The Mistake #3
“She’s staying at her parents’ house tonight.
She’ll be back tomorrow.” She closed the door behind him and walked with him to the living room.
“What’s so important?” she asked irritably.
“Because unless you’re here to tell me that you’ve decided to give me a percentage of the thirty million I saved you as a bonus, anything else can wait ’til Monday. ”
“Well…a bonus is in order…but I…just came by…to…to say thank you.”
“Thank you? Really? Thank you?”
Her scathing tone didn’t go unnoticed. “You’re upset.”
“Of course, I’m upset! Let’s just recall the events, shall we?”
He wasn’t really keen to recall anything, but the expression on her face told him it would be dangerous not to hear her out.
“You rope me into this two days before we have to make the presentation and I worked my ass off to get it to you on time.”
She turned on her heel, marched past the kitchen and down the corridor.
“Where are you going?” he shouted.
“To change into my pajamas.” She returned without the bunny slippers. “Because as soon as I say what I need to say, you’re going to leave and I’m going to bed.”
He nodded his agreement and she continued with the one-sided argument.
“So I get everything done for you, right down to the last PowerPoint slide and all I asked was that you show up at seven o’ clock.
” She started unbuttoning her shirt and he had to force himself to keep listening to what she was saying.
“But you don’t show up at seven o’ clock and you don’t even bother to call me and tell me that you’re going to be late.
” She walked back down the corridor, talking louder so he could still hear her.
“So I’m sitting there, panicking like an idiot and when you do finally decide to make an appearance, you and Matthew drop this fucking bomb on me! ”
“Language,” he muttered to himself.
She returned in a different state of undress. The white shirt was gone and a thin, white lace camisole was left behind, one that exposed every feminine part of her in a very flattering way. His eyes caressed the soft contours of her shoulders before moving slightly lower.
Focus, Tyler.
“And even though you knew that I had never done anything like that before, you didn’t help me once. Alex Partridge was spitting venom at me and you did nothing. You didn’t stand up for me.”
Tyler forced the thoughts of her supple breasts trapped beneath the white camisole out of his head and allowed his eyes to move up to meet her livid scowl. “Jordan, standing up for you would’ve made him think you’re weak and you’re not. I knew you could handle him.”
“Okay, and when Timothy asked me for the counter-offer? You said nothing.”
“When I said I trusted you…I meant it.”
She faltered for only a second before she came back fighting. “And after the meeting? You still said nothing. That’s when your thank-you would have counted.” She stormed out of the living room and down the corridor again.
“What do you want me to say?” he shouted so she could hear him in her bedroom. “You want me to say you did a good job? Fine. You did a good job.”
She returned as fast as she had left but now her camisole and bra were gone and replaced with a baby blue pajama top, which in her anger, she had neglected to button up.
She had also unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans.
His eyes skimmed over the vertical length of her slightly exposed skin, from navel to collar bone, and suddenly keeping up with this conversation was harder than it was two minutes ago.
“I did a great job,” she hissed. “But instead of acknowledging that, you speak down to me in front of Timothy Coldwell and tell me to get back to work! Then you come to my house, unannounced, at eleven o’ clock at night, wake me up from sleep I so desperately need and then…
and then to top it all off…you’re staring at my breasts again. ”
He threw his hands up. “How do you expect me not to look?!”
He swiftly closed the gap between them, grabbed both sides of her pajama top, and began buttoning it up. She lifted her head a fraction to look at him. Her cheeks were still flushed with anger, but she had stopped talking now.
“You were amazing today,” he whispered.
Still she said nothing, drawing in a slightly shaky breath as he continued with her buttons. His hands moved lower. Gripping her zipper, he slowly zipped up her jeans. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband, taking hold of either side to fasten the button.
Okay, Tyler. Now back away.
But he couldn’t do it because as his fingers traced over the soft skin of her abdomen, all he wanted to do was undo what he had just done.
Don’t kiss her. Just back away.
It was impossible to listen to his own thoughts when her head was tilted up towards his and her slightly parted lips looked so inviting. She made no attempt to move either. She simply stared at him with those pretty eyes, making him want things he had no business wanting.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. A welcomed interruption, yet he still didn’t remove his fingers from the waistband of her jeans.
“You should get that,” she said softly.
