His tone and words had her melting and turning into a puddle. With a helpless moan, she obeyed, her tongue diving into his mouth. He went mad. With a tortured groan, he wrapped his hands around her waist and took them deeper, until they were both lost in the swirl and clinging to each other.
They lost track of time as the kiss went on and the passion escalated.
"Jesus Christ!" His voice was ragged. He eased her away from him and tried to compose himself. It took several minutes to bring his breathing under control. His desire for her was monstrous and overpowering. "Go," he whispered harshly. "And call down to the finance department. Tell them I need a few more minutes."
When she hesitated, he gave her an impatient look. "Please. If you don't leave now, I won't be responsible for what happens next."
She fled on trembling legs. Waiting until she had closed the doors, he took a few seconds before marching over to the cabinet. Pressing the button, he grabbed the bottle of scotch and poured two fingers into a glass and took a healthy sip.
The burning from his throat to his gut did nothing to quell the raging desire going on and he took another sip and tried to quiet his heart. This was getting ridiculous, he thought furiously. Taking the glass with him, he went to stare out the window, a frown creasing his brow. He could not concentrate on anything for thinking of her. She was on his mind every goddamned minute of the day.
He wanted her constantly. And felt like a schoolboy with his first crush. He had never been that boy. In fact, he had never been young, he recalled bitterly. Growing up, his main task in life was to escape his mother's drunken and heavy hands.
Girls were the last thing on his mind. It wasn't until he was in his twenties that he started fooling around and then it had been withprostitutes. Tossing back the drink to get rid of the bitterness, he realized he had not told her anything about himself.
And if they were going to be a couple... the thought skidded through his mind and had him stumbling back.
He wanted to marry her. A derisive laugh escaped him. After avoiding the trap of matrimony, he was contemplating it. More than that, he was relishing it, eager to make her his. He wanted her. The woman was like a fever in his blood, and he could not get enough of her.
Finishing the drink, he turned towards the desk and went to answer the intercom.
"They're waiting for you."
"I think I'm ready. I'm assuming you brought some clothing with you?"
"Why would I do that?"
"Stop playing games with me, Courtney."
"I don't appreciate your tone."
He hung up from her. Grabbing his files, he marched towards the doors and flung them open, ready for battle. "You're coming home with me. I suggest you take some time to go home and grab clothing you want to wear for the morning."
Her tapered brows lifted as she looked up from her typing. "I did not hear a request in that sentence. You might be my boss, but you're not my father. In fact, I don't know who my father is, you should know that right now."
"Since we're discussing paternity, my old man left when I was barely out of diapers. But that's neither here nor there." He was pissed with her, but mostly with himself. He had allowed her to have power over him, and he did not like it one bit.
"You're coming home with me tonight and spending the night. I'm not asking."
"You think because we have sex..."
She edged back in the chair as he took several threatening steps towards her. "You don't want to test me. Not now." His voice was dangerously soft. "You will not win." His gold eyes were molten dark with temper. "I cannot get enough of you, and I don't intend to spend a night without you."
"Go home and pack a bag, Courtney, or run the chance of coming here tomorrow morning wearing the same outfit. Your choice." Without another word, he turned on his heels and walked out, leaving her fuming.
The nerve of the man! Shoving from the desk, she grabbed a file at random and pulled open the steel file cabinet. She was leafing through the files when she heard someone behind her. Thinking it was him coming back for round two, she whirled, dark eyes glittering.
"Whoa there!" Donald held up his hands and approached the rest of the way cautiously. "Whatever you heard, I did not do it."
"I'm sorry." She suddenly felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. Dropping into the chair, she took a deep breath.
"Does your mood have anything to do with our esteemed boss?" He sat on the edge of her desk. "I mentioned something to him, and he almost bit my head off. What's up with him?"
She almost blurted out that she was the cause of his fury. Although what he was so angry about was beyond her.
"The usual."
"He pissed you off."
