by Stacey Lynn
I was still going to kill him. The next time he growled my name as he prowled by my office, not bothering to look at me as he snapped, “Miss Morales, my office,” in a way that left little room for me to say one stinking word like he’d done two seconds ago, I was going to leap from my chair, wrap my manicured fingers around his throat, and choke the arrogance and breath out of him.
Needless to say, Miranda’s dress ensemble failed to do what she said it would. It wasn’t driving him crazy. He hadn’t even glanced at me long enough to see what I was wearing.
It shouldn’t have bothered me, but as I stood and smoothed the red skirt down my thighs, it did.
Because damn it, I’d wanted him to walk into the office, maybe stutter a bit, or trip over his feet. I wanted his eyes to trail down my body in that way it had when he’d made me orgasm for the fourth time. Or maybe that one had been a really long third one. See? I was still so messed up and twisted and he truly didn’t care.
What an idiot I’d been.
Now I had to face him for the umpteenth time that day, already having worked through the lunch because the proposal I’d done on New Year’s Eve had been less than impeccable, sit in front of him across from his desk while he barked orders at me without bothering to look up from his desk.
And that damn tingle of arousal that had hit me in the car still hadn’t dissipated. If anything, every time he growled my name like he wanted to rip my head off, increased it.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I grabbed my iPad, notebook, and pen off my desk and made my way to his office like a man on his way to the electric chair.
His fingers were wildly tapping on the keyboard of his laptop and I forced my gaze to a blank spot on his desk. Those damn fingers. I still remembered the way he moved them inside me. Thick, strong. And when he’d held my hands down with those same hands maniacally pounding away on his keys, I’d never felt more centered in my life.
I had to murder him. It was the only way possible I was ever going to forget the other night.
I slipped into the leather chair opposite his sleek, black desk and waited until he stopped typing. Every moment I waited, that tingle turned to a throb until I was certain he could smell how turned on I was. His dark eyes narrowed on the computer, his hair mussed like he’d been scrubbing it all day, and his scruff along his cheeks all gave hints at his frustration. But it was his dress shirt, crisp and white and rolled up and pushed to the elbows I couldn’t pull my gaze away from. Veins popped on his arms, tendons bunched as he typed.
I’d experienced the strength of those arms intimately. I’d slid my tongue along the inside of his wrist. I’d bitten into a chunk of muscle hidden beneath the collar of his shirt.
And to him, I was a meaningless one-night stand.
Regret pummeled into my chest at the same time he pushed the computer away and turned to me.
“Where are you on the proposal?”
Not even a hello. Or a question. Just a demand. They weren’t nearly as sexy as they were when we were naked.
Stop thinking about that!
“I’m almost done. I’ll have it to you by the morning.” Which meant staying until at least nine o’clock tonight to complete it. But for once, I wasn’t upset about having to work late. If I went home, I’d smell the lingering scent of his cologne. When I walked into my room, I’d remember the way he spanked me while I’d braced myself against my wall. I’d done all of that willingly and now, sitting in front of him, his dark brown eyes blanked of any emotion, I’d never felt more like a fool.
Anger burned in my eyes and I dropped my gaze to my lap. “What else do you need, Bennett?”
I’d dropped the Mr. Ashby the first time he called me into his office. If he cared that I was no longer addressing him the way I’d done since I’d been promoted, he said nothing.
The tapping of a pen on the desk got my attention and I lifted my gaze. He was staring at me, his gaze penetrating even if he didn’t show emotion.
A muscle jumped in his jaw before he turned to his computer. He clicked the mouse. “Schedule an appointment for Thursday afternoon so I can meet with Anderson Jakobs regarding the proposal. I want this nailed down immediately. Also, that morning, I have an hour opening to go over the town home complex with Ryan. Friday afternoon is the groundbreaking ceremony for Rolling Heights.”
I was busy scribbling down all of his notes, my pen scratching so hard on my paper it also cut through. The anger hadn’t dissipated and I was still blinking back tears in my eyes when I realized he’d stopped talking.
Dropping my pen, I lifted my head. “Is that all?” I asked when he didn’t continue speaking.
He was watching me in a way that wasn’t nearly as blank as it’d been all day. I took a moment to compose myself. If he saw the conflicting emotions inside me, I couldn’t bear it.
“You’ll come with me to the ceremony.”
“What?”
As if he hadn’t just offered me an opportunity I’d been dying to see, he continued. “Rolling Heights was the first project you worked on with me when you were promoted and you did well. You deserve to be there.”
And hell must have frozen over. Or pigs were flying. I flicked my gaze to the windows to check. Perhaps in a split second, Bennett had been replaced with someone who gave a shit. He was actually acknowledging I’d done something good around here.
I couldn’t fathom any option actually happening. “Okay, thank you. Mr.—Bennett.”
I caught myself and looked at him. In that split second, a muscle popped in his jaw and he turned back to his computer. “You’re dismissed.”
Oh yay. With the compliment and kindness and all, I thought he was over his assholery. Should have known that wouldn’t have happened.
