CHAPTER 12 #3
"Miley, I’m gonna be honest with you," I said, my voice dropping into a quiet, serious cadence.
"Ciara has been trying to get see me outside of this office for years now.
But I have kept it strictly professional between us.
We had one incident... we were out in Las Vegas for a corporate convention two years ago, and I was a bit too drunk at the hotel lounge.
The music was loud, the drinks were free, and the pressure of this job was eating me alive.
We kissed one time in the back of the VIP booth.
But even with all that liquor in my system, I still had the wherewithal within me to pull back, tell her it was a mistake, and call it a night.
Since that night, we have never ever kissed again, but Ciara still tries to hit on me from time to time, trying to find a way back into my space. "
Miley listened quietly, her braids shifting over her shoulder as she let out a low, knowing grunt. "So... I guess she’s sitting out there thinking a bitch is competition now, huh? She thinks I'm trying to take her spot at the table."
"Something like that," I admitted, looking at the frosted glass door. "She sees how I look at you. She knows I don't give that kind of attention away to just anyone on this floor."
Miley’s face went tight, her dark eyes clouding over with that same heavy, toxic stress she had walked into the office with. The brief moment of humor vanished, replaced by a guarded, defensive wall that I hated seeing on her.
"Look, Helisa... I don’t wanna be caught up in no drama," Miley revealed, her voice cracking with a sudden, raw exhaustion that let me know she was already fighting a war on another front. "I already have tons of drama back home in my own apartment with people losing their minds over nothing. I am out here trying to clear my head, trying to make my money and move up, not get tangled up in some messy corporate love triangle. If Ciara is coming to this dinner tonight at your place, I don’t think I’ll be joining y'all.
I'll just skip the oxtail and stay out of the way. "
A sharp jolt of pure frustration hit my chest. I couldn't stand to see her pull back.
I couldn't stand the thought of her letting Ciara’s insecure, territorial energy dictate her movements or keep her away from me.
I had spent too much time thinking about her, too many hours replaying that kiss in the back of my Jeep, to let someone else's insecurity freeze her out.
I stood up from my executive chair, my heels clicking hard against the floorboards as I walked around the massive glass desk, stopping right in front of her chair.
"C'mon, Miley, where is your spine?" I demanded, my voice dropping low, fierce, and entirely filled with an intense, commanding passion.
I leaned down, my face inches from hers, looking straight into her dark eyes.
"Where is the fire I saw in your eyes yesterday? Don’t let Ciara scare you away from something good.
Don't let her run you off from my house before you even step through the door.
Unless... you just need a little more convincing to stay. "
Miley looked up at me, her breathing catching in her throat, her lips parting slightly as the proximity of my body sent an immediate, electric charge through the space between us. "Helisa... I'm just saying, I don't need the headache."
"I don't care about the headache," I whispered.
I didn't give her another second to calculate. I leaned all the way down, my hands catching her by the jaw, my fingers tangling into the thick roots of her box braids, and I seized Miley’s lips at once in a violent, heat-searing kiss.
Miley let out a sharp, ragged gasp against my mouth, but she didn't pull back.
The folders in her lap slid to the floor, the papers scattering across the rug, but neither of us gave a single fuck.
Her hands flew up, her long fingers clawing into the fabric of my navy blazer, dragging my weight down toward her as she kissed me back with a desperate, heavy hunger that matched the fire in my own chest. I drove my tongue deep past her teeth, completely losing myself in the familiar, intoxicating minty flavor of her mouth, holding her head firmly against the leather chair as the raw intensity of our connection turned the private office into an absolute furnace.
It wasn't an intern kiss; it was a territorial claim.
I pulled my lips back just an inch, our breaths mingling in the tight space, my eyes locking onto her dazed, completely wrecked expression. Her lips were wet, swollen, and her chest was heaving under her silk blouse.
"I promise you, no drama, Miley," I whispered over her wet lips, my voice trembling slightly with the weight of my own feelings. "We’ll just act normal out there on the floor, we'll enjoy the dinner tonight, and that’s it. I’ll talk with Ciara before the day ends and put a permanent stop to this behavior. Don’t worry about her, okay? Trust me to handle my office."
"Understood," Miley whispered back against my mouth, her eyes glazed over with pure pleasure as she pulled my face back down, kissing me once more with a lingering, sweet finality that felt like a signed contract.
***
I stood up straight, smoothing down the front of my blazer and adjusting the lines of my skirt, forcing my breathing to slow down before my composure completely crumbled. The heat in the room was palpable, the scent of her perfume and our mutual arousal hanging heavy in the air.
Miley reached down, her long fingers gathering the scattered papers from the rug, stacking them back into the manila folder with a slightly trembling hand. She stood up from the leather chair, her heels clicking against the floor as she took a deep, centering breath.
"You wanna talk about what’s bothering you back home?" I asked, still sensing that lingering, dark shadow of tension coming from her shoulders. "You walked in here looking like you wanted to set the world on fire, Miley. I know it wasn't just about the traffic."
"Nah, it’s my problem, Helisa. I’ll deal with it," Miley said, her voice returning to that guarded, independent Harlem tone as she stood up straight.
She reached down, adjusting her cleavage and straightening her black pencil skirt with a practiced, elegant motion as she took up the files.
"Let me get back to these files outside before Ciara comes pounding off your door and catches us looking like this.
We don't need to give her any more fuel for her little fire. "
I escorted her to the heavy door, my hand resting on the brass handle.
I pulled it open, letting Miley step out into the bright, open floor of the office.
The second she cleared the threshold, my eyes flew across the room—and at once, I caught Ciara’s gaze locked onto mine from her workstation.
Her eyes were narrow, her lips pressed into a thin, bitter line, her fingers frozen over her keyboard as she watched Miley walk back to her desk.
I closed the office door with a soft click, leaning my head against the wood as I let out a long, exhausted sigh that shook my chest.
"God, she can be so territorial at times," I whispered to the empty room, looking out at the sprawling, uncaring skyline through the glass. "But I’ll keep it cool. We’ll play it completely cool...
whatever happens between me and Miley Palmer stays between me and Miley Palmer.
I didn't work this hard to let a little drama pull me down. "