by Frost, Sosie
The brat was lucky I hadn’t inherited my father’s temper.
“A little peace and quiet would make me happy,” I said.
Too much to ask of her.
Mackenza stared me down. “You’ve been to Everest—and haven’t climbed a mountain since. You reached grandmaster at Chess—then never picked up another piece. You’ve stayed inside the damned space station—then never again looked through a telescope.”
I had no reason.
Once I’d conquered something, it meant nothing to me.
The challenge was all that mattered.
Not the goal. Not the end. Not the accomplishment.
“How many people do you know who’ve been in space and toured the bottom of the ocean?” I tilted my head. “I’ll give you a hint. You’re looking at him.”
Sure, she was impressed.
But she refused to acknowledge the truth of it.
“Did it make you happy?” she asked.
“What the hell do you want from me?”
“Tell me what you’re looking for.”
“Right now?” I laughed. “An end to this banal conversation.”
“What else do you want?”
“How about an assistant that keeps her mouth shut?”
“0 for 2.” She merely shook her head. “But I’m not asking again. I’ll figure it out for myself.”
Great.
An end to the conversation just so she could begin her own damned investigation.
Christ, it wasn’t even eight in the morning, and the brat had already exhausted me.
I should’ve tossed her ass out of my office. But, for all my strengths, I couldn’t resist a good fight.
It’d kill me. Eventually. But at least it’d be entertaining.
“If you really want to sate that curiosity, I know how you can learn my most intimate secrets,” I said.
She answered almost reflexively. “I won’t sleep with you.”
Might’ve been the only way to silence her endless questions.
“We’d go away together,” I said. “A trip. You look like you’d enjoy the mountains. I have a chalet in the Rockies. Imagine it—snow falling, crackling flames in a fireplace bigger than this office, thick furs over cool hardwood floors cradling your naked body. You’d look beautiful in firelight.”
That did it. She averted her gaze and released an impatient, but frustrated, puff of air.
“And I suppose you’d have your way with me?” she asked.
“I’d have multiple ways with you.”
“I’m flattered.”
“You should be packing.”
Instead, she ignored me, pushing out of her chair to pace the office.
Fuck.
She drifted toward my side of the desk, glancing over my workspace and even jiggling my mouse to peek at my desktop picture. I’d kept the default photo offered by Windows. No secrets there.
Mackenza hovered close enough for the lilac sweetness of her skin to tease my memory. I’d held those curves next to me. She might’ve been petite, but she fit perfectly beneath my body—as if she’d been made for me, as if, had she simply surrendered to what we both needed, we could’ve melted away into a perfect silent harmony.
“You don’t have any mementos on your desk,” she said. “No photos. No gifts. Nothing.”
And she wouldn’t find any either. I made it a point to start fresh everywhere I went—new office, new penthouse, new furniture, new clothes. The few things I kept—articles, photos, memorabilia—meant nothing. Just a foolish hope that one day I’d look upon them and actually feel something.
Like how I felt near Mackenza.
Her hand accidentally grazed mine, and the shock was immediate. A brazen jolt of pure electricity. The heat rampaged through my body, aiming for the part of me that awakened at the most inopportune times when facing this woman.
Why fight it?
If I couldn’t get rid of her…
I pulled her into my lap, but she didn’t fight me.
Maybe that would be the real challenge. Not me against her…but me against myself.
I knew better than to run my hands over her curves, to inhale that sweet, floral scent. To imagine the heat that I’d been so close to conquering.
Her father had asked that I keep an eye on his little girl while she learned the day-to-day operations of the company.
Well, I’d always said I was productive and accomplished. Never said I was a good man.
I knew more than one way to silence a woman. I tugged her close and seized her in a kiss.
And the muffled whimper on her lips sounded a hell of a lot better than the unending interrogation.
But the brat was braver than I’d thought. Her mouth parted with panted surprise, welcoming me deeper with a sweep of her own tongue.
That worried me too.
She’d already scrutinized everything about my head. But that didn’t give her any answers.
So, she turned to my body.
And I had a more difficult time silencing those parts of my desire.
Last thing I wanted was to be examined. I did that enough to myself. I had no need for another person intruding on my darkening thoughts and judging what they found.
I ran my hand through her hair. The short bob perfectly framed her face, granting her that pixie glow of pure mischief.
Christ, she was beautiful.
And hot. Burning. Dying to cast that match and consume us in the flames we’d extinguished far too early last night.
Her body responded to mine—tensing and aching under my touch. Her fingers clutched my suit jacket, clinging to me.
Groaning.
So damned close to yet another mistake that would ruin us.
The ringing of my office-line was the very excuse we needed to stop and the worst interruption to both of our needs.
The shrill jingling grated my nerves like a toothache. Damn. Tessa must’ve still been in the lobby sorting out the coffee cart.
Fortunately, the piercing ring didn’t bother me nearly as much as it’d triggered Mackenza.
