Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
I didn’t speak to him for the rest of the morning. He’d left the office promptly thirty minutes before his appointment and barely looked at me on his way by.
I finished his To Do list in record time, mostly because I was fueled by anger and a touch of guilt. Acclimating Smoky to his new home had probably killed some of his sleeping. But his general stick-up-the-assery was enough to keep me from feeling too bad about it.
I was well into the L names before I flipped off my heels and ended up cross-legged on one of the executive chairs PMS had put in the room for me.
I’d moved on from my rage playlist to true crime. I was mentally knee deep in the horrific story of Willie Pickton when something white and gold landed in the center of the Lyle folder.
It rolled onto its side until the label for Preston’s caramel confection K-cup stared at me.
I looked up to find him looming over me, his knuckles resting on the table. His muscular forearms were tight with annoyance, the white sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and he’d lost his suit coat—leaving him only in that damn vest.
My nipples instantly tightened.
Damn traitors.
I flicked out my earbuds and the ladies from the Morbid podcast stopped talking.
He tipped his head, his dark eyes glittering. “What is that?”
I picked up the K-cup. “Columbian Coconut-Caramel blend,” I read aloud then set it in front of him.
“And why is it not at my coffee station?”
I laced my fingers on top of the file. “Not sure. I only had one in my pocket.”
“In your—”
I unearthed the warmer one that was still in the pocket of my dress. I’d actually forgot about it while I was working. “Look at that, now you have two. Okay, forty-eight if you want to get technical.” I gave him a brief smile.
He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, making his arms bulge with all those muscles that just didn’t compute for such a desk jockey.
“Maybe you should have one now, and it will put you in a better mood.” I frowned. “The box is under my desk—how did you get this one?”
“My brother chucked one at my head when we were arguing about who was going to take the Donnelly case.”
I winced. Mary Donnelly had been particularly vicious when she’d come in earlier in the week. “Your brother shouldn’t have been under my desk.”
Preston’s jaw flexed, and I was pretty sure he was going to crush his molars. “That is not the point. And why exactly aren’t you manning the phones?”
“Because I’m manning all this.” I gestured to the stacks of files before tapping the K-cup from my pocket. “Look, it was just a little fun. You were being all rude and PMS-y.”
“Would you cease and desist with that name?”
“It’s your name.”
“It is not.” He brushed the pods to the side and leaned over my table, his long fingers curling over the lip right in front of me. “Preston. Say it.”
My heartbeat thundered between my ears. Or was it my thighs?
His gaze never wavered even though I was pretty sure I was the definition of having heaving bosoms at the moment. I’d been perfectly comfortable ten minutes ago in the air conditioned room, and now my skin was dotted with a light sheen of sweat.
I swallowed and couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward. What was it about the alpha side of this man that made me all…stupid? There was no other word for it.
Our lips were an inch apart. “No.”
He shoved the table out of the way and I gasped. He stepped into the empty space and hauled me up into his arms.
Startled, I grabbed at his shoulders. God, he was so damn hot under the fine cotton and silk blend.
He swung me around and set me on the table. It didn’t put us on an even playing field. If anything, I was even more trapped. He stepped between my thighs, drawing his fingers gently under my knee to lift it up and around his hip.
“I’ll find a way to get you to say it.”
“I’ve used your name before.” I was pretty sure I didn’t always use his initials. But right now, my brain was a fog of lust and white noise.
He tipped me back a little so he had the upper hand. The placket of his trousers rubbed over the cotton panties I was wearing in deference to the inferno of heat outside. At this point, it was inside too.
So, we’d apparently reached the hot portion of the day’s agenda.
His fingers dug into my thigh as he widened my legs a little more to fit his hard shaft against the center of me. “You’re so fucking irritating,” he said against my lips.
I smiled. “You like it.” My gaze dropped to his mouth. The puff of cinnamon on his breath made my lips tingle. I braced myself on the table and didn’t touch him. I was certain if I did, I wouldn’t stop. “We’re at work, PMS.”
Poke the lion much, Ry?
Well, something was poking back. And I wanted it inside me, dammit.
“I don’t fucking care.” He slanted his lips over mine, his other hand at my lower back, dragging me closer until we were nearly conjoined.
His finery to my muslin.
His muscles to my softness.
His former resolution obliterating mine.
