Broken Boundaries (The Debonair Series Book 1)

by TC Matson

  My pulse is slamming against my temples, throbbing in my ears. “You startled me. When did you get here?”

  “Ten minutes ago.”

  “How’d you get past me?”

  “You weren’t at your desk. I assumed you had left.”

  I take a deep calming breath—in through my nose and out through my mouth—to settle my edgy nerves. I pick up the report and hold it up. “Here’s the revenue…” I trail off, caught off guard by how dark and fixated his gaze is as he approaches me.

  It’s so intense, my skin prickles. I clear my throat, trying to relieve the tightness. “Lauren said the department has been having transposing issues with a certain employee,” I fumble, mentally freaking the hell out at his close proximity.

  When he glances at the papers, I take another breath.

  Instead of taking an easy step to the side to put the report back on his desk, he steps closer to me. One sway, one soft movement and I’ll be pressed against his body. I freeze. My heart is battering my chest under his predatory glare. My breath comes faster as I watch him watch me with dilated and dark eyes.

  He bends, bringing his mouth closer to mine, but pauses. My body is on fire. My heart chaotic. My desire streaks through my body.

  His nostrils flare. His jaw ticks. And then…a landslide of fervid arousal as he presses his lips on mine. His tongue glides across my lips and I part, allowing him to have it all. A groan vibrates from his throat as a strong hand rakes through my hair and draws me closer. I submit to all my fantasies and dig my fingers into his chest.

  “I’ve wanted to taste these lips since the first day you walked into my office. You’re all I can fucking think about,” he whispers breathlessly, his words thick.

  He slams back into my mouth, harder, more urgent and grips the side of my head, deepening the kiss.

  My body limbers against his. I drag my hands across his ribs and cling onto his back. Our breaths are fast and I release a faint moan as he presses his body into mine, pushing his hips against me.

  And it rocks me. My mind digs its heels in and I break the kiss. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

  I may be thinking it, but my body isn’t registering. I take back to his mouth, scraping my fingers through his hair.

  “You won’t lose your job,” he mumbles impatiently and comes back for the kiss.

  This time he’s full of fervor and more ardent.

  My entire body reacts. My legs turn to rubber as fire lights up every cell in my body. He backs us up until my ass leans on his desk and he presses his hard…very hard dick into me. I suck in a breath. If I’m on the verge of an orgasm from a kiss, I can’t imagine…

  The reality busts through my desire. “Easton…I can’t do this,” I choke out. “Not with you. You’ll throw me away.”

  “You won’t be tossed.” He nips my bottom lip and it rolls my eyes. “Less thinking. More feeling,” he says roughly.

  He drags his lips along my jawline and flicks his tongue across my earlobe before drawing it between his teeth. I dig my palms over his chest, up and around the back of his neck and grip it as if my life depended on it.

  “I bet you’re wet for me.” Blazing dark green irises watch me as he slides his hand up my skirt and moves my panties to the side. The moment his fingers graze against my wet folds, I release a needy whimper.

  His left brow quirks up. “So fucking wet. Fuck.” His lips graze across mine. “If you want me to stop, you have to tell me now,” he says against my skin.

  I yank him to my mouth without protest. Every ounce of air is stolen from my lungs, and I gasp, breaking the kiss when he presses his fingers into me. I fist his shirt, rake my fingers over his shoulders, and scrape through his hair. I’m wild. Needing. Begging. Desperate.

  He laves along my neck, driving his hand into me. A surge of heat consumes me, coursing through my limbs one by one.

  “I’m…” I can’t finish as he drives deeper. I cling to him.

  “You’re what, Zoey?” His tone is so damn hot with need mumbling against my neck.

  Silky heat starts at my head and stings my skin to my toes. He pumps, circling my clit with his thumb, bringing me to unbearable heights. And then…

  It’s a freefall. I mewl, rocking against his hand. He groans against my neck, thrusting his fingers into me. Gripping his shoulders, I bury my face into the crook of his neck and moan wildly.

