by Taryn Quinn
I took the llama mug out of the bag and washed it before turning on my electric kettle at the small kitchen station in the break room. Would serve him right to have tea today.
I took out one of my tea infusers, also a llama and filled the little belly with loose leaves, then set it in the mug and poured hot water over it. I brought it back to my desk with me and while I waited for it to steep, I had a fritter.
The blinds were opened in his office and he kept looking up at me as I ate.
Very, very slowly.
He gave me a hard stare, but I didn’t budge until it was officially nine o’clock.
I licked my middle finger and gave him a wide smile before picking up his mug and the legal pad I used to scribble things on during the day. I went to his door and gave it a sharp rap with my knuckle.
“You know very well I’m waiting for you, Miss Moon.”
I opened the door. “Yes, Mr. Shaw,” I answered with a saccharine smile.
Miss Moon was better than Moonbeam, I supposed. Marginally.
His eyes narrowed at my mug. “What is that?”
“Oh, just a little something to get you through until I can track down that pesky box.” I set it down in the middle of his leather blotter, making sure the llama stared right at him. “How’s Smoky?”
His mouth opened, but no words came out. He frowned. “What?”
“The very active three-legged cat you adopted last night?”
“Oh, right. He’s getting acclimated.”
“In other words, he’s hiding?”
Preston stared hard at the mug. “Yes. I mean, no, he’s only hiding occasionally. He’s eating and his litter pan definitely got used, so he must be okay so far. Have to say that whole cleaning it out thing was a rather unpleasant start to my day.”
“That’s good to hear.”
His eyebrow winged up. “That my morning started unpleasantly?”
“I meant about Smoky doing all right. The unpleasantness is just a side benefit.”
He grunted, still examining the mug as if it contained toxic waste.
I sat down across from him and smoothed out the skirt of my dress, closing my knees and tucking one ankle behind the other in the primmest of poses. I took my pen out of the twist of my hair. “Now what letter did you need me to take care of?”
He was still staring at the llama.
I pressed my lips together. “Mr. Shaw, you needed something?”
See, I could do this whole professional thing. Sort of. And there was only a small amount of sarcasm in my tone.
He touched the mug with a fingertip. “I need to know precisely what this is if you expect me to drink it.”
Oh, for goddess’s sake.
“It’s a mug of tea. Highly caffeinated tea, to be exact. It’s actually better for you than coffee. I picked a blend that is infused with vanilla for sweetness. Though not to your usual level, I imagine.”
“Yes, but what is that?” He pointed at the metal figurine standing in the middle of his mug.
I looked down at my pad and desperately tried not to laugh. “It’s an infuser.”
He peered down at it. “It has a face.”
“It’s a llama. The little neck and head makes it easier for you to take it out of the mug.”
“There’s a llama urinating tea in my mug.”
I barely stopped the snort of laughter. The K-cup burned a hole in my thigh with every laugh I suppressed. “I suppose you could see it that way. Now you have a deposition at eleven and—”
“I know my schedule, Miss Moon.” He sounded exceptionally pissy.
I shouldn’t take such pleasure in bringing it out in him. Obviously, there was something wrong with me. Luckily, tomorrow was my last day, and I wouldn’t have to worry any longer about why I so enjoyed tormenting him.
And kissing him senseless.
“Right.” I had my pen at the ready. “So, how can I assist you?”
He lifted the mug and set it at the edge of his desk like it was contaminated and pulled his keyboard forward. “You’re sure you can’t find the coffee box?”
I heard the hope in his voice and almost reached in my pocket. “Sorry. Not yet.”
He huffed out a near growl. “Fine. I’ll just have to make do. I don’t have time to go to the bakery on my way across town.”
I barely resisted rolling my eyes. Only PMS could make missing coffee pods seem like a calamity.
That they weren’t really missing was neither here nor there.
“You have plenty of time to stop.”
“I still have to revise a few things before I leave.” His fingers flew over his keyboard, those very intelligent eyes skimming the screen even as he rattled off things for me to do while he was gone.
I stuck my hand in my pocket and rolled the little cup around. I felt a bit bad for holding his caffeine from him on a busy day. Maybe I should hand it over.
I’d had my fun.
He frowned at me briefly before resuming his mad typing. “That’s enough for now. You can go, Miss Moon.”
I nodded briefly and stood. He wasn’t getting it with that attitude. The dude brought a whole new meaning to the words hot and cold.
Last night, he’d made out with me in his car and pretended he wanted to know everything about me down to my favorite color. Now he was back to all business. Or maybe he didn’t like that I’d been chatting with his brother.
Who even knew?
I shrugged it off. If he wanted to keep things strictly professional in the office, I could handle that. And then after tomorrow, he was officially back to being April’s problem.
“Miss Moon, don’t you think that skirt is a little…brief?” He sounded strangled.
My fingers curled around the doorknob. “It’s perfectly respectable.” Okay, maybe a little less so since I was almost six feet tall with my heels on. “I’ve seen a far shorter skirt on your father’s admin.”
