24. Catriona
Twenty Four
Catriona
“To get the O’Toole contract finished…” Rian pauses, taps his fingers on the conference table while he scans the members of his team until his gaze lands on me. “I will need you to work this weekend as well, Miss Taylor.”
That small sentence, and my heart rate spikes and heat pools between my legs. Somehow, I doubt the weekend work he’s hinting at has anything to do with the contract.
Things have changed since we had lunch together. We don’t pretend that nothing has happened between us anymore. Instead, Rian adds sexual comments or insinuations when we talk, and I bite back, but without the coldness.
Well, that’s what we do in private.
Right now, though, with Mona, Trevor and Linda at the conference table together with us, I respond with a steady, cold-as-ice voice. “Human Resources will have a fit when they find out about this.”
“Like I care about HR,” Rian drawls, sounding bored.
“Hiding behind your surname again, Mr Kearney?”
“Just you make sure you show up, or I’ll give you dealings with HR,” he threatens.
He places both palms flat on the table and stands.
“Right, time for lunch, everyone. Taylor – you stay. Talk me through the figures that you only skimmed over. I don’t want there to be any blatant mistakes by your hand. ”
I grit my teeth at his insult, yet those feelings that erupted earlier intensify, knowing we’ll be alone. Am I still fighting what is happening between us?
Rian holds the door for my colleagues. “Good work, everyone,” he praises. “Mona, let me know when you have that draft finished and I’ll look through it.”
“I will. Thanks, Rian.”
My boss turns to me, hand still on the frame, and feral intent in his stance.
I hold my breath, like prey caught in the headlights.
Disappointment pinches my gut when he strolls over, leaving the office door open.
The corner of his lip twitches. The bastard can read me like a book.
He stops behind me, leaning over my shoulder, closing me in between him and the table.
I clear my throat and shuffle through the papers in front of me.
“Um, what did you want to know?”
Warm breath hits my neck. “Just talk me through the figures,” he murmurs, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps.
I clear my throat again, hoping I make sense as I go through tables, but I struggle to keep a clear head. The air crackles.
“…and this is the – What are you doing?” I hiss, anxiously glancing towards the open door.
He’s tugging at my jacket, that I unbuttoned when sitting down.
“Ssssh,” he whispers and carefully pulls some more, parting the sides. “I want to see if your nipples are hard.”
I clamp my lips shut as I whimper. Jesus, Mary and the Holy Spirit!
If my nipples weren’t already hard, they definitely are now.
Sparks sizzle at the tips as they rub against my bra with my stuttered inhale.
Rian’s low chuckle is like petrol to a lit bonfire.
I squirm in the chair and press my legs together, acutely aware of his closeness. Fuck…he hasn’t even touched me!
“You’d better rest up the next couple of days. I have a lot for you to do this weekend…”
“Um…” That’s my intelligent response.
The heat disappears from my back.
“That would be all, Miss Taylor. Your dry sandwich is waiting for you.”
My gaze drops to the bulge in his trousers as he rounds his desk. I hurry out before I do something stupid. Like crawling and begging.
My sandwich is dry where it sits untouched in front of me. I’ve got no appetite. What I do have are some very wet panties. What the hell am I doing? Am I seriously contemplating having sex with Rian – my boss – this weekend? Our other incidences were never planned, but this…
Sex.
It would never be anything but sex between us. He would never want me for anything more. And I don’t want him for more either!
I have no romantic hopes of happily ever after.
I’m not my mother, who invested emotionally into a relationship with no future.
All I want is some physical satisfaction.
And Rian has, on several occasions, proven he can deliver just that, and to a much better standard than anyone else I’ve ever been with.
So that’s… That’s okay, isn’t it? No emotions. No motives. No incentives or rewards. Just…sex?
I clench my legs together as a new wave of heat bursts from my core.
Fuck, I’m going to do it. I’m going to have sex with my boss.