  I begin to slowly gathering my bearings, our breaths still erratic and heated as he kisses me tenderly. He straightens himself with a presumptuous smirk and then slowly sucks me off his fingers.

  Arousing as it may be, gravity is a bitch and it slams me back to earth. “Oh my God.” I hide my face in my hands, scrambling to my feet. “I can’t believe I did that. I’ve…I’ve got to go.” I push past him, racing toward the door.

  He grabs my elbow, stopping me. His eyes burning… “Don’t go.”

  I blink back tears. “You’re my boss.” My whisper cracks. “There’s nothing good going to come out of this for me.”

  I pull my arm free from his hand and on wobbly legs, I leave. I snatch my purse up and sprint to the elevator, repeatedly slapping the down arrow until the doors slide open and I dart in. He calls my name, but it’s too late. The elevator is descending.

  Dashing out of the building, I abandon the idea of taking the train and decide to take the longest walk of shame in history.

  “I royally fucked up,” I cry to Britney when she answers her phone. “Big time.”

  “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

  “Close enough. God, Brit. I’m such an idiot. I just threw away my career.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she argues.

  “How am I supposed to go back and face him?”

  “Focus on the bad?” she says.

  “What if there weren’t any?”

  “Oh. That good, huh?”

  “And we didn’t even have sex,” I whisper-yell into the phone, mad at myself. “Brit, what the hell am I going to do? I can’t quit. I can’t afford it.”

  She groans a hum. “Talk to him. Hash it out. Maybe tell him all the reasons this won’t work and ask him to go back to the way it was.”

  I roll my eyes. “Even you don’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.”

  “I’m trying here!” she exclaims with a snicker.

  “I know. I’ll figure it out. I’ve got a long walk ahead of me.”

  “Ah. The infamous walk of shame. Have you ever journeyed one?” She cackles and instantly guilt inundates me. “Look, it’s going to be fine. Surely, you two can work past this. You’re both so wound up for each other…” she trails off. “I’m envious of you.”

  I laugh under my breath.

  “You’ll figure it out, Zoe.”

  “Yeah…” I breathe. “I’ll call you later.”

  “I’m here if you need me,” she ends the call.

  There’s nothing superlative about walking the busy streets of downtown after being finger banged by my insanely hot boss. Now, he’s seen me at my most vulnerable, my most intimate. And I have to figure out how the hell I’m going to look him in the eyes.

  Easton

  I don’t regret yesterday. Not one sexy moan, sweet tasting bit. She was titillating as hell with her parted lips, panting breaths, right up to when her eyes rolled and her skin flushed. She buried her head to try to drown out her erotic moan. Seeing her lose herself against my hand was unbelievable. Gorgeous as it murdered my nuts. Choked them so tightly, I almost lost my fucking load in my pants as she squirmed with the shudders. My dick throbbed so hard for her. I knew I’d have her ass on the desk, driving into her.

  That’s until she got into her head.

  After she darted out of the office, I rushed behind her and drove to her apartment. I parked where she wouldn’t notice me and waited until I watched her enter about twenty minutes later.

  I went home—alone—with her on my mind. The normal hustle and bustle of my life has transformed into
quiet. My standard friend-saturated life replaced by the noiseless end of the night. Fleeting moments of emptiness have ambushed my thoughts like a neverending void, one that has started consuming everything. I cherish the quiet, but I relish the loud.

  I had hoped the urges, the aches for her would’ve dissipated over time, but instead, they intensified. She holds a spell binding power and it reaches into my chest. She’s already got so much of me it’s threatening…

  She’s the perfect blend of spicy and sweet, bold and reserved. She’s got a heart of gold, and a melodic laughter. The little things are catching my attention. My attraction to her isn’t just purely physical—although fucking her on my desk is my top fantasy. Whatever this shit is, it’s got a damn death grip on me. I don’t know what it is about her, but deep from within the depths of my soul, she fucking excites every fiber of my being. I need her, to feel her, to have her. I want her as mine.