It was a low blow and I knew he was sensitive about the whole situation with his dad. But right now, I wasn’t above taking shots where I could.
Not when he left me edgy and wondering what the hell his game was. If anything.
I could practically hear his jaw grinding. “She’s irrelevant.”
“And I’m only a temporary assistant, and it’s almost ninety-seven degrees today.” I opened the door and let it slam behind me.
Go ahead and fire me, PMS.
It was probably the best thing he could do for both of us.
Sixteen
I didn’t speak to him for the rest of the morning. He’d left the office promptly thirty minutes before his appointment and barely looked at me on his way by.
I finished his To Do list in record time, mostly because I was fueled by anger and a touch of guilt. Acclimating Smoky to his new home had probably killed some of his sleeping. But his general stick-up-the-assery was enough to keep me from feeling too bad about it.
There were no other clients due in the office until late afternoon so I escaped to the records room with my earbuds to play rage rock while I chipped my way through the 2000’s.
I was well into the L names before I flipped off my heels and ended up cross-legged on one of the executive chairs PMS had put in the room for me.
I’d moved on from my rage playlist to true crime. I was mentally knee deep in the horrific story of Willie Pickton when something white and gold landed in the center of the Lyle folder.
It rolled onto its side until the label for Preston’s caramel confection K-cup stared at me.
I looked up to find him looming over me, his knuckles resting on the table. His muscular forearms were tight with annoyance, the white sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and he’d lost his suit coat—leaving him only in that damn vest.
My nipples instantly tightened.
Damn traitors.
I flicked out my earbuds and the ladies from the Morbid podcast stopped talking.
He tipped his head, his dark eyes gl
ittering. “What is that?”
I picked up the K-cup. “Columbian Coconut-Caramel blend,” I read aloud then set it in front of him.
“And why is it not at my coffee station?”
I laced my fingers on top of the file. “Not sure. I only had one in my pocket.”
“In your—”
I unearthed the warmer one that was still in the pocket of my dress. I’d actually forgot about it while I was working. “Look at that, now you have two. Okay, forty-eight if you want to get technical.” I gave him a brief smile.
He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, making his arms bulge with all those muscles that just didn’t compute for such a desk jockey.
“Maybe you should have one now, and it will put you in a better mood.” I frowned. “The box is under my desk—how did you get this one?”
“My brother chucked one at my head when we were arguing about who was going to take the Donnelly case.”
I winced. Mary Donnelly had been particularly vicious when she’d come in earlier in the week. “Your brother shouldn’t have been under my desk.”
Preston’s jaw flexed, and I was pretty sure he was going to crush his molars. “That is not the point. And why exactly aren’t you manning the phones?”
“Because I’m manning all this.” I gestured to the stacks of files before tapping the K-cup from my pocket. “Look, it was just a little fun. You were being all rude and PMS-y.”
“Would you cease and desist with that name?”
“It’s your name.”
“It is not.” He brushed the pods to the side and leaned over my table, his long fingers curling over the lip right in front of me. “Preston. Say it.”
My heartbeat thundered between my ears. Or was it my thighs?
His gaze never wavered even though I was pretty sure I was the definition of having heaving bosoms at the moment. I’d been perfectly comfortable ten minutes ago in the air conditioned room, and now my skin was dotted with a light sheen of sweat.
I swallowed and couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward. What was it about the alpha side of this man that made me all…stupid? There was no other word for it.
Our lips were an inch apart. “No.”
He shoved the table out of the way and I gasped. He stepped into the empty space and hauled me up into his arms.
Startled, I grabbed at his shoulders. God, he was so damn hot under the fine cotton and silk blend.
He swung me around and set me on the table. It didn’t put us on an even playing field. If anything, I was even more trapped. He stepped between my thighs, drawing his fingers gently under my knee to lift it up and around his hip.
“I’ll find a way to get you to say it.”
“I’ve used your name before.” I was pretty sure I didn’t always use his initials. But right now, my brain was a fog of lust and white noise.
He tipped me back a little so he had the upper hand. The placket of his trousers rubbed over the cotton panties I was wearing in deference to the inferno of heat outside. At this point, it was inside too.
So, we’d apparently reached the hot portion of the day’s agenda.
His fingers dug into my thigh as he widened my legs a little more to fit his hard shaft against the center of me. “You’re so fucking irritating,” he said against my lips.
I smiled. “You like it.” My gaze dropped to his mouth. The puff of cinnamon on his breath made my lips tingle. I braced myself on the table and didn’t touch him. I was certain if I did, I wouldn’t stop. “We’re at work, PMS.”
Poke the lion much, Ry?
Well, something was poking back. And I wanted it inside me, dammit.
“I don’t fucking care.” He slanted his lips over mine, his other hand at my lower back, dragging me closer until we were nearly conjoined.
His finery to my muslin.
His muscles to my softness.
His former resolution obliterating mine.
I hooked my knee higher on his hip, bringing the other one up to hold on for good measure. My fingers fumbled for his red tie and the buttons on his vest, but I couldn’t seem to get anything to work.
Finally, he leaned back and took care of both.
