He stopped and did an immediate one-eighty, so she bumped into him.
“I’d like to show you my gratitude…” He locked eyes with her. “For keeping the dogs away from my throat.”
Her sharp intake of breath made him grin. His gaze dropped to her dainty fingertips pressing against her lips to hide her flirty little smile.
“You could kiss me,” she whispered.
His thumb brushed across her jaw, testing the pulse beneath her skin, and he saw the flicker of desire behind her eyes.
Mentally, he gave himself a small pat on the back.
He hummed low; the sound vibrating in his chest. “I don’t make a habit of kissing my employees.”
“I need this job.” She blinked wildly. “So I promise it would be our secret.”
Jamie exhaled through his nose and leaned in just enough for his lips to graze the shell of her ear, his breath warm against her skin.
“I wouldn’t fire you, Tabitha. I mean, it’s not like you’re going to get all clingy and follow me to the fucking toilet, right?” He bit back the urge to mess her hair up in his fist. “We’re grown-ups, yeah?”
The way her throat bobbed when she swallowedtold him everything he needed to know. Her silky hair shifted as she nodded.
“The room behind us is unoccupied.” She pushed open the door to an empty boardroom.
Jamie ushered her backward with his body, letting the door shut behind them.
He crooked a finger, a silent command. “Get over here.”
In two quick strides, Tabitha’s hands were on his chest, her lips crashing against his. His hand settled on her ass, his grip firm, while the other hand threaded through the neat strands of her hair at the nape.
He wanted it tousled, to rough it up like the barista’s wild, untamed hair.
With a forceful nudge, her shoulders hit the wall. He slid his hand over her hips, popping the stiff buttons of her jacket open.
His other hand drifted to the curve of her throat, fingers curling around her neck with just enough pressure to make her pulse thrum even faster.
Bracing one hand on the wall beside her head, Jamie tilted her chin up, his thumb firm beneath her jaw, commanding her attention.
“You ready?” he murmured, dragging his tongue over her lips.
“Yes,” she breathed, her voice thin and aching, trembling beneath his hold.
When Tabitha reached for his zipper, fumbling with needy, desperate fingers, a low growl builtin his chest. The fabric shifted, the pressure welcome, but her touch was a liberty he hadn’t given.
He seized her wrist, pinning it high above her head against the wall, his grip unyielding. “Did I say you could touch me?”
She stilled under the weight of his dominance, her pupils blown wide, lips parted in a silent plea.
“Good girl,” he murmured darkly, bending just enough to brush his lips over the shell of her ear. “But we do this on my terms.”
Marcus’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, a reminder of boundaries, of business, of timing, but Jamie’s dick was straining, throbbing behind his zipper, demanding attention it wasn’t going to get. Not yet.
He stepped back, but not far enough to give her relief. Instead, his voice dropped to a rough, controlled rumble. “Lift up your skirt.”
She obeyed, breath hitching as she spread her legs for him, exposing lace and damp heat.
He took his time trailing fingers up her thigh, teasing the edge of her panties with a swipe, brushing over the soaked fabric with just enough pressure to make her hips jerk, not enough to satisfy.
“So wet,” he muttered. “Fuck, you’re greedy for it, aren’t you?”
