He gives his head a quick shake while his eyes narrow, shooting me a confused look. There’s so much happening behind his eyes, but he doesn’t say a word. He just glares at me until he chuckles so coldly that I feel the chill ripple down my spine.
He then turns around to close the office door as if seeking more privacy. Something about it makes the hair on my arms stand up. I feel the cold blade of apprehension press against my throat. Huxley turns back to face me, eyes hard.
“Or maybe I just knew you’d do something like that,” he grits out.
“Something like that?” I repeat under my breath.
I don’t even see the blinding anger coming; it just consumes me with no warning, like an old friend showing up unannounced.
“You know what?” My voice crescendoes, and I take a step toward him, my hands tightening into fists, nostrils flaring. “Fuck you.”
Huxley’s hard expression wavers for a split second, and I relish in it, stepping even closer.
“You never actually trusted me or even deigned to give methe benefit of the doubt. I’m sorry?!”—I level my hands with my shoulders and look around the office as if addressing an invisible audience—“Did we not have a breakthrough? Did we not share something that was actually fucking real? But as soon as there was awhiffof a threat,”—I stab him in the chest with two fingers—“you push me away without a second thought? Not just that but you go and fuck someone else?”
The hurt part of me hopes he’ll object. Tell me he never did such a thing. That it’s all in my head, but he only winces, lips sealed shut. My face is now inches from his, our eyes locked in a battle of wills. It only makes me more delirious with anger, so I go in for the kill.
“I guess you’re just like him, aren’t you?”
I don’t need to say his name for Huxley to know exactly who I’m referring to. His nose flares with a sharp inhale. We’re standing so close that I can feel his chest heave up and down as his cheeks turn red.
The silence that settles between us feels like falling into ice-cold water, painful and paralyzing. It’s so quiet in here that we both hear my phone start to buzz on the desk behind me. Huxley is the first to move, his eyes slicing down to look over my shoulder.
His reaction is almost imperceptible. I can barely make it out, but when his green eyes crash back into mine, I suddenly know who’s calling me.
God, of course.
That asshole’s timing has always been perfect.
Huxley’s voice is dangerously calm when he speaks.
“Answer the phone.”
At first, I don’t move, my mind racing. I know a dare when I hear one, especially coming from him. And the twisted part of me delights in it; the messy part of me that revels in this toxic back-and-forth cracks a smile, setting fire to my veins.
Huxley takes a step forward, making me stumble backward next to the desk.
“Pick. Up.”
I don’t break eye contact, and as soon as I reach for my phone, Huxley’s hands are on me. His warm, seeking lips are on the curve of my throat, his fingers opening the button of my jeans. I feel utterly pulverized by his touch, but I clear my throat and answer Oliver’s call.
“Hey,” I say as innocently as possible.
I hear Oliver’s voice answer, but I can barely think. Not while Huxley is pushing me against the desk, his deft fingers urgent and demanding as he slips his hand into my panties.
I concentrate just hard enough to hear Oliver say, “I’m heading to the airport, and I just wanted to call to tell you again how nice it was seeing you last night.”
Huxley isn’t being gentle when his fingers drag down my slit, pushing two fingers into me. No. He’s staking his claim. But I’m so fucking wet that I invite the rough intrusion with a small hitch of my breath and a hand against his nape to steady myself.
I quickly reply to Oliver before he thinks the call has dropped. “I had a nice time too, I love that place.”
I don’t even know what I’m fucking saying. Only that it’s riling Huxley up, and the urge to have him snap makes my mouth water. His free hand squeezes my breast, his body pushing me hard against the edge of the desk, making the legs screech on the floor. His fingers are soaked with my arousal as they pump hard into me while the heel of his palm grinds hard against my throbbing clit.
“Yeah,” Oliver says with a warm laugh. “I loved the company even more.”
I match his laugh, closing my eyes, but it sounds dangerously close to a breathy moan when it leaves my lips.
“When’s your flight?” I ask casually, trying to move the conversation along.
