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Bristol doesn’t hesitate at the threshold. She comes in like I brought her here with me, as my secretary, and Call-Me-Candy doesn’t exist at all. My chest seizes. If Candy was just a stress hallucination, then great. Perfect. I have to fire Bristol all over again. Convince Greg to let her work for him. Start a new company and make her workthere.
She leans over my desk, nudges my coaster into the correct place, and turns the handle just so. I won’t have to fuck around with it when I pick it up. My left hand is still sore from the fight, a lingering pain, but this will hurt less.
“Where’d you find the coffee?”
“One of the doormen let me into a storage area on the first floor. Somebody mislabeled the box it was in. Lucky for me, this place is fancy, so I could grind the beans in the break room on four.”
And then make coffee, apparently.
“The rest of the pot is down the hall with a sticky note warning people that it’s only for you.”
It’s the perfect color. One cream. No sugar. Bristol went out of her way to do this. I look up into her heart-stopping green eyes, the ones that haunt my dreams when I can fall asleep at all. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now get out.”
Bristol drops her purse onto my desk. “No, I don’t think I will.”
“You don’t work for me.”
“Nope.” She turns as if she’s forgotten something and goes to my office door. Shuts it. Locks it. The sight of her ass in her skirt wipes the next acerbic comment from my brain. When she returns, she comes all the way around my desk and pushes at my chair until there’s enough space for her body to fit. Then she climbs onto my lap, her legs tucked next to my thighs. Holy fuck. “That means you can’t tell me what to do.”
“I can absolutely tell you what to do.”
“I mean…you can say the words, if it makes you feel better. But I don’t have to listen.” Bristol tugs one of my hands off the arm of the chair and puts it on her waist. Her other hand brushes the collar of my shirt. My right hand flies up to trap hers before I can stop myself. I pin her palm to my chest instead. One corner of her mouth lifts in a tiny, satisfied smile. Her other hand finds the buttons of my shirt and traces them down and down and down until her fingertips brush the zipper of my pants. “Sometimes you have to listen to what people do, not what they say.”
She adds a little more pressure, and my cock twitches. Of course I’m hard. Of course I’m dying to fuck her. “Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it? Because I will.”
Bristol shrugs, her fingers curling around my cock through my pants. “I can’t say I hate the idea.” She blushes. “But really, I came here to talk to you.”
“This isn’t talking.”
“Isn’t it?” She squeezes, and I yank her closer, settling her pussy over my zipper. Bristol bites back a little gasp, her other hand coming to rest on my shirt. “I actually—I actually think this counts as a conversation.”
“You should leave.”
“Right. That’s what I came here to talk to you about.” Both hands flex on my chest. “I’mnotleaving. It’s not just something I said in the heat of the moment. I want to be here, and I won’t let you stop me.”
“Oh? What are you going to do? Seduce me into agreeing that this is the perfect place for you?”
“Would it work?”
“No.”
Bristol studies my face. “I don’t think you’re telling the truth, Mr. Leblanc.”
“Will.”
Her eyebrows go up. “It’s not very professional to call you by your first name.”
“My mistake. I didn’t realize you were straddling meprofessionally.” I’m not going to touch her anywhere but her waist. I’mnot. But her skirt is riding up to expose the soft skin of her legs, and it feels like a choice between dying and putting my palms on her thighs. Fine. I choose life. And then my hands choose to slide up toward her hips, up and up and up until— “I changed my mind, Bristol. It’s considered extremely fucking professional when you’re not wearing panties.”
“Last time I wore them near you, you—” Bristol drops her voice to a whisper. “—made them into a ball and shoved them into my mouth.” She clears her throat. “I’m not saying it wasn’t hot, but it’s hard to have a conversation that way.”
“What makes you think I want to have a conversation with you? I don’t even want you in the building.”
“And yet…” She rocks her hips forward, her bare pussy brushing the front of my pants. “You haven’t pushed me away.”
