15. Cooper
FIFTEEN
Cooper
W hat in the actual fuck is going on? Have I walked into the Twilight Zone ? I’ve got a blonde haired Jessica fucking Rabbit working for me now, apparently.
I’ll admit, Meghan looks amazing, she’s got her curves, that dip in all the right places, on full display and a confidence I haven’t seen in her since the Christmas party—and I’m certain that confidence was down to the alcohol.
I felt her before I saw her and because I wasn’t expecting her to look the way she does. It took me a moment to realize the stunner in the red dress was her.
From my position across the office, I’ve watched her flirt with an associate and by the way my body is now tightly wound and my fingers are digging into the palms of my clenched fists, I’m going to say I don’t fucking like it .
I might actually need to fire this guy, which I’m not entirely adverse to doing.
Breaking eye contact with me, Meghan turns to the guy, a sultry smile spreading across her luscious lips as she says something to him before walking away.
Her voluptuous hips sway from left to right in a mesmerizing motion, and I catch myself staring at her ass as she makes her way back to her desk. With great effort—because I don’t need to get hard standing in the middle of the office—I tear my gaze away from her.
Rubbing my hand over the back of my neck to relieve some of the tension I feel building, I think of anything to rid my mind of images of me bending her over her desk and fucking her until she screams my name for the world to hear.
It’s going to be a long day.
Shaking my head brings me back into the room, which is abuzz with people chattering and the eyes of nearly every male staring at the hypnotic sway of her hips. I cough to draw their attention away from what’s mine—even if she isn’t, really.
Well, she is my assistant, so they shouldn’t look for that reason alone, right?
When Meghan’s out of sight, I follow in her wake back to my office. As I walk toward her, my eyes greedily roam over her. It doesn’t escape my attention that she’s covered the marks I made on her with make-up. You wouldn’t be able to see them unless you knew to look for them .
An overwhelming urge to drag her to a bathroom and make her wash it off rushes through me, causing my steps to falter.
Walking past her, I don’t utter a single word or acknowledge her presence.
I need to get myself together before I rip that dress off of her and fuck her in the middle of the office. Then they’d all know she’s mine.
I’m supposed to be forgetting about our indiscretions but how can I do that when she’s taunting me with her body?
What game is she playing?
Sitting at my desk, I stare out the window, not seeing a thing. My leg bounces, my still clenched fist atop it, as I try to calm my restless energy. I know my mind won’t be able to focus with her out there.
So close, yet so far.
Men have been crawling out of the woodwork all morning coming to talk to my assistant.
Seriously, where the hell are they all coming from?
We rarely have visitors to our end of the floor, and if we do, it’s always with an appointment. Not once has she buzzed through on the intercom to tell me someone needs something from me.
I’m certain they’re social visitors for her and, let’s be honest, who can blame them? She was beautiful before, but now… now she’s a damn knockout and it’s not just her body—her confidence is shining through.
The same guy from the kitchen is now sitting on the edge of Meghan’s desk. It’s his second visit of the day and it’s only two in the afternoon.
I swear I’m not spying on her.
She’s beaming up at him, as if he’s the most riveting man she has ever laid eyes on.
I can barely contain this feeling inside of me that is trying to claw its way out of my chest. When her hand rests on his thigh and she leans forward, letting out a laugh, my own hand reaches out of its own accord and presses the intercom button on my desk phone, buzzing through to her.
“Meghan,” I growl when she connects the call.
Her eyes dart to mine through the glass window, the surprise at my tone quickly hidden away, before she holds my gaze as she speaks.
Where’s the woman who avoided making eye contact with me?
“Yes, Mr. Jackson ?” she asks, her voice comes out breathy, making my cock twitch and my jaw clench at the same time. I shift uncomfortably in my seat as I try to control my libido.
“Can you come here, please?”
“Why?” she asks.
“Because it’s your damn job,” I grind out through gritted teeth.
The jackass sitting on her desk is gazing down at the cleavage she has on display, and it takes all of my self-control to not call him in and fire him on the spot.
“Of course. Coming right now, sir .”
And then she fucking salutes at me through the window, one corner of her kissable mouth lifting as she does. I watch as she puts the phone down and turns back to the associate. I think his name’s Arthur or Alfred, something like that.
It doesn’t fucking matter.
She smiles at him as if she’s been completely oblivious to his lecherous staring. An irrational part of me wants to go out there and destroy him, because her smiles should only be directed at me. He stands with her and as she walks to my office, his gaze doesn’t leave her ass.
“How can I help you?” she asks, coming to a stop in the middle of my office.
Rounding my desk, I stalk toward her, unable to halt my movements and not caring if someone might see us. My hands lift to cup her face and I bend my head to capture her mouth, grazing my lips over hers.
Even the lightest touch feels like heaven.
Moving my hands down to her waist, she brings hers up and I feel the pressure of her pushing against my chest.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hisses at me, her eyes darting to the door.
“I’m kissing you. What does it look like?”
Folding her arms across her chest, she levels her stare at me. “Without my permission. You called me in here, for what reason exactly? To kiss me? To humiliate me one more time?”
“I didn’t call you in here for that.”
“Then why?” she practically shouts.
“Meghan, watch your tone.”
“Or what, you’ll write me up? Jesus Christ, Cooper.” She tears her gaze away from me as she looks out of the window. Her jaw is clenched and she’s furiously blinking.
Why do I keep fucking this up?
“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t seem to help myself when I’m around you.”
“Well, you’re going to have to. Whatever this is won’t be happening anymore.”
Running a hand through my hair in frustration, I turn away from her and walk to the chairs in front of my desk, gesturing for her to take a seat. “Please, can we just talk about this?”