9. NICO
9
NICO
I stand in the middle of the empty spa and drag both hands through my hair. Fuck . This was supposed to be an opportunity for us to get on better terms. To repair this messed up connection we have going on.
I’m more riled than I’ve been in weeks. Kate Lansen has a way of getting under my skin. She’s like the tip of an expertly wielded needle, sliding unnoticed into a vein and emptying its poison into my bloodstream.
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, recalling my words to her.
I don’t want them. I want you.
What the fuck was I thinking? If she’d just done what anyone else would have done and had lunch with me, I wouldn’t have said something like that.
Our interaction has well and truly wiped out my appetite, and I’m not going to sit alone in the restaurant now that Kate has gone.
I stalk out of the hotel, my mind a blur. I get in my car and speed back to the office. Thank God my subconscious can drive because all I can think about is Kate. The Ice Queen. Not even a sauna and a massage could soften her up.
I don’t know why I bothered.
When I arrive at the office, I have almost no recollection of how I got there. I pace across reception in a fog of frustration, only to be waved down by Seb.
“Lunch didn’t go well, then?” He smirks, making me regret telling him I was taking Kate for lunch. Thank fuck I didn’t admit I’d booked her into the spa at the Elite.
I flip my middle finger at him as I pass. I wouldn’t normally brush him off like that, but if I stop to explain, he’ll only gloat, and I don’t have time for his bullshit.
I stride towards the reception desk without another look in his direction, Kate’s angry words rattling around in my mind like some bastardized form of torture. You think you can buy me? That you can get your wallet out and I’ll do exactly what you want?
Was that what I thought? Was that why I did it? I don’t fucking know anymore, because the moment those words sprang from her pink lips, the only thing I wanted to do was yell Yes, please .
I cannot focus around this woman at all .
I press my palms to my temples like I can force her out of my head.
Suddenly, I think of Charlie, and guilt hits hard. I’ve been so preoccupied with Kate that I haven’t checked to see if he’s okay on his first day. Maybe he’ll be more amenable to lunch than Kate was.
I take a deep breath, grip the knot of my tie, and force a smile to my face as I approach the reception desk. The receptionist grins up at me. “How can I help, Mr. Hawkston?”
“Can you tell me where my nephew Charlie is sitting?”
I wait as she checks, observing the steady slowing of my pulse rate. I’ll be all right in a moment.
“He’s on the sixth floor. Matt put him with the Lansen team. In fact, he’s opposite Kate Lansen.”
The universe must be messing with me right now. Of all the desks in the office, Matt had to put his son next to her.
Maybe she won’t be there. She said she had plans.
“Thanks,” I say, and head to take the lift to the sixth floor.
When I approach Charlie’s bank of desks, I see Kate immediately. She’s standing at her desk holding a Tupperware box and a set of cutlery.
This is her lunch plan? What the actual fuck? She’d rather eat out of a plastic box at her desk than sit with me?
Fury rises like a tidal wave, and I quicken my pace, noticing that people are stealing glances and hunkering down, pretending to be busier than they are.
Half of them are probably worried I’ll fire them on the spot. But I’m not a yeller. That’s more Matt’s style of management, not mine. Although right now I’m feeling pretty damn close to letting loose.
I ignore the flickering glances of other employees. Kate’s the only one that holds my attention.
As I get closer to her desk, she puts her lunch down and leans over to pick something up, presenting me with a view of her arse. It’s pert and perfect, and the skirt is tight, revealing the outline of her underwear beneath. I’m torn between wanting to fuck it or spank it for insubordination.
A shock of heat rushes to my cock.
Shit .
I did not come up here for this, but I keep moving towards her, unable to look away. With each step, my body temperature ratchets up a notch.
A choked gurgle of laughter distracts me. Charlie grins, his eyebrows arched like a McDonald’s logo. He bites his bottom lip and nods at Kate, where she’s still bent over, then looks at me like I’m a horny teenager who shares his amusement.
I glare at him, and the venom behind it is enough to wipe his expression clean. I’ll address his lack of office decorum over lunch. That’s something we have to stamp out.
“Lunch?” I question.
When Kate sees me, her face flashes with anger. “Were you not listening—”
“I was talking to Charlie.” My voice is edged like a knife as I deliberately glare at the Tupperware box on her desk. “My plans fell through, so I’m taking him to lunch.”
“Oh, brilliant.” Charlie raises his voice so no one in the vicinity could fail to notice the preferential treatment he’s getting. Now that’s the type of response I’m used to. It’s the most animated I’ve seen him.
Kate sits down, a tight smile on her face, and clicks open her Tupperware box. I can’t fucking believe it. She’s so brazen. I’m standing right here, and she’s not even pretending to have plans.
She removes the lid, exposing the contents. Some kind of brown mulch with limp green leaves mixed through it. Revolting .
She gathers a forkful and slides it between lips parted so wide they could take my cock. She chews, then swallows, and her throat bobs exaggeratedly with the motion.
She might not be looking my way, but I’d wager my entire fortune on the fact that her awareness is fixed on me. Her tongue, her lips, her over-exaggerated swallow; it’s all a performance for my benefit.
Anger simmers in my blood. She’s taunting me with the contents of that plastic piece of shit like it’s a lover.
Or am I so far gone for the woman already that I’m seeing sexual suggestion where there is none?
Images of Kate on her knees, taking my cock down her throat, invade my mind as heat lasers through my chest.
So much for clearing the air. There’s a storm waiting to break, and there’s only one way I want it to happen: with Kate Lansen wearing a lot fewer clothes than she is right now.
But first I’m going to burn that plastic box until it’s a melted heap of toxic waste.
I run a finger inside my collar, which suddenly feels far too tight. Kate catches me, turning those big, honey-brown eyes up to look at me.
“Something wrong?” she asks.
I gnash my molars and let my eyes shut briefly. “No.”
“Good.” She fills another forkful with food, her tongue curling out to wrap around the tines as she slowly takes the whole thing into her mouth. She hums a sensual mmm-delicious noise and looks up at me, her eyes wide.
Fuck this . I’m not imagining it. She’s practically orgasming over her Tupperware, and the sound has my cock hardening. A powerful flash of rage burns through me.
Ignoring me entirely, she pushes the Tupperware aside to type out a response to an email.
The repulsive mixture stares up at me, the Tupperware hanging off the edge of her desk, and all I want to do is launch the whole fucking thing across the office.
I need to get out of here. I can hardly see straight. Putting my hand on Charlie’s shoulder, I guide him towards the lift, but my irritation hasn’t subsided as I pass Kate’s desk. My hip knocks against the corner of the Tupperware, toppling the whole thing into the bin. It lands with a thunk in a perfect drop shot.
I’m not even fucking sorry.
Kate gasps, and Charlie stares into the bin. “Geez, Uncle Nico—”
I elbow him in the ribs, cutting him off, but people are already staring.
Kate glares at me, her cheeks flaring. “My lunch—”
“How unfortunate.” My voice is devoid of emotion. “I know that was an important meal.” I take my wallet from my pocket, flip it open, and pull out a fifty, which I deposit on Kate’s desk. “Buy yourself something else.”
Charlie’s eyes are saucers as I usher him away from Kate before she can start yelling again.
I can’t come back down here. I do not need this sort of distraction in my life. No matter how thrilling Kate’s presence might be, the sixth floor is going to have to become my personal no-fly zone. Kate Lansen is off limits, and I need to do some fucking work.