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I took advantage of someone too vulnerable to know what the hell she was doing and enjoyed every fucking second of it. If she gave me a singlecome hitherlook, I guarantee I’d take advantage of it all over again.
I pull out a chair at the counter. “You’re fully clothed.”
She gives me an overly bright smile. “I know how irresistible I am. I figured I should tone down the magnificence.”
There’s a burning in my gut—guilt and rage both. I’m not a fucking animal.
Except with her...I sort of am.
I take the plate she’s just set on the counter and pull it toward me. “You have nothing to fear. You know me—one and done.”
The smile doesn’t leave her face, but it dims a little, and I wish I hadn’t said it.
She grabs the spatula tightly, and I shove half the breakfast sandwich she’s made in my mouth, remembering that same hand in my hair last night. The way she gripped it hard as she came. I wasn’t even inside her yet and I was worried I might fucking explode just listening to her moan.
I wince.Stop thinking about it.
“Are you okay?” she asks. Jesus Christ, she’s treating me like some lovesick young pup she’s got to let down easy.
My eyes open. “I’m fine.” The words are barked, angrier than I intended.
She bites her lip, a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Do you want—”
I push away from the counter. “I’m going in early,” I tell her, grabbing the other half of the sandwich. “Thanks for breakfast.”
I’m making the situation worse. The way I always do.
The way she does, too.
There’s no way this will end well.
* * *
I’d plannedto avoid her when she got into work, but it hardly mattered.
All it took was one whiff of her shampoo as she passed to plunge me into a memory of last night, long legs wrapped around my hips, so far gone that she couldn’t even run her smart mouth for once.
One and done? She’s opened a fucking Pandora’s box, and I can’t seem to close it. I can’t enter the office without picturing my hand sliding through her hair as I pull her mouth to mine. I can’t look at the bar without picturing her spread like a feast atop it.
And this is shit I’ve imagined many, many times, but it was vague before. Now I can imagine it so vividly it’s as if we’re actually doing it, so vividly that just the sight of her is enough to get me hard . . . a situation that isn’t ideal at work or even at home, given she’s staying with me.
Laura emerges from the kitchen, asking me to check how much steak we’ve got coming in. I give her a terse nod and force myself to go back to Kate.
The office is too full of her. Her scent, her bossiness, her smile, that filthy little knowing thing in her eyes. She’s not even looking at me and she’s definitely not smiling, but it’s all here anyway, floating around the fucking room like a virus. Her hair is spilling around her shoulders—I picture it fisted in one hand as I sweep that computer off her desk and bend her over.
I pull up the order but make the mistake of another deep breath. I get a hit of her shampoo and my cock throbs in response.
I have to get the fuck out of here.
“I’m ordering lunch. Do you want anything?” I ask as I rise.
She stares at her computer screen, her mouth pursed. “No, thank you.”
Maybe she’s just focused on work. Or maybe I fucking ruined things last night.
I climb to my feet.Jesus, this is awkward. “I’ll be running errands all afternoon, so I won’t see you when you leave. I’ll be home around ten.”
She chews her lip. “You don’t need to. I’m just saying you...can do whatever you want.”