I hooked my knee higher on his hip, bringing the other one up to hold on for good measure. My fingers fumbled for his red tie and the buttons on his vest, but I couldn’t seem to get anything to work.
Finally, he leaned back and took care of both.
I couldn’t stop staring as his impressive shoulders seemed even larger as he dropped his tie into my chair and stripped off his vest.
My inertia dissolved at the first glimpse of his throat, then a sliver of toned belly as he jerked the tails of his shirt out of his pants. I tunneled my fingers under the fabric, my nails scraping his skin on the way up until I found his nipple.
He hissed and jerked at the tiny buttons on the front of my dress. “You have the most magnificent breasts on this planet.”
I laughed. “Let’s not go that far, pal.”
He pushed the material aside and cupped one with his long fingers, his thumb brushing over the tip that was trying to tear its way out of my lacy demi-cup. And those deliciously long fingers didn’t waste any time. He tugged down the half cup and then covered my nipple with his mouth.
I arched back and wished to hell this room was soundproofed. I’d been so damn wound up for so long that I didn’t know if I could keep quiet.
He sucked strongly on my nipple, letting it pop free only to blow on it and flick his tongue along the aching tip. He smiled at me, but it wasn’t a reassuring smile.
It was…wolfish.
I was prey.
And I wasn’t quite sure I was ready for any of this.
The urge to push him away and escape overwhelmed the pleasure for a moment. There was no going back after this.
No way that I could say it was just a fluke between us.
But maybe if we got this out of the way here, I could end the week and put all of this behind me. Put him behind me.
Because while it felt amazing right now, we didn’t fit. He’d probably go back to treating me like his pesky assistant as soon as the sweat dried.
Too bad I didn’t care.
His mouth raced over my skin as he peeled my dress apart. His nose pushed aside my amethyst crystal until the chain looped over my other breast. His teeth scraped down my belly to the elastic at the top of my panties.
He pulled it away and let it snap back, making me gasp from the quick bite of pain as he straightened.
I was literally splayed out over his files, my dress completely unbuttoned at this point. He undid his shirt and hauled it off, sending it flying.
Mercy. I dragged in a breath as I took him in.
I’d had my hands on him, but always over clothes. I’d never seen what was hiding under those proper suits and dress shirts. He was smooth save for a light bit of fur over his pecs and a line of hair above his belt.
He was endless golden skin with the kind of lean muscles that came from running or one of those home gym kinds of things. Honed from years of discipline. Because this man was nothing if not disciplined in every aspect of his life.
From his work ethic, to his responsibilities, I was pretty sure he’d never taken a lazy day on the couch to watch trash television and eat a pint of ice cream.
He stepped closer to me and pulled up my foot to rest on his chest as he lightly trailed his fingertips over my ankle bracelet. “Where did you go?”
I shook my head. “I was just thinking your responsible side is going to freak out right after we’re done here.”
“This is only the start, Miss Moon.” He used his foot to drag the chair up behind him as he sat down. He drew my ankle higher to his shoulder. “I love how tall you are.” He kissed his way down my inner thigh, opening me as he got closer. “How you smell.”
I fell back on my elbows. “This isn’t a good idea.”
He scooted forward and stretched me open. “Isn’t that my line?”
“Yes, why I’m trying to remind you…fuck.”
He tugged my panties aside and lightly licked over the skin just beside my slit. “Oh, yes. We’ll get to that, but first, we’ll have to see if I can get you to say my name.”
I dropped my head back. “Don’t bet on it.”
Then his mouth did all the talking for him as well as those very, very disciplined fingers. I stared at the ceiling tiles above us and tried to hold out.
I’d meditated away my fear through a tornado in Kansas when my mother left me in our van. I’d made it through that, I could make it through this.
He wouldn’t break me.
I let myself open to the pleasure. Relaxing my body by degrees and put the future in a box and shoved it at the back of my mind. Embrace the now.
Embrace the moment.
I arched off the table as he slipped two of those long fingers inside of me, stretching me and drinking from me. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see what he was doing.
If I didn’t let him in, I’d be okay.
“Ryan. Look at me.”
His deep, rough voice broke down the walls, obliterated the box. He stared up at me as he sealed his mouth around me, his tongue lightly pulsing against my clit as he thrust into me with his fingers.
I needed more than that.
I needed him.