She gives a sad smile. “Too bad. It was fun while it lasted.” She peers at the clock on her wall. “For less than twenty-four hours.”
I scoff. “Hey, now. Don’t count us short. We should start the clock from that first fateful moment in the shop on the corner when we met. So, we had the moment in the store, then we talked online, then we went to Gin Joint, then we had last night, then we texted and talked this morning.”
“Whoa. We’ve had an entire modern relationship in three days.”
“Exactly. And my records say . . .” I make a show of looking at my watch. “It was right about ten fifteen on a Friday morning when we locked eyes.”
“Then that means it was fun for three days and one epic night.”
I need to stop, but I don’t pump the brakes just yet. “One absolutely epic night that I very much wanted to do again.” I linger on those words like I’d wanted to linger on her this Friday. I hold her gaze, driven to speak the truth. If I can’t have her, at least I can have a touch of the honesty we shared, the honesty I’d missed those last few years of my marriage.
“Listen, Bryn. You need to know I wanted to see you for more than the sex. Maybe that sounds crazy, since we only spent one night together. But I really liked talking to you. I liked how we were together. I liked how it felt to be with you.”
“I liked all that too, Logan. A lot,” she says, soft and breathy, dipping into that submissive zone she likes to inhabit in the bedroom.
That connection between us, the intense attraction, sparks up again. I lower my voice even more, my eyes full of intent. “And I also loved fucking you.”
She shivers, biting the corner of her lip. Oh, hell. That’s the woman I had on the couch last night. That’s the woman who wants me to do bad things to her.
“I loved it too,” she says softly. “I had a few things I was hoping we could try on Friday.” There’s a touch of coyness in her tone that gets the attention of my dick.
Well, in that organ’s defense, my dick was already sitting up just from being near her.
And that’s why I should cut this conversation off at the knees. I should be the cool, composed businessman.
And yet . . . I don’t want to.
“I’m pretty sure I’d have loved doing all those things to you.”
She picks up a pen, twirls it, and shoots me a flirty stare from across her desk. “How do you know you’d have loved it?”
I lean forward, elbows on my thighs. “Because you and I like to fuck the same way.”
Twirl goes the pen. Dark go her eyes. She kicks her heel back and forth, and I don’t resist staring at her legs for a few seconds. “Inappropriate” is my new middle name.
“We do. We did,” she says, emphasis on the past tense. “And it’s a damn shame, Logan. Because sleeping with my new boss would be a terrible, terrible decision.”
Maybe it’s the two “terribles.”
Perhaps it’s the naughty glimmer in her eyes.
Or it could be that a part of me was dormant for a decade. Whatever the reason, I don’t stop the flirty, dirty tease with Bryn. I inch closer. Her desk is between us—a barrier that’ll keep me out of trouble. “It would be completely terrible,” I say in a tone that makes it clear that sex with her would be the opposite.
“Absolutely awful,” she says, punctuating those words with sensuality, like she’s murmuring lace or satin.
“The worst thing ever.”
All I want to do is walk around the desk, bend down, and park my hands on the arms of her chair. Kiss her till she melts under me. Till her back bows and she’s grabbing at my shirt, begging me to put her on her desk and take her.
I lick my lips, marching full speed into danger. “The only worse idea would be lifting you up on that desk right now.”
Her eyes flicker with flames. Her voice is laced with invitation. “What would you do with me there?”
Fuck appropriate for a few more seconds. Just fuck it hard. “Hike up your skirt. Pin your hands behind you. Pull your hair nice and tight.”
“And then?” Her breath comes faster.
I lean closer to her desk, parking my elbow on it. I run my finger along the empty rim of her mug, the Obi-Wan wine one, my gaze never straying from hers. “Give it to you the way you want.”
“And what way is that?” Her eyes stay locked with mine, and I swear sex and desire are written in her irises. They’re teased on her lips. They’re in the flush of the skin on her chest, that patch of softness above the buttons on her blouse. So soft and tempting, and I want to dip my face and kiss and touch and lick.
I stare at her lush lips then her gorgeous eyes. “I bet you’d want me to take you hard, wrap your legs so damn tight around me. Put my hand on your mouth to cover your moans. Pull your hair and jerk your head back. Fuck you till you bite my hand because it feels so damn good when I’m inside you, owning you.”
A dangerous sound slips from her lips, a needy gasp. She lets her eyes flutter closed, presses her teeth against her lips, then breathes out, words catching on her breath. “Own me. Yes, own me.”
“God, I want to, Bryn. I want to so much.”
“Me too.”
She lifts her hand languidly, brings it to the exposed skin of her chest, then lets it trail down her flesh, almost as if she can’t help herself, like she can’t resist touching her own body right here in front of me. “Do you like that, Logan?”
I stare shamelessly, my skin on fire. “I do. So fucking much,” I say, and my body heats up to center-of-the-earth levels.
I’m not a stupid man, and I know this is beyond dangerous.
But technically, we’re not doing anything.
We’re simply talking.