Yes, it was the perfect way to end this whole thing and completely avoid any awkwardness. Just say yes, Tyler. Just say: Yes, I should get that. It could be important. And then that’ll be the end of it.
“I have voicemail,” he responded.
You idiot!
Her eyes were focused on his mouth, wanting, craving. It was at this point that he felt his self-control grow wings and flutter away. She nipped her lower lip with her teeth, debating something with herself for a few seconds before her arms slipped around his neck to pull him closer.
Don’t do it! Don’t do it!
But then her lips were on his; sweet, soft and delicious…like malva pudding.
Pull back! Pull back! Retreat! Retreat! I’m kissing Jordan. Why am I kissing Jordan? This is bad. This is bad. This is so so…amazing.
Her tongue moved into his mouth and he felt her teeth graze his lower lip. His one hand moved around her waist to secure her against him. The other moved up and was soon buried in her thick, untidy mop of hair, keeping her soft mouth locked on his.
I need to stop. I need to pull back and…keep kissing her.
He gripped her tighter, the warmth of her body seeping through his shirt. She was the perfect height. Kissing her was absolutely effortless. It was almost like her slender body was molded to fit seamlessly along the length of his.
Her kiss was becoming more demanding, her breathing quickening in time with his.
A small moan echoed in her throat and his body’s reaction made it very clear that this kiss was in no way professional.
When making inappropriate visits to employees in the middle of the night, the word professional could still be used to describe a kiss (albeit loosely).
But once a hard-on was involved, the word ceased to exist.
I don’t want this. I don’t want her…God, I want her so bad.
Three determined steps later, this sexy mess of a woman was sandwiched between him and the living room wall – big, round, perky breasts of awesomeness pressing against him.
What the hell am I doing? Oh, yeah…the exact opposite of pulling away!
One leg came up and around his waist, begging his hand for attention. Disobedient hand gave in without a fight.
Don’t squeeze her ass. Don’t squeeze her ass…Oh, my God! I am squeezing her ass! It fits my hand so perfectly. Yeah, this body was molded for mine.
His mouth was ravenous on hers now, his fingers tightening over the curve of her ass.
I shouldn’t be squeezing her ass. I shouldn’t be enjoying it…It’s okay. It’s fine. Touching of this nature is also considered to be professional…as long as there is no touching in and around the general pants area. That was definitely a rule somewhere in the employee handbook.
His mouth slipped down her neck, lightly nipping her tender flesh.
He took a second to just appreciate that, her cinnamon-vanilla scent, the soft gasps against his ear.
Entwining her fingers in his hair, she brought his mouth back up to hers.
Eager and hasty, he couldn’t get enough of her.
His hands were becoming impatient. He knew she had nothing beneath her pajama top and it was a genuine struggle to keep them from sliding up her bare skin.
End it. End it now! It’s easy. Just move away…but she smells so good…I wanna lose myself in—Stop it! This is ludicrous! I shouldn’t be kissing Jordan. She’s so soft…Maybe just a little bit longer…a lot longer…What about Trisha?!
Tyler abruptly ended the kiss and took a few steps back. He was shocked, stunned, incredibly turned on. “Uh…wow….okay…okay…well, that was…unexpected… wow, you…you kissed me.”
She stood there for a moment or two, her breathing as ragged as his. “You kissed me back. A lot.”
Her height made those lips way too accessible and all he wanted to do was take possession of them again, his body hungry for more. There was a very small gap between them and he found his feet moving back to her without him giving the instruction.
“Well, we shouldn’t…this shouldn’t have…I should go.” But then his lips were gravitating towards hers, like there was a magnetic force between them. “No…Stop…I need to go.”
She said nothing, did nothing except stare at him with wide eyes of confusion.
His left leg shifted back, but his right leg was not so co-operative, staying firmly in one place.
Again he caught himself leaning in for another kiss and quickly twisted his head in the other direction.
He placed his hand over his mouth as an attempt to stop the temptation, a frustrated groan rumbling in his throat.
“You…mmm…you really need to do something about those lips,” he said from behind his hand.
Her eyebrows wrinkled. “Like…take them off my face?”
“Yes…No…God…Dammit…You’re so…tall!”
“What?”
“I have to go.” He moved to the door as fast as he could and left without saying another word.
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