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There just didn’t seem to be time to get into the nitty gritty of our budding affair. She didn’t seem uncomfortable and she didn’t ask me to explain. In fact, she acted like she was perfectly happy not talking about it, which was a relief. I thought I sensed some reservation on her part, as if the kiss was an aberration and not one worth mentioning.
I tried not to let it bother me. If she had been anxious to discuss its meaning, I would have found myself tongue tied. I wasn’t sure how I would handle the accusation first thing in the morning. But she was professional, if a little cold. She learned her lesson about breakfast and submitted to that ritual with tact. But her heart wasn’t in it, I could tell. Something had changed subtly, and I knew without asking that there was no going back.
I concentrated on my work for the remainder of the day, although I asked her into my office more than usual. I just wanted to see her, to check if things really were as messed up between us as I thought. Every time she came in, she was perfectly professional. She didn’t ask what I was up to, or why I needed so much attention that day.
She gave me the information I asked for each time and politely resisted the urge to communicate further. It drove me crazy. I wanted to see some kind of recognition in her eyes, some longing or frustration, anything but the blank slate that she presented. I wanted to know that I touched her; I wanted to see her reaction—no matter what it was. But she foiled me at every turn.
By the end of the day, I was livid. I started off determined to confront her and tell her that we couldn’t possibly see each other outside of the office. Each successive time I asked her to come in, that thought drifted further and further from my mind.
I wanted her. I needed to have her. Nothing was going to stand in my way. I felt the primal instincts rise up inside my chest and they would not be ignored. I watched my rational mind recede until there was nothing left and the only thing that mattered was my wounded ego.
When Ava came back the last time to ask if I needed anything before she went home, I made my move. I stood up from my desk, closing the distance between us. In my gut, logic demanded that I put a stop to this. A denial was on my lips. I was about to tell her that it wasn’t working out, that I needed her help to avoid turning this working relationship into a torrid love affair.
She raised her chin, watching me come with grim determination. I was almost there, almost level with her, when she opened her mouth to speak. She caught me off guard with her soft accusation.
“Why did you apologize to me on Friday night?”
That was it. She destroyed the last of my will power with that one simple question. Throwing caution right out the door, I gathered her into my arms and kissed her.
Chapter 18
Ava
It was difficult to remain in the same office with him when he refused to acknowledge what he had done. I wasn’t some high school intern or anyone else that he had to refuse. I was a grown woman capable of making up my own mind about who I wanted to date.
If he was lording my position over my head, making me perform sex acts to get a raise, that would be one thing. But he was becoming almost my friend and my confidant. That he also happened to be my boss was irrelevant in some ways. I knew it wouldn’t look good, and that we would have to keep our tryst a secret, but so what? Plenty of people snuck around in order to be with the ones they loved. It didn’t make what they were doing criminal.
But Nate refused to meet my eyes when I went in to have breakfast with him. He refused to bring up the kiss and focused entirely on the company’s business. I couldn’t help but feel rejected. Not only would he not face up to what he had done, but he wanted to sweep it under the rug. If that’s how he was playing it, I thought, fine by me. I could be just as stubborn and professional as he could.
We got to the end of the day without incident, although he did call me into his office more often than usual. Every time, I wondered if this would be it. Would he bring up the kiss and explain why he tried to pretend it didn’t happen? But he never did. I was fed up and ready to go home when the workday ended.
Marching into his office, I was prepared to offer my assistance for any last little tasks he wanted done. What I wasn’t prepared for was his sudden capitulation. He stood up, leaving his work at his desk. Coming close, I couldn’t think what else he wanted other than a replay of Friday night’s action.
I stopped him when he was just a breath away, asking him the question that had been on my mind from the beginning. “Why did you apologize to me on Friday night?”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Without any further drama, he circled my waist with one hand and pulled me in close. I tilted my head up, ready, willing, and able to accept his kiss. He didn’t disappoint. His lips were hard and insistent. He was through playing games.
This time I was ready for him. Instead of holding my arms awkwardly by my sides, I looped them around his neck, falling into the embrace. I opened my mouth, welcoming him inside. It was such a treat to feel him explore my intimate spaces. I felt like this exchange was weeks in the making. Ever since I first laid eyes on him, I knew I wanted to make out with him. He was just too attractive, too powerful, and seductive.
I knew that somewhere within him, he was hoping I would refuse. He didn’t want to be known as an office cad or a womanizer like his father. But that wasn’t my responsibility. I wanted him, and I wasn’t going to stand on ceremony.
I relaxed against him, lengthening my torso as the exchange stoked my fire. He stood rigid, not moving, his entire focus on the kiss. I could feel his chest, rock hard and unforgiving, against my breasts. I wanted to run my fingers across it, to feel the rise and fall of his pectoral muscles. But I didn’t dare move away. I was terrified that if I closed my mouth, if I tried to advance the agenda, he would stall me.
He was at war with himself, I could tell. On one hand, he wanted this as badly as I did. But on the other, he was desperately trying to salvage the situation. I decided there was only one way to move forward. I was going to have to shock him into action.
Lowering my arms from around his neck, I went straight for the gold mine. I undid his trousers, my lips firmly pressed to his, my chest rubbing against him. Slipping a hand inside, I wrapped my fingers around his shaft.
He gasped, pulling away and holding me at arm’s length. My hand slid from the confines of his pants, leaving the smooth surface of his cock far behind. I licked my lips, ready for more. I wasn’t going to make this easy for him. If he wanted to turn me away, he was going to have to do it with a swollen tool. I looked down to see the protrusion beneath his waistline. The pants hung open, his underwear making a tent in the open space.
He growled in frustration, making that split second decision that I hoped he would make. I had done it. I achieved my goal and ripped the Band-Aid off. He was no longer concerned with propriety or how this would look to other people. It was only him and me in the room, and all bets were off.
He came back to me, more adamant than before. He brushed the hair from my face, capturing my lips with an urgency that defied all odds. I reached for his pants again, but he leaned out of the way. I supposed that after crossing that barrier, he wanted to be in control. I slid my hands around to the opposite side of his waist, giving in. Pulling him tight, I lost myself in the kiss, knowing that it was only the beginning.
There was a living room set at the far end of the suite. He lured me there, his movements quick but strained. He sat down on the loveseat, pulling me into his lap. I straddled him, my skirt coming up to my thighs. My shoes still on, I settled against his crotch, feeling the bulge in the exact place it was meant to be.
I lowered my lips to his, resuming the kiss. He slid his hands up my thighs to my hips, grasping my underwear at its waistband. I had a momentary flash of embarrassment. I wasn’t wearing sexy panties, just the utilitarian cotton variety, but he didn’t care. He pulled them down over my ass, dragging the cloth as far down my thighs as it could go.
I felt the intensity in his play and moved to accommodate him. Raising one leg, I allowed him to slide the garment free. Moving the opposite leg, I resettled myself once he flung the thing off onto the couch. My pussy was naked and primed for battle. She settled roughly on top of his rod, one thin layer of fabric the only remaining barrier.