  I step out of the elevator, fully anticipating seeing Zoey, except I’m only greeted by an empty desk. A heaviness falls on my shoulders, tumbling into my chest, and exasperation laces my sigh. I shrug out of my jacket, toss it over the back of my leather chair, and drop into it like a log. I drag my hands over my face. Between my long night of thinking about her, and still buzzing from the thrill of seeing her explode on my hand, I didn’t sleep for shit.

  Out of the corner of my eye, steam catches my attention. I grin at the full coffee mug with elation spreading throughout me. She’s here.

  As I lay in bed last night thinking of her, I devised a simple plan—embed myself into her thoughts. Wedge myself into her life. Wear her down and somehow, show her this playboy bachelor hasn’t playboyed himself around town for a long time. I’m desperate for her to see that her optimism, generous, soft and tender hearted ways have awoken something deep inside me.

  I busy myself for an hour before emerging at her desk. Her head is down as she writes and she freezes when she senses my presence. Her back snaps tight, her hands still when I place my palms on her desk.

  She doesn’t look up and it makes me chuckle. “I think we need to talk.”

  Her body deflates, her shoulders slumping before ever so slowly looking up to me. Immediately, she blushes past the anger in her eyes. “If it isn’t about work, there won’t be a conversation.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I challenge her. “It is.”

  She bites a smile. “You have a two o’clock appointment with Mr. Calloway and a three o’clock with Mr. Derwent.”

  I match her grin. “I have a right now with Miss Campbell,” I jerk my hand toward my door, pointing. “As in right now.”

  Quietly, she huffs before ambling her sexy mad ass into my office and sits in the chair across from my desk.

  I take a seat in my leather throne. “Did you think of what might have happened if you didn’t run out of here yesterday?”

  Her cheeks fire up and she tucks her chin, dropping her view to her lap. “You said this was about work.”

  “And I wasn’t lying. Everything that happened, happened right here.” I tap my knuckles against the wood. “In my office. I assure you it’s work related.”

  “Please don’t do this to me,” she whispers, lifting her pleading hazel eyes to me. “It shouldn’t have happened. I’m embarrassed down to my soul.”

  I scrape my teeth along my bottom lip. “You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  I watch her throat work as she swallows hard. “You’re my boss, Easton. My boss… You employ me. Last night shouldn’t have happened.” She closes her eyes. “Please, Easton…”

  My name falls from her lips with so much pleading anguish, it cramps my chest. She blinks back tears, her face wilted with shame.

  And it pisses me off.

  “I’ll need a refill soon.” My tone drips bitterly cold. “Zach’s coming for a business lunch. Call in the meatballs you’ve ordered before. If I loved them, so will he.”

  She never looks up as she nods and starts to leave.

  Urgency snaps in my chest. An imperativeness to show her how much I need her courses my soul. I spring out of my seat in a flash and grasp her elbow. “Zoey. I’m a tenacious sonofabitch when I set my mind to something. I don’t know what it is about you or why I want you so fucking enormously, but I’m determined to find out.”

  Her eyes are red from her tears when she snaps them to me. “It’s the chase, Easton. I’m not falling at your feet and begging you to be with me. I don’t need the bragging rights. I’m not interested in late night phone calls for sex. It’s not who I am.”

  “Precisely, Zoey. I’m not out to hurt you.”

  She removes her arm. “It may not be your intention, but we all know you will and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that heartache.” Her bottom lip quivers as she speaks and then she hurries out, shutting the door quietly behind her.

  Two hours later, she doesn’t knock, just barges in with the bouquet of pink lilies and purple irises I sent. She sets them in the middle of my desk, on top of everything and right in front of me. Her thinned eyes carry enough spite it causes my skin to hurt. She storms back out and my amusement turns into a chuckle. I should’ve thought the flower thing through.

  The next to enter my office isn’t the blonde bombshell I was hoping for. Instead, I’m greeted by the arrogant smile of Zach.

  “Someone sent you beautiful flowers.” His laugh is flavored with sarcasm. “Thought you were dead set on Z?” He throws his thumb over his shoulder toward the door.

  I tip my chin to the vase. “They’re hers.”

