Can’t Touch
Penny Wylder
Contents
1. Kris
2. Chianna
3. Chianna
4. Kris
5. Chianna
6. Kris
7. Chianna
8. Chianna
9. Kris
10. Chianna
11. Chianna
12. Kris
Epilogue
Copyright © 2021 Penny Wylder
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.
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1
Kris
I’m distracted.
Given the amount of work on my plate, I should be focused on the proposal that could change my career. But I’m not. Instead, my head is in my pants. Or rather, I’m currently thinking with that part of my body as the new girl in the office walks by my door again.
I’m not one for the sappy romantic comedy shit, but I swear, I froze when I saw her. The world focused down to her—one single point. It took me a good minute to realize that I’d stopped walking and I was staring.
Good thing she didn’t notice that.
The last impression I want to make is being the office creep. I don’t exactly know what I want yet, but I know that I can’t stop looking at her whenever she walks by my glass walls. And that I’ve thought more than once about how it would feel if I were shaking those same glass walls with her.
Absolute perfection. That’s the only thing that I see when I look at her. Gorgeous red hair that falls in waves around her shoulders. I can’t remember a time when I’ve seen a shade that vivid that was clearly natural. Paired with pale, creamy skin, curves for days, and a set of lips that could drive a thousand men’s fantasies. I can’t take my eyes off her.
It’s like I’m suddenly attuned to her. Whenever she walks by, I look up just in time. The question is…who is she? I’ve been so buried in this project that it feels like it’s been months since I looked up. Just because I’ve never seen her before doesn’t mean that she hasn’t been here for a while.
But her energy…there’s something innocent there. A purity that makes me want to corrupt her.
Just a little bit.
There’s something appealing about the idea of introducing her to a darker, more sensual side of life. Or even more appealing, I wonder what she’s like behind closed doors. There’s something about her that makes me think that she’s wild when nobody is watching. And the mere thought of that has my cock hardening in my pants.
That’s the big problem with having an office with glass walls. There’s no easy way to take care of that little problem. All I can do is try to get my body under control and wait until I get home to take care of the fantasies in my mind.
There are many…many fantasies.
Fuck. It’s still early in the afternoon and I’m already fried. Maybe that’s why I can’t take my eyes off this mystery girl. The project I’m working on could affect the future of the company. A proposal for expansion into the European market. We’re doing it either way, but there are multiple proposals. The one that gets chosen? That’s who gets the promotion, a big raise, and the amazing opportunity to guide and organize that expansion.
I’m going to win.
There are probably ten people in the company putting forth proposals. But everyone knows that it’s mainly a competition between two. Me and Meynard Brack. The prick.
The fact that we started at the same time and have risen through the company equally only makes our rivalry more intense. There’s always been friction between the two of us. But lately, he’s been on top. Not anymore. I won’t let him take this from me.
Coffee. I need coffee if I’m going to make it to the end of the day. Especially if I want to stay awake long enough to watch the news and grab dinner after I get home.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I head to the break room. At the very least, the assistants keep the office stocked with decent coffee. Today is no exception. I welcome the burst of energy that I can feel as the coffee hits my tongue. Almost like a chemical reaction. My body knows that the caffeine is coming and it’s getting ready.
A bright voice sounds from down the hallway, and I do a double take as I see the gorgeous new girl talking to Meynard outside his office. Fuck.
Meynard has five years on me. Something that he hates. Because yeah, we have a rivalry there, too. But even though I haven’t spoken to her yet, possessive anger rises in my chest. This is one woman that I don’t want him beating me to. The very idea that she’d even be around him fills me with rage.
He doesn’t deserve her.
He doesn’t deserve anything, but least of all the fresh spirit that I can sense in her.
But in spite of Meynard being a total fucking killjoy, she looks happy. Almost bubbly as she talks to him. And when she jumps up on her toes and gives him a hug, my entire body freezes. They’re already at that point? Holy shit.
Meynard’s face transforms into anger instantly. He pulls her off him and holds her at arm’s length, and it looks like he’s ripping her head off. Holy shit, that’s a massive overreaction for something as trivial as a hug. That same possessive instinct rises in me. How dare he treat an employee that way?
She tries to pull away, and he grabs her elbow, that same thunderous anger on his face. Even from here I can see how hard he’s holding her arm. Hell, he’s digging in enough that it might leave bruises on her arm. That’s completely unacceptable.
Coffee entirely forgotten, I head down the hall toward them, now filled with renewed energy. Keeping my stride easy, I approach the two of them with my hands in my pockets, and I reach them just in time to hear him finish his sentence, “You’re never going to do that again, clear?”
“Clear,” she says softly. It’s the first word that I’ve heard her say, and the voice that comes out of her mouth is both musical and gorgeous. And exactly the kind of voice that makes me crave to hear what it sounds like when she’s losing control.
