Chapter 3
3
Emily
H is fingers curled tighter around the bottle for a second before he gave another of those abrupt nods. “We should christen this. Will you join me for a drink?”
“Sure,” I responded, surreptitiously rubbing my damp palms on my skirt.
He turned and started to walk towards the liquor cabinet but then paused at his desk. Leaning over, he hit the intercom. “Lauren?”
“Yes, Mr. Knight,” his PA answered.
“Clear my calendar for the rest of the day.” He paused, his eyes lingering on me. “And tomorrow morning. I'll be in around lunchtime.”
“Oh,” the surprised PA started, “Okay?—”
“And you can go ahead and take the afternoon off too.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll…see you tomorrow then.”
He lifted his finger off the button and carried on toward the liquor cabinet. I heard him crack open the bottle and pour two shots into the glasses.
He turned.
Sunshine slashed onto him, highlighting his every breathtaking feature.
I had long ago given up on deciding which part of Fletcher Knight thrilled me the most.
His brain, definitely.
But the outer package was insanely hot too. His hands. His eyes.
His mouth. Dear God, his mouth .
I realized I was staring at it as he slowly walked back to me, but for the life of me I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I abstractly registered that he had placed the glass in my hand, that I’d raised it a fraction so he could clink his against it.
But my eyes never left his face.
Not when he slowly lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, his eyes boring into mine. Not when he nudged his chin at my glass and like an automaton, I too sipped my drink, felt the wash of warmth tunnel through me, to add to the crazy hot sensations sizzling my insides.
“What shall we drink to?” he drawled, his voice barely audible.
“It's your celebration. You should say what you want,” I responded.
A slow husky laugh left his lips. “I should, shouldn't I? But then I will get into all sorts of trouble if I do.”
My heart lurched steeply, before sprinting around my chest. “Why? Is it a bad wish?” I whispered.
His eyes turned molten. “So very, very bad and yet I want it so very much,” he said.
I stepped closer to the fire. “Say it anyway. I think you probably get a pass today of all days.”
His eyes searched my face almost frantically. “Today maybe. But what about all the days that follow when I want to keep doing the bad thing?”
I couldn't breathe, my every sense hung on to his every word. Because we were back to speaking in deep subtext again with the feral look in his eyes telling me those very, very bad things involved me. Please, God.
“Maybe you will be given passes then too.”
He shook his head, a mutinous light gleaming at the back of his eyes. “What if I want—” He stopped as the phone on his desk rang. Lips pursed in annoyance, he took two long strides and snatched it up. “Yes?”
My breath froze as he listened for a moment, his fingers tightening around the phone.
“It's done? You're sure?” Silence throbbed as he listened and then he inhaled. With brisk movements he opened his laptop, clicked a few keys and exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping for a moment. “Yes, I have it,” he said with a hoarse voice. “Thanks. I owe you big, my friend.”
He slammed the phone down and his head snapped towards me. My breath strangled in my lungs at the look in his eyes.
Every time I’d imagined how this moment would play out—and I had imagined a lot —there’d always been a little kernel of doubt as to whether I would succeed in gaining Fletcher Knight’s attention.
Whether I was deluding myself in this mad crush I had on my boss.
No more.
The look in his eyes would have sent me jumping back if I wasn't already tucked up against the glass window.
The drink shook in my hand as he slowly prowled back towards me. The glass he’d set down on his desk was forgotten as he reached me and lifted his arms to flatten his palms against the glass, caging me in.
“I am officially divorced, Emily,” he breathed.
“Then I guess it’s congratulations again.”
He didn’t respond, his eyes briefly dropped to the glass in my hand before he reached for it, tugging it out of my weak hold and setting it on his desk. Then he resumed his position.
“Do you know how long I've waited for this moment?”
“I…think I have an idea,” I said, a little too breathlessly.
That slow, sexy laugh came again but this time with a slightly bitter edge. “No, baby. I’m one hundred percent sure you have no fucking idea.”
Baby .
My insides flipped over at that husky endearment, the fever in my blood rising up another notch as he leaned in even closer.
“I have watched you, craved you, obsessed over you, lost sleep over you. Every breath you take, every flicker of these beautiful eyes, every word that drops from these sexy lips, I have wanted to earn and own, Emily.”
The fervency throbbing beneath his confession made me want to scream in delight then beg him to take me. Now . But I forced myself to remain still. Remain patient.
Hours, weeks, months had led to this.
If I was lucky enough, what I suspected was coming would be incredible.
He surged even closer, and that combination of aftershave and earthy man that drove me absolutely insane filled every corner of my being.
Frantically, I replayed his words. Licked my lips, then jumped when a wild, animalistic sound erupted from his lips. “Why would you want to…earn it?”
