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“When your personal life spills over into the workplace, itbecomesmy business,” I counter. Her eyes narrow as we remain in a silent face-off, both refusing to back down. Then I see the telltale slump of her shoulders and know I’ve gained a minor advantage.
“You’re right,” she says. “I’ll make sure to keep my phone put away while I’m working.”
Though she says the words, she clearly doesn’t mean them. There’s something going on in her life she has zero control over. I want to know what that is. Short of shaking the information from her, I don’t know how in the hell I’m going to get her to tell me. I should leave it alone and let her deal with her own messes. It’s not my concern.
But words still slip from my mouth. “I can help you with whatever it is.”
“There’s nothing going on that I care to tell you about. I don’t need help.”
I never — absolutelynever— offer to help anyone, particularly a woman, and to have the offer thrown back at me is frustrating. But neither of us say anything for several moments.
“Dammit, McKenzie! This is ridiculous,” I finally growl.
“I don’t need help from you, Mr. Astor.” And for a brief instant I swear I see a sheen of moisture spread over her eyes, but it’s gone so quickly I may have imagined it.
Distance isn’t doing the trick, so with all of my will to stay away from her gone, I stand and move across the room, drawing closer to her. I have to give her points for not retreating. I see the look in her eyes, see that she wants to turn and run, but her stubborn pride won’t allow her to do that.
“I heard your end of the conversation, McKenzie. Youdoneed my help.” I stop in front of her, forcing her head to tilt up so she can continue facing me. This might have been the wrong move, because now her subtle scent is drifting over me, her warm breath brushing against my throat, her body heat practically burning me.
This woman is certainly casting a spell over me, and I have a feeling the spell won’t be broken until I capture her lips, capture her body, and purge her from my system. Especially after my incredibly vivid dream the day before that left me hungry, wanting, and in the worst of moods.
“Even if I did need help, I wouldn’t ask for it,” she says. Her tone holds only a trace of vulnerability, but that small measure of it makes me want more than ever to pull her into my embrace.
When her helplessness evaporates and a taunting smile fills her lips, the small strand of elastic holding up my will to resist her, snaps. Snaking my arms around her back, I draw her to me, and at long last, kiss her again. How have I managed to wait this long to bring us back together? It’s what we both need.
When she melts against me, I pull back. “You can’t stop me,” I say. What do I mean? Am I speaking about helping her or bedding her? Maybe both. We can’t stop the inevitable.
My lips claim hers again, preventing her from protesting. I expect her to fight me, expect her to protest, but she doesn’t lie to either of us, doesn’t put up a front. Instead, her hands come up to rest on my arms as she opens her sweet mouth to me, and I claim her in a way I’ve been dreaming of doing since that first kiss months ago.
A sigh escapes her, but I catch it. My blood rages as my fingers dip over the curve of her derrière and I tug her hips against my pulsing erection. I want there to be no doubt in her mind about what she’s doing to me. I haven’t had sex in a long,longtime, and it’s showing.
I know we’ll be incredible together. Still, as much as I need a woman, needthiswoman, I should stop. I kiss her a while longer before I find the will to pull back. I do it because this woman has power over me... and I don’t like it.
I don’t know whether she truly comprehends her power or not. She’s beautiful, sensual, and the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met, yet there’s something behind her eyes, something that scares me... as much as it beckons me.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” I say.
“I agree,” she says, her lips trembling.
Finally, a smile spreads over my lips. “The kiss isn’t what I meant shouldn’t have happened, McKenzie,” I whisper as I move across the room and lean against my desk. “You holding anything back from me is what shouldn’t happen.”
“I don’t understand,” she says as she takes the smallest step backward, a sign of weakness. She seems to notice the gesture and stops, her shoulders firming once again, her eyes narrowing.
“There’s something going on between us, and it’s not going away. The logical conclusion is to relieve the ache... for both of us.” My tone and eyes reveal nothing.
She pauses before smiling... the merriment not showing in her eyes. “Is this what you want, Byron? A sweet submissive woman? Should we climb on your desk and screw like bunnies right now, or schedule a time?”
“A little crude, McKenzie, but that can be arranged. Still, I’d prefer to be outside of the family headquarters when I...” If I wasn’t rock hard before, I am now as I picture doing just this. I cut myself off from speaking.
“So what if we consider each other desirable? So what if you turn me on... on occasion? I still think you’re an asshole. Just because my body might say I want you doesn’t mean the rest of me will go along.”
I’m not fooled. “Iwillenjoy taming you, McKenzie.”
She’s silent for a moment before raising her hand to her hip and looking around the room. “How long do you need, Byron? Five minutes? Ten? Surely not more than that. With you acting like a hormonal teenager, I’m sure if I simply bend over your desk, you could be done before the second hand reaches the minute mark.”
Her spate of words intrigues me more. She’s obviously used to getting her way, used to dominating men and making them pant and throw themselves at her feet. She’s never dealt with me before. I’m neither submissive nor easily sidetracked.
“That’s a start,” I tell her. “But I’ll need a lot more time. Trust me. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘the best sex you ever had’? I’ll be that and more. I guarantee it.” She takes a deep breath, and then her eyes glaze over, shutting me out. I know we’re done with this... for now.