“You are my assistant,” I reminded her.
“And you know how to use a phone.” She wrenched her hands off my jacket with such force she nearly took a button with it.
“I’m far too overworked to answer my own calls,” I said.
“You are not.”
“Let it go to voicemail then—we’ll see how busy we can get.” I loved how the irritation stiffened her muscles. “The choice is yours, Kenza. I need to attend a board meeting in ten minutes. If you plan to go with me…answer the phone.”
The tension coiled us both, binding our bodies in place.
But I should’ve known better.
With a slow, deliberate twist of her hips, Mackenza shifted against my lap and centered herself directly over the hardness stealing my rationality. She reached for the phone, and the gentle sway of her thighs ground perfectly against me.
I gripped her curves before she answered the phone, slamming her down, grinding her heat against mine.
“Fuck it…” My words escaped in a frustrated growl. “Let it go to voicemail. We’ll skip the damned meeting.”
Why the hell did I give that ammunition to a woman weaponizing her own curves?
She answered with a bright and chipper greeting.
“Maxwell Intimates—Mackenza Maxwell speaking.”
She shimmied her hips against me as she spoke, settling against my strength with a smirk.
My cock was used to getting what it wanted.
This woman would see it burst before she pitied me with a single stroke of her hand.
“I’m not available…” I tugged the hem of her dress higher against her dark thighs.
Mackenza ignored me. “Of course, Mr. Mitchell is available.”
I thunked my head against the back of the chair. “Christ. Take a message.”
She teased me with the brush of her fingers against my arm.
Just the hin
t of her gentleness tightened my cock.
“Oh…he hasn’t returned your calls?” She tisked her tongue. “Well then, I wouldn’t dream of taking a message. One moment. Let me get him for you.”
She delighted in insubordination.
I spoke through gritted teeth. “I told you I’m not here.”
“As your assistant, I implore you to take this call.”
I reluctantly took the phone. “Who is it? Board member?”
A shrill, irritated voice reprimanded me through the damned phone.
“It’s your mother.” Mackenza giggled as she shimmied off my lap.
So much for my erection.
The brat smiled victoriously as she gathered the papers from my desk and checked her watch, tapping the face.
“You’ll probably be a while…” She whispered. “I’ll just let the board know we can start without you. I’ll see you at the meeting…Boss.”
7
Mackenza
The elevator shut way too slowly.
A hand jutted in at the last second, popping the doors open despite my best efforts to mash the close button.
Should’ve taken the stairs—especially working this late with only Cameron in the office.
What a perfect end to an absolutely infuriating day.
Cameron dared to smirk at me as he entered the elevator.
I scowled in return.
I’d worked my buns off designing, coordinating, and preparing the slideshow and presentation needed to convince the board that doubling our efforts in the classic Maxwell Intimates line would be all we needed to secure a profitable and consistent future.
The audacity of this man—thinking he could charm me after locking me out of my own damned board meeting.
I had more pride than to rattle the doors off their hinges and barge into the closed meeting. No way I’d allow the board to think that Cameron Mitchell had outmaneuvered me.
I’d emailed them my presentation, and I used those two spare hours to redirect all Cameron’s calls, paperwork, and mail to me instead. If he wanted to waste our time schmoozing the board, then someone had to run the company.
…And if that someone happened to approve production of a sample for a brand-new women’s shapewear line specifically for active seniors…
All the better.
I greeted the man with stony silence.
Unfortunately, that’s what he liked best.
And, somehow, in some perverted, unconscionable way, I loved pleasing him.
What was it about this man that set my every nerve on fire?
And why couldn’t I decide if I hated it…
Or if it promised every pleasure I’d always denied myself.
The ancient elevator trudged downward, not nearly fast enough to outpace the rush of feelings I’d desperately attempted to deny.
Cameron was a mystery wrapped in solid muscle, hidden beneath designer suits chosen only for brand recognition and not because they complimented his perfect form. Everything about him dizzied my head with thoughts of pure sin and delight. His dark eyes. The rough shadow of a beard against his jaw. The hardness that had so delighted me with promise…
I had yet to experience what made The Panty King royalty, but I could imagine how that coronation would feel.
I’d fantasized about it.
Dreamed about it.
Caught myself gnawing the cap of my pen so hard I’d ruined two blouses with blue ink stains.
What the hell was wrong with me?
The elevator bumbled and shook.
I wasn’t often claustrophobic, but Cameron’s presence made the ride intolerable. Close and caramel sticky. The excruciatingly slow descent trapped us within the confined space.
Our bodies nearly touched in the cramped cabin.
The warmth from his skin superheated the air.
I gasped a regretted breath. His whiskey and pine scent seared my lungs with the memory of his kiss.
I forced my gaze forward and pretended I couldn’t hear the rasp of his heavy breathing. Just as ragged and anxious as my own.
Had his shadow gotten bigger?
The man’s sheer presence swallowed me whole.
Ding.
