No matter how much we both wanted it. Not that I would ever admit that to him.
He quirked an eyebrow, still waiting for me to speak.
“So…” I trailed off.
“So?”
“About the other day,” I continued.
“What about it?”
“The…” God I hated how anxious I was about this. Especially because the day we’d spent together hadn’t made me anxious at all. He wassoeasy to be around. It was… comfortable with him.
“Kiss?” he prompted.
I cringed.
“Indie. It’s fine. I was just trying to help.” Something about the way he said that and the look on his face told me that didn’t ring entirely true. “It won’t happen again.”
He didn’t want that. I could tell. He was just saying what he knew I wanted him to say.
I felt squirmy. The way he looked at me… like he might devour me whole. “Good,” I said. “Great, even.” I stood. “I’ll just… go.”
Wow. We really talked that out. So much talking. Expert-level chat.
Standing had put us toe to toe and he looked down at me as if he could read my mind. As if he knew I didn’t want to go. As if he knew I didn’t want to draw this box around myself in the name of professionalism.
“Wait,” he growled. His long fingers gently wrapped around my wrist, that small gesture threatening to unravel my barely there resolve.
He pulled me against him and turned our bodies so I was caged in against the side of his desk, his arms on either side of me.
“It won’t happen again,” he repeated. He ran his nose along my temple, his minty breath feathering over my cheek. He pulled back, gazing down at me. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t want it.”
My breath hitched. “I…”
“That you don’t want me.”
“Wecan’t, Kiernan.”
“Give me one good reason.”
“You’re myboss.” That reasoning felt weak with his body this close to mine.
“And?”
“What if it all goes wrong? I can’t lose this job.”
“What if it all goes right?” he asked, wrapping one hand around my waist, and pulling me closer.
His fingers ghosted up my back, then threaded through my hair, his other hand kneading my hip. I wanted him to squeezeso hard that it would leave a mark, evidence that his hands had been on my body. The clean, masculine scent of him seeped into my pores and suddenly all of my reservations disintegrated into nothing.
I couldn’t think of a single good reason why I shouldn’t beg this man to fuck me right here, and ifheaskedme, there would be no part of me that could say no.
I wanted him inside me more than I wanted my next breath.
Fuck this job and anything else that might stand in the way of the two of us coming together in all the ways we both so desperately wanted.
His hand slid up my side, stopping at the edge of my breast, his thumb running along the underside of it. “Tell me you don’t want me, Indie.” He seemed like he couldn’t help but want to touch every part of me. “Tell me to stop. Tell me to take my hands off of you right now and I swear I’ll never touch you again.”
