ruby Blue. I can’t misbehave. I can’t do something that will screw with Raven’s name. Leaving is the right thing to do.
Without another word, I walk to the door. Blake is on my heels.
“Thank you for your time,” Blake says when I turn to him at the door.
He’s managed to rebuild himself, and he’s polite and distant again. This is what I want from him—what Ineedfrom him—but when he’s so cold with me, it shoots a pang through my chest. I like the hot-and-heavy Blake, the jump-my-bones Blake, so much better. But this is the right thing to do.
Turn around and walk away.
“I’ll wait for your call, Rachel,” Blake says evenly.
“I’ll be in touch,” I say with the same amount of professionalism and walk to the elevator.
Thank God Blake doesn’t escort me. Maybe he doesn’t trust himself, either.
When the doors slide shut, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I press my fingers against my forehead and try not to think about the way his hand cupped my breast, his lips locked on mine.
Blake is a drug. If I’m not careful, I’ll be addicted. It will only take one hit—I don’t have to go that far to know that being with him, letting him fuck me, will rock my world.