The elevator’s pitiful tone echoed in the cabin as we passed the next floor.
My impatience fractured me into a dozen shards of frantic frustration.
If I’d wanted to torture myself, I would’ve taken the stairs in my three-inch heels. If any girl deserved a few blistered toes, it was the one imaging all the terrible ways to rattle the elevator all the way to the lobby.
But simply standing near the man twisted my core and left me trembling with curiosity. I squirmed, pressing my thighs together.
Oh.
Now there was a sensation that teased me with promise.
The tension built within me. A twitchy, uneven desire that left me bumbling and unsteady.
And he hadn’t even touched me. Hadn’t said a word.
He’d just appeared—a bastion of power and charm that dared a woman to imagine all the dirty little secrets he kept hidden under the suit.
I clenched my eyes shut and counted my racing heartbeats. I couldn’t be this obsessed with the man. This desperate.
My lips parted in a quiet intake of breath.
Cameron’s gaze finally settled upon me.
His jaw tensed. His fists curled tight, hiding the trembling of his fingers.
But he smiled, those perfectly white, dangerously sharp canines exposed in conceited victory.
He stepped toward me.
But a mechanical squeal violently lurched the cabin to a jolted stop.
The hum of the florescent lights peeked and silenced, flickering into darkness.
Silence fell over us.
A single heartbeat passed before I leapt at Cameron.
His thick arms swept me against his chest, and he captured me in a heated, animalistic kiss.
Within seconds, he crushed me against the elevator wall and wrapped me tight in his embrace.
Unyielding.
Imprisoned.
Perfect.
My hands tangled within his suit. I hauled him closer, pushed him away, and did all I could to unhook the buttons preventing my fingertips from feeling the solid mountain of muscle that was his chest.
We fumbled against each other, both desperate to be rid of any scrap of clothing separating our bodies. His aggravation intoxicated me. My harsh, insulting words frustrated him more.
He tasted of excitement and raw desire. Hot and spicy with every promise of trouble.
He ripped at my skirt but had to battle my hands, practically wrenching the material away from my own legs.
I groaned as my back slammed against the wall, chased by a shiver of delight that nearly pushed me over the edge he’d created. The shock of it all, the desperation, should’ve shamed me. Instead, I wrapped my legs around his waist as he wedged between my thighs.
He captured me once more in a wickedly devious kiss.
And our reprehensible, irresponsible, absolutely reckless embrace…
Felt right.
It was as if I belonged in his arms, as if his arrogance and my resistance blended into a desire so maddeningly intense neither of us could fight the inevitable mistake.
My thoughts blurred into a blend of demands and primal urges.
The darkness surrounded us, and we wildly groped at each other, tearing away clothes and losing ourselves in the reassurance of shadows.
I said nothing. Whispered no apologies. Offered no threats.
Neither of us wanted this.
But we craved it. Needed it. The darkness overwhelmed us with a primitive instinct to surrender.
Pure animalistic chaos.
And I loved it.
My skirt bunched at my waist. It gave him enough space to rip my panties away. Good thing it was dark. I didn’t own any underwear sexy enough to impress The Panty King.
Not that it mattered. As soon as his h
and brushed my heat, both of us were lost to our own madness.
My silken wetness revealed everything with shameful truth, but I expected nothing less from a man skilled with dancing fingers. A single caress of my petals left me trembling and begging.
I said nothing, but Cameron understood my every desire without my words. I’d been ready for him since the instant we met. The past month had been wretched. Every night, I’d gone to sleep with his name on my lips. Every day I’d ached and suffered, my core burning with desperation after spending so very long in his presence, far from his touch and refusing his advances.
Maybe this would be a mistake—a moment of utter damnation.
But if it finally quelled my uncompromising, unending need, maybe offering every part of myself was worth the surrender.
Just once.
Just one moment of weakness.
Just one frantic embrace in a dark silence which hid our shame and swallowed our confessions.
His fingers dazzled the slickness between my legs. Already so familiar. As if he knew and had memorized every secret of my body in the few precious moments we first spent in each other’s arms.
If this was just sex, something impulsive and filthy…
Then I had no idea why I had ever fought it.
He teased my wetness and shifted in the darkness, seizing my lips as he positioned himself before me. I couldn’t see him, but his presence surrounded me. The metallic tinkling of his belt practically echoed in the silence of the elevator. His husky, grunted breath prepared me for the crush of his body.
Sweaty.
Both of us.
The elevator turned sweltering within moments—the stifling air prickling at our exposed skin. But the cool metal of the elevator’s railing nearly chilled through me. I shivered, and the goose bumps chased the pleasure along every hidden secret of my body.
He steadied before me, and I pretended that I was ready for the brush of his cock against my slit.
Oh, he was even more accomplished than I thought.
The size of this man was worth the endless frustrations. His thickness rubbed against me. Once. Twice. Teasing my soft petals with a promise of so much more than a little shiver of bliss.