Rules of Engagement
Page 26
I’m here.
Tapping my thumbnail against the screen, I peeked up searching for the cameras. In the time I’d worked here, I was never able to find them. Following Trevor’s arrest, the cameras in my apartment had been removed by the police, however Donovan had insisted they weren’t the same type he used. With a smirk on his face, he’d told me that I would never find the cameras in the office, and I hated to admit he was right. That’s what you get when dating a man whose life is built around technology. You either learned to live with it, and learned to laugh at it, or you didn’t.
You’re ten minutes late. One would think you’d learn punctuality, Ms. Jennings. You know the consequences.
A shiver coursed up my spine, not the same type that I’d felt when first coming to work for Donovan, but another kind that left me breathless and boneless, a woman whimpering beneath the promise of his skilled hands and focused attention. This morning, I hadn’t intended to be late, but that’s not to say I hadn’t accidentally failed to be punctual on other mornings.
Are you going to take me into your office and reprimand me?
I knew he was laughing, I could see that brilliant smile of his in my mind.
You know the rules.
Rolling my eyes, I thought of Rule number three in our new romance, a rule I hated, a rule that drove me to the edge of insanity every single day, but I’d learned to live with because of what it meant for the evening hours that Donovan and I spent together.
Just open the door and let me in. I have a phone conference I need to attend.
I’d accepted Donovan’s offer to lead his small marketing department, and as head of the team, it was my job to oversee all the outside contracts with other firms. Donovan was a genius when it came to programming. His reputation preceded him throughout the world, and as such, he didn’t need much in the way of targeted marketing. But he did allow me to offer a small contract to Clayton Jones for the specific reason of driving my former employer crazy. If I said jump, Clayton had to ask how high, and he had to do so in order to earn the pennies I was offering him. I didn’t take advantage too often, but I’d be a liar to say I didn’t give Clayton a hard time when the opportunity presented itself. In a way, that reversal in roles had been good for me. It had taught me that although people may try to hold you back, they may try to belittle you and kick you while you’re down, life sometimes had other plans in store and those same people would find themselves licking your boots after fate stepped in to deal with them.
Karma is a beautiful thing.
The door to the back room opened and my breath caught in my chest to see Donovan’s professional mask in place, his black hair framing his strong jaw, his lips pulled into a thin disapproving line, but his blue eyes blazing with the type of heat that made my thighs squeeze together at the sight of it. Leaning against the door, he gave me just enough room to pass, and as our bodies brushed together, he reached out to pinch my ass.
Spinning in place, I swatted at his hand and reprimanded him. “Mr. Stone, I would appreciate it if you remembered rule number three and conducted yourself accordingly.”
Rule No. 3: No hanky panky in the office. We are to conduct ourselves in a professional manner and keep our hands to ourselves.
He smiled and inclined his head, watching me with a hawk-like stare as I added an extra sway to my hips and crossed the room to my desk. Hearing his door shut behind me, I picked up the phone and got to work.
Donovan was in a playful mood that day. He’d taken every opportunity to touch me inappropriately, had brushed past me to whisper words about what he planned to do to me after work. He’d driven me crazy because all I wanted him to do was break that damn rule, drag me into his office, and show me exactly what he was thinking every time I walked past.
At four that afternoon, Donovan had left work early, a grin tugging at my lips because his early departure meant he could be anywhere, at any time, and while he was free to roam, I would never be safe.
I worked late that night, not leaving the office again until the sun was setting and the sidewalks were mostly deserted of the last stragglers leaving their buildings.
It was on nights such as this, that a new game could be played.
I’d almost made it to my car, when I was snatched from the sidewalk, dragged into the shadows and pressed against a wall.
His grip was strong around my wrist, his palm warm over my parted lips. What little sound I could force from my body was muffled by the heat of his skin, the rough texture of a callused hand. As panic gripped my heart with its crushing fingers, I knew the man who held me was far too smart to let me scream.
The brick of the building was painful against my cheek, my body pinned between his heat and the cold, unforgiving surface.
Leaning over, he ignored my struggle, didn’t care that one of my heels had been left on the sidewalk just feet from my car. Tipped over on its side, that heel was now useless to lift me up to a height anywhere near as tall as his body.
His mouth pressed against my ear. “Scream and I’ll make this slow.”
Was it wrong that a shiver coursed through me?
My skirt flipped up, his boots kicked my feet apart, and his hand pressed against my skull until I was helpless but to remain still.
Large hands explored me, steady breath was a beat at my back and before long, the panties I wore were discarded fabric around my ankles, locking me in place even more.
Instead of screaming, I stood silent.
Instead of fighting, I endured the burn of his touch.
And as his body sunk into mine, as he took control of me as easily as a predator does his prey, Donovan’s lips pressed against my ear, his breath hard and shallow from the excitement in the games we played.
“I told you there were consequences, Ms. Jennings. For being late,” he said, his body thrusting against mine. “For breaking the rules.” Another thrust. “For teasing me with those little red heels of yours that you know I love so much.”
A moan escaped my throat at the deep, smooth baritone of his voice.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I said while playing along, “I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Anything,” he breathed out, his hips moving faster as we both were pushed to a climax.
Nodding my head, I’d lost the ability to think, much less talk.
A whisper against my ear, he said, “Come home with me tonight. I want to do this to you again.”
I would have laughed if I didn’t orgasm, would have kissed him if I wasn’t in the middle of one of our twisted games.
Because although I’d hated the idea of being constantly watched when it had been a stranger following me, I couldn’t deny I liked the idea of it being Donovan.
He was a man who’d driven me crazy with his criticism and constant pestering. He was a man I respected for everything he’d achieved. And he was a man I could play with in shadowed alleys and dark forbidden places, because I knew he was the man who would always keep me safe.
I wasn’t the same woman I’d been several months ago. And for that, for the role he’d played in helping me live again, for all the rules he’d given me, I’d fallen in love with a haunted, enigmatic man named Donovan Stone, and I’d broken his rules of engagement, one by one.
THE END
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nbsp; Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
Chapter Nine
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
EPILOGUE