I stood from the chair and left his office, leaving his door open and not bothering to slam it shut behind me like I wanted to.
Back in my office, I dropped my head into my hands as my shoulders shook.
I had to get over this insane attraction to him. We’d had sex. That was it. I was acting like I expected him to be thankful for getting to stick his dick inside me. What happened the other night might as well have been any regular night for him.
He didn’t care that he’d fucked me. In fact, he’d promised he wouldn’t mention our night, keeping our personal and our professional lives separated.
I just didn’t think he’d be the same bossy prick he’d always been.
But that was my fault. And now I was learning.
The only way Bennett was going to settle soft and kind eyes on me and whisper gentle words in my ears again was if I dropped to my knees and begged him to.
Chapter Nine
Bennett
It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to stay in my chair while Rebecca hurried out of my office like I’d set her on fire. It’d taken every ounce of self-control I possessed to stay away from her all day. For the last thirty-six hours, I’d jacked off to memories of her and our night together more times than I’d actually come inside her.
One night wasn’t enough.
I didn’t know what kind of game she was playing, but I was pissed the fuck off. When I got to the office today, my dick did the same salute it always did when I stepped off the elevator knowing I was going to be seeing her any moment. I expected to walk by her office, get a glimpse of her standard black shirt, buttoned up, and tucked behind her desk so I couldn’t see the sexy as hell legs that had been wrapped around my waist and slung over my shoulders while I’d repeatedly slid deep inside her.
Instead, the first view I’d had of her had me biting back a growl of fucking lust that had slammed into my chest so hard I had to stop and look away.
That red skirt curved her ass as she stood at the edge of her desk, scribbling notes down in her weekly planne
r. Black, sexy as fuck stockings with a thick line down the back of her legs pulled my eyes downward and when I dragged my gaze back up, I almost came right in my pants.
Because she wasn’t wearing the same conservative shit she always wore. Her gray top had such a deep V-neck I saw a hint of her black lace bra as she stood and stretched.
I’d groaned so loud I’d ducked into an empty office for fear she heard me. And damn her. She had me about ready to lose control in the first two minutes I’d stepped inside the office. I’d promised her I wouldn’t bring up our night together but if she kept wearing such seductive clothing, I’d be breaking my promise.
So yeah, I was being a bigger jerk than usual but it was the only thing keeping me from picking her up, slamming her down on my desk, and eating her pussy without giving a shit if anyone else on the floor heard me.
Taking Rebecca Morales home the other night had been an epically horrific decision, and I wasn’t a man used to making such bad judgment calls.
When she sat in front of me in my office just now, tears had shimmered in her eyes. I’d almost apologized. I should have.
Offering her a trip to the ground-breaking ceremony was the best I could do because she had worked hard. She was quickly becoming more than my assistant, but my partner in all business plans. She deserved to be there.
But fuck, I should have apologized. Or, I could stop being such an asshole and tell her I wanted her again. That when I was in the shower that morning after an hour workout that did nothing to quench the taste of her still deep in my throat, I wrapped my hand around my dick, wishing it was her mouth. That when I came, splashing my seed against my tiled walls, I’d done it wishing I was digging my fingers into her hair and groaning her name.
Because that’d go over well. We were in the office. I was pretty certain telling my assistant I wanted to shove my dick in her throat after the way I treated her all day would earn me a quick slap to my face and a sexual harassment suit on my desk.
Fuck. Fuck!
I’d screwed up.
There was a way to fix it, though. I just needed some time.
I pushed the button on my desk phone that would ring hers. I heard the echoing buzz come from her office and when she didn’t immediately answer, I gritted my teeth.
I buzzed again.
“You rang?” Her gravelly voice sparked through the intercom and she sniffed.
I tried like hell to soften my voice. Just be nice. Doesn’t mean you have to fuck her if you’re nice to her. At least, not yet. “Rebecca.”
I waited a beat. Then two. She sniffed again and a sludgy coffee taste settled in my stomach. Had I made her so mad, treated her so shitty that I made her cry?
“What, Bennett?”
“I need a reservation scheduled for next Friday at eight at The Chop House. Get the Captain’s table or Chef’s table if they’re available.”
“For how many?”
“Two.” Her breath hitched and she sniffed again. I could give her a break and tell her she’d be joining me, but frankly, I was liking this pissed off side of her. And the hint of jealousy as she confirmed my request for two. Jealousy made my dick hard.
I pressed a hand to my crotch to stave off the throbbing in my dick.
“Anything else?”
I grinned into the phone. Her sass and her anger would only serve me well over the next week while I worked my way deep inside her mind before sinking inside her body again.
“That’d be all. And Rebecca? Have a nice night.”
Another breath hitch slid through the intercom before I depressed the button. Moments later, her voice filtered into my office as she made the reservation.
I grinned down at my desk, plan taking shape. Also because the Chef’s Table was open and now reserved.