“You really need to ask me that? Look at what you did, even just today. You’re special. You go above and beyond in every single thing you do. And, call me crass if you want, but you’re also sexy as fuck, a walking fuck doll who has very little idea what a knockout she is.” He sucked in a livid breath, as if what he was about to confess infuriated him. “It drives me fucking insane when I see other men watching you. When I see them trying to catch your eye, imagining they have a chance with you.”
Oh, sweet heaven. “It does?”
His nostrils fluttered as he took another giant breath. Then shook his head. “I’m not talking about those fuckers right now, baby. This right here, this moment, is just for you and me. Tell me you feel this too.”
Confession time.
The kind that had “no turning back” hammered all over it with red neon flashing arrows. Feelings and words I’d sealed in a vault for so long cracked open. Finally .
Euphoria filled me as they bubbled to the surface. “Yes. I feel it too.” I didn’t care if I sounded desperate or breathless.
All I cared about was the untamed and ravenous look in the eyes he squeezed shut for three rapid seconds. “Oh, thank fuck.” They opened again and zeroed in on my mouth, making them tingle wildly. “I hope you’re ready for what I have in store for you, sweet Emily. Because this good Catholic boy is going to do very, very bad things to you.”
Before I could say a single word, Fletcher pinned me to the glass with his lower body, wrapped one hand behind nape.
And then my boss, the man I’d lusted over for months , kissed me for the first time.
The hand on my neck tightened, and his thumb slid beneath my chin, angling my head up. Fletcher seemed to want to start gentle, but that soon fled out the window, when with a ragged groan and thirsty swipes of his tongue over my lower lip, he breached my lips and boldly devoured me like a starving man handed a feast.
I would’ve said it was everything I’d dreamed of, but the reality far surpassed my imagination.
The heat of him, our choppy breaths, the urgency of our seeking hands, all frantic pieces of a long-awaited puzzle finally slotting into place.
The expert stroke of his tongue against mine, the not-so-gentle nips of his teeth, as if he was punishing me for his hunger, made me weak. So fucking weak, my knees would’ve buckled if he wasn’t propping me up with his powerful body and the inflexible grip of my hip.
“Fuck, now I have you, confirmed what I knew all along that you’d taste like a fucking dream, I don’t know even where to start with you,” he said raggedly, his forehead dropping to mine.
“I have a few ideas,” I whispered.
Surprise lit through his eyes and he pulled back a fraction to peer down at me. “Tell me you want me to bend you over my desk. Or let me have you straddle me while I sit in my chair?”
My breath shortening, I shook my head.
The hand on my hip dug deep, and I suspected he didn’t even know he was clutching me that hard. I would probably have a bruise there, but I welcomed it. One of many mementos to mark this unbelievable occasion.
“On the couch? Fuck, the floor?” he croaked.
I gasped as I felt his dick swell against my belly, the scenarios he spelled out wreaking lusty havoc on him.
I shook my head again.
“Emily. Baby.” It was half-warning, half-frustration.
All anticipation when I wriggled against the glass and, when he gave me a few more inches of room, slowly worked my way to the floor.
His grey eyes went wide when he realized my intent. His hand left my nape to brace against the glass, then pushed back further to give me room as I sank onto my knees before Fletcher Knight.
“Oh fuck,” he croaked. “Ah Christ. You will never know how many times I’ve imagined you in this position, Emily.”
Desire, hot, thick and syrupy, swirled in my pelvis. Then dripped lower, heating my clenching pussy. “Probably not as much as I’ve wished myself right here, right now. Doing this.”
Pleased astonishment darkened his eyes. And when his fingers softly traced my cheek, I turned and dropped a quick kiss on his palm, supremely pleased when he hissed a breath.
“You should know that I was fully prepared to work my ass off for this. But…fuck, I’m so glad we’re on the same page. We are, aren’t we, baby?” he asked, that urgency back in his voice. In the frown marring the thick arousal etched on his face.
“Yes, Mr. Knight,” I breathed. Then I reached for his belt.
His jaw gaped, the light flush across his chiseled cheekbones deepening as his gaze darted from the fingers working his belt to my face, my throat. Every inch of me he could stare at, but always coming back to my fingers. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as I unfastened the expensive leather. Undid the single button of his pants. Then slowly drew down his zipper.
“May I please, Mr. Knight?”
He groaned. “Fuck. Yes,” he responded, his voice rough gravel.
Electricity filled my whole being as I drew the tab down, fulfilling one of my deepest, darkest fantasies.
That was until I gripped the sides of his boxer briefs and nudged them down to free Fletcher’s cock.
Fantasy fled. And real apprehension shot through me.