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Her nostrils flare as her chest rises and falls with resentment.
“Do you want to be responsible for sending a man out on the streets, Roxanne?” I ask, pushing my hips harder against her. “Because when it comes to you, I don’t give a shit about anyone else. I’ll send him out today without a shirt on his back if that means he’ll never look at you again.”
Roxanne’s gaze fills with fury as she opens her mouth to speak. Before she can get a word out, three hard knocks sound from my door.
“Fuck,” I growl against her lips. She places a hand on my chest and quickly shoves me away.
I take a few steps back, straightening my jacket and running my fingers through my hair.
I instantly feel the loss of her touch. I fucking hate that I’m starting to crave Roxanne more than the whiskey lingering on my breath. She’s quickly becoming my drink of choice, even though I have no idea what her lips taste like.
I can’t kiss her.Ever.If I do, I will be so fucked.
Another firm knock comes from the door.
“Elliot,” Roxanne rushes out, her eyes going wide. “What do we do?”
She stares down at my cock, looking like she’s going to hyperventilate at the sight of it tenting my slacks.
“Oh my god,” she panics, lifting her arms and tangling her fingers in her hair.
“This looks so bad,” she whimpers while gasping for air.
“Listen to me,” I say sharply. I wait until her eyes meet mine to continue speaking.
“You are going to calm the fuck down and have a seat,” I say, pointing to the chair across from my desk.
“We’re having a meeting, that’s all,” I nod, trying to convince myself as well as her. “You’re my assistant. It’s perfectly normal to have a closed-door meeting to discuss private matters,” I add, mapping out our plan. “So sit down and control your breathing before you have a panic attack and give us both away.”
“Okay,” she nods frantically before smoothing her hands down her skirt and striding over the chair. She takes a seat, white-knuckling her fingers around the arms of the chair.
I inhale a deep breath, tucking my aching cock beneath the waistband of my slacks and walking toward the front of my office.
As soon as I swing the door open, I find Zion standing on the other side.
This motherfucker.
Always stopping by my office unannounced.
“What the hell, man,” he exhales, completely out of breath. “We need to leave like right now. You said you would be ready.”
I furrow my brows, bracing a hand on the doorframe.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“The hockey game,” he shouts. “My boss gave me two free tickets to see the Stars play the Islanders. I asked if you wanted to go weeks ago, Elliot.”
“Shit,” I huff out, rubbing my palms against my forehead. “I completely forgot about that. I was…I was just wrapping up a meeting with Roxanne.”
He narrows his eyes, tilting his head and looking at me suspiciously.
I purse my lips together and shake my head as if to say,“We’re not having this conversation right now.”
“Let me just grab my shit and lock up,” I say before Zion tries to put me on the spot. “I’ll be ready in two minutes.”
“You’re wearing that?” he asks, his eyes roaming down my suit.
“I don’t really have anything else, Zion,” I roll my eyes. “It’s this or nothing.”