A semi-private table and large enough to seat eight, it had been my first choice. With three walls surrounding it, you could see the dining area unless you closed the thick velvet curtain for complete privacy, which we’d be doing. The Chef’s Table offered the best view of the city so when I fucked her there, she’d do it overlooking the entire nightlife population of Grand Rapids, staying completely quiet so none of the diners could hear her.
My dick hardened until my balls grew tight. I squeezed the tip through my slacks until the pain took the edge off and went back to work.
It didn’t last long. Rebecca’s perfume lingered and within moments, I was back to distracted, consumed by a woman who wanted nothing to do with my lifestyle outside of one night.
Fortunately for me, I knew exactly what to say and do to get someone to see things my way.
* * *
Apparently when it came to my personal life, I wasn’t quite as suave as I was in business. Shocking, really, considering when I walked into Luminous or any bar with a few friends of mine for a drink or two, women flocked to me and batted their eyelashes, rubbed their breasts against my arm to get my attention.
But somehow, that wasn’t exactly the same as trying to get Rebecca Morales’s attention if the arched brow and questioning gaze in her pretty brown eyes was anything to go on.
She gestured toward the cup I’d place on her desk moments ago. “What’s this?”
“Not poison,” I said, before taking a sip of my own drink. It was just like hers. Caramel macchiato. Too sweet for my taste and I sucked the sip down before I cringed. “It’s your favorite coffee from downstairs.”
She blinked. Before she could say anything, I swept my arm across her desk top. Littered all over the top of it were a half dozen identical cups, her name and drink scribbled on them. “You have three of them every day, and when I stopped on my way in this morning I got one for you.”
Her brow furrowed and she pulled her gaze from me to the coffee. I understood her confusion. Ever since I had her make the reservation at The Chop House I’d done a complete one-eighty with the way I was treating her. Probably for the first time since she started working for me, I’d actually told her to have a good night and meant it. I mean, I wanted her to go home and think of me, and get herself off thinking of me, that kind of great night. But I was trying to be respectful.
I wasn’t deterred yesterday when she showed up at work, cleavage baring shirt gone and replaced with her typical attire. I’d missed letting my eyes linger on the backs of her calves, her shapely legs and succulent ass since she was wearing a pair of wide leg trousers. Despite the fact I couldn’t see her curves, my dick still got hard knowing what she was hiding.
So I wasn’t exactly expecting a ticker-tape parade when I slid the coffee on her desk, but Rebecca had never been one to stay silent either.
It was the silent way she turned back to her computer without touching the coffee that sent a curl of regret deep in my stomach.
“Rebecca—” I stopped when her brown eyes, narrowed with frustration hit me like a right hook to the jaw.
“Something you need, Bennett?”
I opened my mouth to say you, but stopped myself. I’d sent her on a large enough roller coaster ride over the last week.
Perhaps she just needed more time to get used to the idea that I could be her boss and be her lover, and do it all without acting like I had a giant rod shoved up my ass.
“Make sure you have everything ready for the two o’clock meeting with Anderson. Be in the conference a half hour early so I have time to review it.”
I pushed off her doorway and went to my office, slamming the door closed with the frustration rolling through me.
Tuesday she’d shown up to work looking like she wanted me to bend her over her desk and fuck her if the outfit was anything to go by.
Yesterday, she’d acted like a complete stranger.
And today...well, I didn’t know what in the hell she was today, but I still had a goal to reach and the path of least resistanc
e was never a fun one, anyway.
I’d get her begging and on her knees by next Friday, and then I’d revel in the victory.
* * *
From the moment the meeting with Anderson Jakobs began, I sat back like I was a spectator. You know what it feels like to realize you’d vastly underestimated your assistant?
Shit. Absolute shit.
Rebecca showed up thirty minutes early like I’d requested. We went through the PowerPoint presentation. She fine-tuned a few details, and the entire time, I didn’t look at her ass or her breasts once.
Score one for me, right? Treat her like a woman and not an object? Chicks dug that shit.
But then Anderson walked in and somehow despite the fact I was the one that gave the proposal, went through the slides, it was like he instinctively knew behind all the hard work, all the vast research and all the preparation, Rebecca had been at the helm of the entire thing.
Perhaps he just liked looking at her breasts, because yeah... I’d seen him watching her. Thing was, she didn’t seem to mind much when she smiled at him in a way I wanted directed at me. Hell, that smile had been directed at me a half dozen times just a few days ago. It was also accompanied by the hazy look of a woman satisfied, but I wasn’t thinking about that part.
Anderson, at least fifteen years older than me and not nearly as fit but not a slob, resettled his wire-framed glasses on his nose and frowned. “I’m still not sure this building plan is the best use of the land’s space.” He rubbed his hand over his chin, his frown deepening.
I leaned forward to step in but Rebecca, without even glancing at me for approval, slid another schematic across the table. “We have other options. Ashby Enterprises prefers the one we gave you due to the building facing the west. The public areas of the retirement community would be getting the afternoon sun, allowing them to enjoy the sunset in the game room and television rooms in the afternoon, or have more warmth while they stroll through the gardens during the summer.”
Gardens? We hadn’t even planned on gardens. I cleared my throat but she ignored me.