  “The point is to give them to her. Not admire them yourself, you narcissistic dickhead.” He smirks like a smug ass.

  I lift a brow and blow out a breath.

  Realization registers in his peanut brain. “She gave them back?” he sputters with a belly laugh, shaking his head and slapping his leg. “What the hell have you done that caused her to give back the flowers? Must’ve been something big.”

  “She’s just leery of me,” I answer honestly, moving to the table.

  Zach spreads out a set of blueprints. “Do you blame her?”

  “She’ll come around.”

  “Or you’ll find another interest,” he says casually. “You’ve been celibate for too long trying to prove a hopeless point. Your dick will go in search for something to dip into soon.”

  I snap a glower at him and then tap the table to change the course of the subject. “Provident?”

  He shakes his head. “I was propositioned with Mid-City last week. Estimation of renovation completed in eight months. They want to gut the entire building down to its studs and revamp. There’s no security, burglary, or fire. Figured I’d let you take a peek before it hits the desks of everyone else. You’d be contracted through me. Oh, and fair warning. The architect is a prickly bastard, vain and just a plain asshole.”

  I don’t mind assholes. “Start date?”

  “We roll in two weeks from Monday.”

  “My crew wouldn’t begin for another few months. They’d get a floor done every two to three days, depending on the design,” I think out loud.

  “If you don’t think you can do it, I can always go to Edgerdale Alarms.”

  Jesus, he’s being a smug shithead.

  “I need to get with the PMs.” I slap his shoulder. “Give me until tomorrow afternoon to give you a definite answer.”

  He rolls up the set of prints and grabs the one I’m excited for. Spreading them down, we begin to go over the details when there’s a light tap on the door. Zoey carries four large Styrofoam containers and sets them on the opposite side of the table without casting a glance to us. She disappears into my closet and returns with two bottles of water.

  “I included salad too. Do you need anything else?” When she finally looks at me there’s a whirlwind of perturbation.

  I grin in an attempt to ease her. “No. Thank you.”

  Zach pivots to her. “Do you like working here?” I jerk my head toward him
, but he continues. “My assistant isn’t nearly as nice and thoughtful as you. She doesn’t do the considerate gestures and she sure as fuck wouldn’t grab me something to drink when it’s in the same room. We’ve already established you work for an asshole. You could come work for me. I’m positive you’ll be more appreciated. In fact, I’d probably kiss the ground you walk on.”

  “What the fuck?” I scathe, squaring him up with my fists balled.

  He levels me with a cold sly smirk.

  “Thank you, Zachary,” Zoey rushes out trying to diffuse the tension. “I’m happy with my job. But if things get weird, I’ll call you.” She blinks back to me.

  Rage is boiling just under the surface of my skin, but I remain composed until she leaves. I’m going to snap his neck. “What the fuck, man?” I slam my palms into his chest.

  He laughs…fucking laughs. “Calm your tits. You needed to hear that. Whatever has her unable to look at you hasn’t made it to her head. The fact she’s not considered quitting should make you happy.”

  “Fucking smartass,” I grumble, opening the food.

  Placing two of my meatballs and a part of my salad on an extra plate, I leer at Zach’s stupid grinning face. “I’ll be right back.”

  She’s typing, her face toward the computer screen when I place the food on her desk. “I know you like these too and I’m positive you didn’t order yourself a thing.”

  She opens her mouth to say something, but I don’t stick around to hear it. It’s only going to be an argument laced with every excuse as to why she shouldn’t accept it. And I’m not in the mood to hear any of it.

  “Aw. Easty pooh is seriously crushing,” Zach quips, flippantly. “Tell me. What has happened to have her beet red and unable to look at you?” He shoves a bite of meatball into his mouth.

  “A slip up.”

  Both his brows jump high. He yanks his plate up, his eyes bulging at the table. “Am I eating on Z juice?”

  I want to punch the fuck out of him. “No, you dickhead.”

  “Oh. It didn’t get that far. So close yet so far away,” he says like he knows. “And judging by your attitude, I’m certain your dick is begging for attention. You don’t do well when you’re undersexed.”