Life without tragedy.
I snorted.
Van Gogh and I were both well aware that’s something that doesn’t fucking exist.
INDIE
If you’d asked me that morning how I expected my first meeting with my new boss to go, being mauled upon entering his office would not have been at the top of the list—or on the list at all.
It was a surprisingly tender and passionate kiss, catching me completely off guard with its intensity.
Catching me completely off guard in general, because it shouldn’t be happening.
Despite that—I couldn’t resist the urge to deepen it, losing myself in the moment and forgetting my reason for being there.
It was... very inappropriate because this was my new boss.
Or at least, I thought it was considering he was in my old boss’s office, sitting behind the desk like he belonged there… before the attack, that is.
Yet, the feel of his hand curling around the nape of my neck sent a shiver down my spine and I melted into him.
It was a good kiss, however unexpected, and I couldn’t find it within myself to pull away.
Because it washim.
My whole reason for being here.
There was a moment in which he pulled away from me, coming up for air, that I wascertainI heard him breathe, “Iris,” before diving back in.
Iris?
Shit.
I was having a difficult time deciding whether the universe was conspiringforme oragainstme to bring me to this moment in my life.
And then he lifted me (far too easily) and sat me on the desk, and settled himself between my thighs…
Conspiringfor. For sure.
Wait. No.
I pulled away from his lips, my hand gently pushing against his chest as I slid off the edge of the desk. My feet hit the floor with a soft thud as I attempted to regain my bearings.
“Christ. I’m sorry, I just…how are you here?What—” He was at a loss for words.
Me too, buddy.
I steeled myself and pointed a finger at my chest. “Indie.”
Me Tarzan, you Jane.How charming.
His eyes widened and his mouth fell open a fraction, recognizing the name from our email correspondence—recognizing thatIwas his new employee.
He pinched the bridge of his glasses, causing them to slide down his nose, before removing them completely and placing them carefully on the corner of the cluttered desk. “Amazing. I’ve committed sexual assault on my second day on the job. I’ll have Amelia file the paperwork.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, disbelieving.
He took a step toward the door. He was serious.
“Kiernan.” It was strange to finally attach the name to a face. Tohisface.
