Desire
Page 29
I nod and squeeze my lips together.
“You're crying.”
After a few beats where I consider denying it, I nod less vigorously.
“Why? Are you hurt?”
I can't really say. I thought it was about being unceremoniously tossed while on vacation. But that whole week it was Darcy's that face kept swimming up in my visions. Even when I was lying on the beach with Sam, I was fantasizing about my boss there beside me.
I told myself it wasn’t wrong. It was only the same as picturing myself on a luxurious trip with Brad Pitt or one of the Ryans – strange how my fantasies always extend to powerful and confident more mature men.
“Not because of that boyfriend?” Darcy prompts with an almost snarl.
Christ, his hand is still resting weightily on my hip. The heat from him burns through my clothes, his grip on me cosseting, safe and is it my imagination- possessive? I shake my head now. Why the hell am I dumbstruck? My lips are quivering and refuse to form a single word.
Then I notice my thighs are shaking and the clench deeper into my core tells me it's not only thanks to the near miss. My boss has never touched me. Never laid his hands on my body. I've only ever felt his skin twice. Once when we brushed fingertips passing a sheaf of documents at a meeting. The second time when he found me departing the Christmas party and insisted on helping me into my coat. His fingertips grazed across the nape of my neck and sent spasms of electric light through me.
Now with his heavy palm gripping me, all I can think of is how it might feel if I was naked under his powerful grasp and he was holding both hips and thrusting his cock inside me.
“Perhaps I should take you to a hospital. You're flushed hot.”
“No, I'm fine,” I gasp.
I'm flushed because I was just picturing your cock buried balls deep inside me and my blood surged to every corner.
“Then I'll take you up to the office.” Darcy insists, taking my hand to fold my arm through his, adding; “Lean on me.”
Oh God, if only I could. If only you were the man I could use as my hunk for support and security for the rest of my life.
But I can't. And it's kind of cliché to fall in love with my boss.
“You're shivering.”
His hand covers mine, sitting on the solid thick forearm.
“I'm fine honestly, thank you.”
“It's nothing, Mabel. I just need to know you're okay.”
He leads me through the marble lobby and into the elevator. Not the bank of public elevators crowded with people rushing to offices, but set behind those. His private elevator. He palms the small of my back and presses me gently inside. His body is so close to mine I think I might buckle at the knees.
I wonder how many women he's brought inside his personal ride to the top floor. I've never seen any of his dates in person but I've fielded plenty of phone calls and had to deliver the usual lie; 'I'm sorry, he's out of the office', to quite a few screamers.
The plain fact is Darcy Eglinton drives women to distraction. And I'm not immune.
He's charming and handsome with a body a Greek God would envy but also slippery enough to make eels jealous in his inability to stick with one woman. I haven't been above looking up the women he's seeing. Not in a stalkerish way, just to get to know my boss and understand his preferences. I'm curious to find out what kind of woman turns him on. Naturally, none of them is anything like me.
I don’t know where to look. We're standing close enough that only an inch of vacancy exists between our bodies. One small jolt of the car and we'd be in each others arms.
Uh-huh. In your wildest fantasies, Mabel.
Get Bossy Valentine
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