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He shook his head, avoiding my gaze. “I don’t know.”
I set the envelope down, assessing his posture. His shoulders looked bunched, like he’d been in full stress mode since our dinner last Thursday night.
“You’re so tense,” I murmured, reaching for him. As soon as my hand made contact with the heat seeping through his shirt, I realized my mistake. But despite my pounding heart and the moisture in my panties, I couldn’t stop it. I ran my hand over his upper back. “Do you want a massage?”
Damian turned to me head-on, the full brunt of his masculinity washing over me. Normally he was in tailored suits and dress shirts, but now he was every inch the brawny farm boy I’d fallen in love with during high school. His biceps bulged, freed from the constraints of his dress shirts. The scent of his cologne hit me harder today, or maybe it was just the intensity of his gaze. Something was different today.Waydifferent.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” He stepped closer to me, something in his tone sounding dangerous. Feral. He seemed to loom over me, gobbling me up with his gaze, his energy, his intentions. But I had to be imagining it. Sure, we’d crossed some kind of line that night in his laundry room. But it hadn’t gone further, because he hadMs. Bennettwaiting for him.
“I think it would be a great idea for you,” I said, nervousness pushing me to babble. “You look really tense, so loosening up those shoulders would probably contribute to your overall well-being. Besides, you missed two days at the office, so something must be wrong.” I brushed a stray hair from my face as I went on. “Speaking of which, why weren’t you in Friday or today? I was worried about you.”
“Because I have to keep myself away from you, Jessa,” he said, reaching for my hand. He picked it up gently, turning it palm-up. “The more I’m around you, the harder it is to convince myself not to proposition you. And I really don’t want to proposition someone on my payroll. Even though I’ve wanted to proposition you since I was seventeen.”
I blinked a few times, letting the meaning of his words sink into me. And then again. And then again.
He traced lazy lines across my palm, watching me with the most deliciously destabilizing intensity.
“Ummmm,” I started, as though I had anything to follow up with.
“Tell me I shouldn’t,” he said, stepping even closer. My fingers brushed his chest, and he pushed his thumb across my palm. “Tell me I shouldn’t, and I won’t.”
“I can’t tell you that,” I whispered, my voice nearly sticking to my throat. “But you said it yourself: you can’t proposition someone on your payroll.” I blinked rapidly, trying to see or think or function at all with him this close to me. It didn’t seem possible to continue living in a world where Damian’s heat wasn’t wrapped around me, where his skin wasn’t touching mine. “I mean, that’s what you want, right?”
“Past tense. Wanted,” he growled, jerking me closer to him. His hands slid over the top of my ass, crushing me against him.
My eyes fluttered shut as the hard expanse of his chest found my breasts. Oh dear lord. It felt better than I’d ever imagined to be pressed up against him.
“I mean, even if we both wanted to fuck each other senseless, we can’t. Right?” Where I found the breath to speak, I didn’t know.
He dipped down, his breath hitting my earlobe. A million pinpricks of pleasure skated under my skin, and I almost died perfectly happy in that moment.
“You tell me,” he breathed against my ear.
“Right,” I whispered, forgetting entirely why any of this was a bad idea. Harper blinked through the back of my mind suddenly, reminding me. Damian was taken. And I had no intention of mucking around inside someone else’s mess. “So I should go,” I said, my voice barely working.
“Where are you going?” Damian licked the tip of my earlobe, and I collapsed against him.
“It’s uh…I…um…” Was that hispenisI felt pressed against my hip? My heart raced so quickly I thought I might pass out. This was every fantasy come true and then some.
He still wasn’t mine. Nor would he be, when the haze cleared.
“Yes?” Damian nuzzled the side of my face, and I tipped my head so he could do it again, more freely, possibly for eternity.
“The uh…what do you call it? The…class…” My eyes drifted shut as his stubble scraped against my cheek. I squeezed my legs together. “The class that I’m in or whatever.”
“Oh, your fashion course?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Damian rummaged around in the folds of my dress, lifting up the front portion of it. Then he wrapped his fist in it and tugged, pinning me against him.
My panties were soaked.
“Are you off the clock?” His voice was sex and grit.
I nodded helplessly.
“Then there’s no employer-employee issue in the way. Just give me half an hour. I will personally inspect this dress from head to toe for your class, then I’ll deliver you wherever you need to go.” He cinched his fist even tighter in the fabric of my dress. “Now can I fucking kiss you?”
