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“Right, ok,” she says, sounding less than convinced.
She takes a few dainty bites of her salad and sets her fork down.
“We need to discuss some rules.”
“Rules?” I ask, raising a brow.
“Yes, rules.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at her trying to lay down the law. I’ll give her this. Allow her to feel like she’s in control of the situation.
I wave my hand out and nod. “Continue.”
She bites her bottom lip as her eyes bounce between mine. This nervous side of January is something new to me, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t sexy as hell. She’s always so in control and confident. This kink in her armor shows me that there is much more to her than I imagined.
I like it—a lot.
“Ok, so, um, rule number one is no kissing.”
No kissing. Obviously. But it’s now stuck in my head and my gaze briefly drops to her lips.
“Rule number two, no talking about work. Like ever.”
Easy.
“Rule number three, nothing gets too personal. You can’t take anything my mother says and use it against me.”
I nod, leaning back in my chair.
“Most of the time you won’t even need to be around. You can do your thing and I’ll do mine. We don’t need to do anything together. Like as a unit. One meeting at the bunny slopes and that should satisfy my mother.”
I should just agree to her terms, ask her where to sign, and move on. But I don’t. I’m feeling the need to push my assistant a little. Toy with her. Make her pay for accepting a job with the enemy. Oh, this is going to be fun.
My teeth graze my bottom lip, and it isn’t lost on me that her eyes focus on exactly what I’m doing. As I cross my arms across my chest, her eyes drift down to watch my every move. It’s addictive having her attention on me like this.
“So, tell me, January, what are we allowed to do?”
Those intense blue eyes snap up to mine as a rosy blush creeps up her neck and onto her beautiful face. “What?”
I study her. Her little tell. Oh yes, she’s got a tell. It’s the way she gnaws on her bottom lip when she’s nervous. Like she’s doing right now.
“There’s no kissing, no talking about work, nothing personal. So what can we do? Can I wrap my arm around you? Hold your hand? Place my hand on your lower back?” I rest my forearms on the table and lean toward her. “Tell me what I’m allowed to do, January.”
Her lips are slightly parted and I swear I hear a faint moan escape them. She swallows roughly, reaching for her empty wine glass. When she realizes there’s nothing left, she grabs her water glass and gulps it down.
Those sky-colored eyes find mine as her breathing has increased, much like my own. I reach across the table and rest my hand on hers. Her eyes widen and I wonder if she feels the sizzling of my skin touching hers as well.
“How about holding hands? Is this allowed?”
Her gaze fixates on our hands as she slowly shakes her head. “Yes, ok. Holding hands is allowed,” she whispers.
I smirk and pull my hand away.
We finish dinner in silence as I check my emails and read my acceptance speech again. Every so often, I lift my eyes to find January staring at me like she’s trying to figure me out. And I grin. So far, my plan is working. Maybe she realizes I’m not that bad of a guy.
Perhaps my plan isn’t working. After dinner and a few more drinks, we finally made our way back to the room. January went right into the shower and has been in there since.
I made my bed on the couch and changed out of my clothes. If I were alone, I’d simply keep just my boxer-briefs on, but I don’t think January would appreciate that too much. So, I’ve pulled on gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt.
Dinner tonight was more intense than I imagined it would be. I was acutely aware of everything January did. From the simple movement of crossing her legs, to the almost intimate way she took me in. Lately, I’ve had a hard time keeping my thoughts off doing some very naughty things to her and tonight has made it even worse.
As she takes a shower, I envision the water running down her naked body. I imagine the way her hands rub against her soft, wet skin. I picture her fingers rubbing her hardened nipples and sensitive wet folds. I fantasize about climbing in the shower with her, dropping to my knees, and tasting her as she cries out my name. I rub my hard dick through my sweats as the images flash clearly through my head.