“Meynard,” I say with intentional casualness.
“Kris,” he replies. He’s watching me warily, and he should. Right now, the veneer of civility is the only thing keeping me from punching him into the fucking ground.
I tilt my head and look at him. “How’s the proposal coming?”
“As well as I’m sure yours is.” The smile that accompanies the words is feral. “But if you ever want help, I’ll be glad to look at it.”
“Likewise.”
As if there was any way in hell that either of us would let the other see our proposals and risk ideas being stolen.
“Can I help you with something?” he asks.
I’m aware that the new girl is watching what’s happening between us. I hope that she doesn’t mind that I’m coming to her rescue. The blush on her perfect skin speaks of her being embarrassed. But she shouldn’t be.
“You can, actually.” I say. “I was in the break room just now, and I couldn’t help see that you were practically manhandling this employee. And over something as simple as a hug. I thought that was a bit of an overreaction and came to see if you were all right.” I direct that last part to her.
Her eyes go wide, suddenly staring at me. It takes everything in me to keep my body from reacting. Especially in front of this asshole. But I’m captivated by her gaze. Her eyes are a gorgeous bottle green, clear and war
m.
Those perfect lips part, and for a second I’m imagining the way that they’ll taste before she speaks. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Okay. Just making sure.”
“Noble of you,” Meynard says, and I look at him just in time to see him roll his eyes.
I narrow my own. “There are conduct standards, Meynard. You and I both know that. I’m completely within my right to intervene if I see something inappropriate. And gripping a woman’s arm hard enough to leave bruises is more than enough.”
“Despite you swooping in to be the hero, I did nothing wrong, and this has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“So intentionally harming an employee is fine with you?”
He scoffs. “I mean that this isn’t a normal employee relationship. So you can fuck off back to your office now and pretend that you didn’t come over here to spy on me.”
“Meynard,” I say, “I didn’t actually come over here to spy on you. Why? Because my proposal is excellent and I have no need to spy on you. And whatever you think of me, I came over because I actually care about the employees here.”
He laughs, and I hate the sound. “Tell yourself whatever you want. But you’re not needed here. This is Chianna. She’s an intern. Despite our relationship outside the office, I informed her that hugging me here wasn’t appropriate. So you can calm down and get off your chivalrous bullshit.”
I look down at the gorgeous woman in front of me. Chianna. Her name rings in my mind like a bell. I can’t believe this beautiful woman is with Meynard. Red is framing my vision and my pulse has kicked up a few beats, but I manage to say, “It’s nice to meet you, Chianna.”
2
Chianna
I wish that the earth would just open up and swallow me whole right about now. I knew Uncle Meynard was a hard ass when I took this job, but seeing it firsthand—especially in front of one of his colleagues—is something else.
His extraordinarily hot colleague. Like holy fuck, the man is sex walking, but I can’t show that right now. Even a hint of that and I’ll get more of a lecture than I was already getting before the knight in shining armor rode in in the first place.
But still…sex walking. Not that I would know much about that. Sex for me is reserved for romance novels, movies, and the brief moments I steal in darkness before I let my own mortification get the better of me.
It’s not that I don’t want that. I do. It’s just that I’ve been busy. Success comes from getting your hands dirty. That’s what my mom always used to say. And for me? That meant putting dating and relationships aside so that I could focus on my schoolwork and career. I don’t regret it.
Most days.
Sometimes it feels weird to the only virgin among my friends. I’ve never admitted it. I don’t want to tell them I’m twenty and have zero experience. Someday I’ll have my own stories to tell. In the meantime, I just laugh with them and toast to their romantic mishaps.
I guess I won’t have to worry about that for a bit. New York isn’t even close to where I’m from, and Uncle Meynard is being more than kind letting me stay with him and also pulling the strings to get me this internship. Some people would argue that’s what a guardian is supposed to do. But honestly, he’s been hands-off with me. He let me stay where I was to finish high school, and let me go to college early.
Now that I’m out, he’s only my official guardian until I turn twenty-one. Then everything that was my mother’s that’s held in trust for me is mine. And I can go and do whatever I please. That’s okay. This is where I want to be.
Or I’d felt that way until about five minutes ago when he started to use me in whatever competition that he has going with the hot as fuck stranger. And now he’s flat out told this man that I’m an intern. The tone of his voice makes it clear exactly what he thinks of that, no matter if he’s the one who got me the job.
“Speaking of,” my uncle says, “time for you to get back to work.”
He storms off down the hall toward his office, and I’m left standing with the man that makes me want to stare at him until his image is burned on my eyes like I’ve looked at the sun too long. Kris Canterbar. I know who he is, but seeing him in person is way different from seeing the photos of him in tech magazines.