I couldn’t stop staring as his impressive shoulders seemed even larger as he dropped his tie into my chair and stripped off his vest.
My inertia dissolved at the first glimpse of his throat, then a sliver of toned belly as he jerked the tails of his shirt out of his pants. I tunneled my fingers under the fabric, my nails scraping his skin on the way up until I found his nipple.
He hissed and jerked at the tiny buttons on the front of my dress. “You have the most magnificent breasts on this planet.”
I laughed. “Let’s not go that far, pal.”
He pushed the material aside and cupped one with his long fingers, his thumb brushing over the tip that was trying to tear its way out of my lacy demi-cup. And those deliciously long fingers didn’t waste any time. He tugged down the half cup and then covered my nipple with his mouth.
I arched back and wished to hell this room was soundproofed. I’d been so damn wound up for so long that I didn’t know if I could keep quiet.
He sucked strongly on my nipple, letting it pop free only to blow on it and flick his tongue along the aching tip. He smiled at me, but it wasn’t a reassuring smile.
It was…wolfish.
I was prey.
And I wasn’t quite sure I was ready for any of this.
The urge to push him away and escape overwhelmed the pleasure for a moment. There was no going back after this.
No way that I could say it was just a fluke between us.
But maybe if we got this out of the way here, I could end the week and put all of this behind me. Put him behind me.
Because while it felt amazing right now, we didn’t fit. He’d probably go back to treating me like his pesky assistant as soon as the sweat dried.
Too bad I didn’t care.
His mouth raced over my skin as he peeled my dress apart. His nose pushed aside my amethyst crystal until the chain looped over my other breast. His teeth scraped down my belly to the elastic at the top of my panties.
He pulled it away and let it snap back, making me gasp from the quick bite of pain as he straightened.
I was literally splayed out over his files, my dress completely unbuttoned at this point. He undid his shirt and hauled it off, sending it flying.
Mercy. I dragged in a breath as I took him in.
I’d had my hands on him, but always over clothes. I’d never seen what was hiding under those proper suits and dress shirts. He was smooth save for a light bit of fur over his pecs and a line of hair above his belt.
He was endless golden skin with the kind of lean muscles that came from running or one of those home gym kinds of things. Honed from years of discipline. Because this man was nothing if not disciplined in every aspect of his life.
From his work ethic, to his responsibilities, I was pretty sure he’d never taken a lazy day on the couch to watch trash television and eat a pint of ice cream.
He stepped closer to me and pulled up my foot to rest on his chest as he lightly trailed his fingertips over my ankle bracelet. “Where did you go?”
I shook my head. “I was just thinking your responsible side is going to freak out right after we’re done here.”
“This is only the start, Miss Moon.” He used his foot to drag the chair up behind him as he sat down. He drew my ankle higher to his shoulder. “I love how tall you are.” He kissed his way down my inner thigh, opening me as he got closer. “How you smell.”
I fell back on my elbows. “This isn’t a good idea.”
He scooted forward and stretched me open. “Isn’t that my line?”
“Yes, why I’m trying to remind you…fuck.”
He tugged my panties aside and lightly licked over the skin just beside my slit. “Oh, yes. We’ll get to that, but first, we’ll have to see if I can get you to say my na
me.”
I dropped my head back. “Don’t bet on it.”
Then his mouth did all the talking for him as well as those very, very disciplined fingers. I stared at the ceiling tiles above us and tried to hold out.
I’d meditated away my fear through a tornado in Kansas when my mother left me in our van. I’d made it through that, I could make it through this.
He wouldn’t break me.
I let myself open to the pleasure. Relaxing my body by degrees and put the future in a box and shoved it at the back of my mind. Embrace the now.
Embrace the moment.
I arched off the table as he slipped two of those long fingers inside of me, stretching me and drinking from me. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see what he was doing.
If I didn’t let him in, I’d be okay.
“Ryan. Look at me.”
His deep, rough voice broke down the walls, obliterated the box. He started up at me as he sealed his mouth around me, his tongue lightly pulsing against my clit as he thrust into me with his fingers.
I needed more than that.
I needed him.
But my body detonated anyway. I reached down and raked my fingers through his thick hair to hold him there. I bucked up against him and his name was a burn on my tongue.
We stared each other down.
Tears raced down my temples and I bowed up as the orgasm razed me like a forest fire. My whole body was ash and destruction for that single moment.
Then he was gone.
A second later, I was being pulled up and found myself face to face with wild brown eyes that held determination and the strain of something else. Something I couldn’t—wouldn’t—name.
He tugged me down on his lap and the tip of his latex-covered cock scraped along my swollen slit. Damn, he felt delicious against me. He curled his fingers around the back of my neck and held me up completely straight as he slowly lowered me onto him.
My mouth opened on a soundless cry as he invaded me until there was nothing but our bodies making way for one another. Me, opened wide, and him swallowed whole in one greedy thrust.
I held onto his shoulders, my nails biting into flesh as I rocked against him. The friction and overwhelming fullness and my sensitivity from my first orgasm fuzzed my brain.
