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My head was a mess. Each day, I went home, berating myself for letting his behavior continue, telling myself I’d say something to stop him the following day. Then I’d feel his fingertips casually brush the skin of my neck to “tuck the tag in the back of my shirt” and I’d crumble, needy for those illicit touches.
Two weeks of this.
Two weeks!
I was going insane. I’d never needed to get laid so badly in my entire life. But I couldnotallow myself to have the one man I wanted. There would be no coming back from that, I knew it deep down in my gut. There was no defense strong enough to handle what he was capable of doing if I caved completely. Rowan Locklaine could wreck me, I just knew it.
“How does this look?” Rowan asked as he stepped into the kitchen, pulling me from my lust-filled musings. Turning from the coffee maker, I nearly swallowed my tongue at the sight of him. I’d seen Rowan casual, I’d seen him semi-dressed up—hell, I’d even seen the guy naked! But in a three-piece suit? I was pretty sure my panties just went up in flames.
“Navie?”
“Huh?” I shook my head to clear it of all the dirty thoughts and picked my jaw up off the floor. The way Rowan’s full lips tilted up in a smirk told me he knew where my head had just been.
“The suit. Does it look okay?”
Swallowing loudly, I gave a jerky nod. “Y-yeah. It looks fantastic… I mean good! It looks good.”
Jesus, Navie! Get your shit together!
“Justgood?” That smirk of his turned into a full-blown, knowing smile. “You sure it’s justgood?”
With a roll of my eyes, I turned back to doctor up my coffee and pour him a mug. “You already have a big enough ego, no need to fish for compliments.” I hoped my flippant comment would diffuse some of the tension in the room but when I spun back to face him, Rowan had managed to move from the doorway to right behind me without making a sound.
Like a sexy ninja.
I was practically caged against the counter. “I wouldn’t have to fish for compliments if you’d give them willingly,” he said in a low, seductive voice as his fingers came up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Here, follow my lead. Navie, you look beautiful today.”
I felt those words all the way down to my bones… right before they turned to mush. If I hadn’t been pressed against the counter, I was sure I’d have melted into a puddle on the floor.
“Now it’s your turn,” he coaxed, standing way too close for my own good.
“Y-you look very handsome,” I offered in an embarrassingly breathy voice.
“See?” He chuckled, finally taking a step back. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
“I really don’t like you sometimes.”
“Ah, baby,” he crooned, picking up his mug and bringing it to his lips. “You like me all the time. You just won’t admit it.”
Snatching the mug from his hands, I dumped the rest of his coffee into the sink before gracing him with a smug grin of my own.
“Hey! I was drinking that!”
“Sorry.” I shrugged innocently. “I thought you were finished.” Stepping past him, I called over my shoulder as I left the kitchen. “The photographer will be here any minute. I just saved you from having coffee-stained teeth in front of all the readers ofModern Womanmagazine. You’re welcome.”
With that, I left him grumbling as I headed for his office to make sure everything was set up for the shoot.
So, it was pretty safe to say my plan to wear Navie down wasn’t going as quickly as I’d hoped. It had been two weeks, and despite the want shining back at me from those dark blue eyes, she was still holding strong to her resolve.
I was horny. And pissed.Nota good combination. Something needed to happen, and it needed to happen fast. Or my balls were liable to explode from too much build-up.
Then, like an answer from the gods, my solution came in the form of a buxom brunette photographer with no qualms about flirting in a professional setting. It couldn’t have been more perfectly timed, really. I’d been putting my best moves on Navie with no success, but the moment I saw her staring daggers at the photographer the magazine had hired for the shoot, a light bulb went off. I was going to make her jealous.
And if there was one thing I’d learned in my life, it was that a jealous woman always fought for what she wanted. I was a fucking genius.
We’d been at it for almost an hour. Annie (I think that was her name) posed me in a million and one different positions—in front of the window, leaning against my desk with my arms crossed, sitting behind my desk—there wasn’t a space of my office I hadn’t been photographed in. And she flirted the entire time, a suggestive comment here, a sultry look there. All the while, Navie stood off to the side, watching the whole thing. The woman’s desire for me was blatantly obvious, and I used it to my benefit.
“I have to say,” Annie spoke as the camera continued to click, “you’re a natural in front of the camera.”