My would-be savior is glaring in the direction that my uncle disappeared. Such visceral anger that it almost takes me back a step. Then his face softens, and he smiles at me. Holy shit.
Like holy fucking shit.
The man has a smile that can paralyze you in place. There’s no way that I’ll be able to move again because I’m basking in the warmth of that smile.
“Chianna, huh?”
I stare at him, and it takes a second to process that he’s actually speaking to me. “What?”
He grins again. “Your name is Chianna? How long have you and Meynard been dating?”
“Yes. That’s me.” I feel a flush rush up my chest and face and I snort laugh. Dating! Nice, Chi. “No, no, no. You misunderstood. He and I aren’t dating. He’s my uncle.”
He raises his eyebrows and his tense jaw relaxes. Why would he look relieved to hear that I’m Meynard’s niece? Looking at me up and down, he holds out his hand. “I’m—”
“Kris Canterbar,” I say. “One of Core Tech’s top execs along with my uncle and a few others, and one of the frontrunners for the new European expansion project.”
Kris’s eyebrows rise. “I’m impressed. You know your way around here already.”
I laugh, though it comes out more nervously than I want it to. “I try. I didn’t want to spend my time learning about the company while I’m here. I’d rather actually learn the business itself.”
“That’s smart,” he says, and reaches out his hand again. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”
The second that I take his hand, I lose all of my breath. This isn’t a normal handshake. This is like if sex were dressed up as a handshake. The way our hands come together, and the firm grip…
God, I need to get a grip. It’s a fucking handshake. My heart shouldn’t be racing the way it is right now. I shouldn’t be imagining what it would be like to have his hand drift further up my arm and touch me everywhere.
Kris’s hand pulls back from mine slowly. But as he pulls away, his fingers drift along my palm like he’s exploring my skin. For a second—just a second—he weaves our fingers together and caresses my hand. Or maybe I’ve finally gone mad and I’m imagining the whole thing.
Because that can’t have really happened, right?
Right?
A soft laugh from him floats through the air and brushes across my skin.
What is going on with me today? I would never say that I’m the kind of person that’s prone to letting my fantasies get the better of me. But that laugh evokes soft darkness and whispered words. Soft sighs and kisses. Things that I’ve never had and always wanted. And if someone like Kris is making me think these things in the middle of the day at the office? I need to take some personal time with my vibrator so I can manage to be a fucking professional.
Kris tucks his hand into his pocket. Carefully. Gently.
If I didn’t know any better, I might say that he was trying to protect the hand that he shook like some kind of celebrity groupie. Can’t wash the hand that touched mine.
Oh my God, Chianna, get a fucking grip. He’s one of the tech industry’s top executives, not a singer in a boy band. But who am I kidding? With the way he looks—that smile, those eyes, that hair—he’d fit in with any boy band. He’d have women screaming his name and throwing their panties at him in no time.
I have a brief mental image of myself at this very same concert, with perfect aim, throwing a pair of panties to the rock god version of Kris. He catches them and inhales deeply. There’s no reason on this good earth that I should find that as hot as I do. All I know is that I do, and now I’m standing in front of the man himself, in the office and not a rock venue, with wet panties thinking about a fictional version of him.
>
“I’m looking forward to seeing what else you know,” Kris says.
“What?” It’s the first word out of my mouth, drawing me back to reality. My face flushes, but Kris just smiles.
“Since you’ve done your research, I’m excited to see what else you’ve learned.”
I swallow. “I hope that I do well.”
“I’m sure that I still have a few secrets that you don’t know yet. But while you’re here, I’d love to tell them to you.” He winks, and I feel that wink in every fucking cell of my body.
The blush that already started just intensifies. The way that he’s looking at me…I shake my head to clear it.
“Anything that you’re willing to teach me, I’m willing to learn.”
I realize too late exactly how that sounds, and I watch Kris’s eyes go dark. The intensity there absolutely steals my breath, and there’s no fucking way he missed my accidental double entendre. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Okay.” I press my lips together. “I should get back to work now.”
“See you around,” he says with a smile, and I practically flee down the hallway toward my cubicle. If anyone asks me, I’ll deny it, but I definitely spend a good twenty minutes just staring at the walls trying to catch my breath. I’ve never felt anything like that.
Hell, I didn’t even realize that people could have that kind of presence in real life. I thought that kind of thing was reserved for books and movies where everything is exaggerated and romanticized.
I pull up the document full of research that I put together before starting the job here. Kris’s photo is in there, and it doesn’t do him justice. The photo is of him on one of the balconies of this very building. He’s standing casually, arms crossed, red tie, classic power pose.
Can’t Touch Page 1