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Resisting the Boss: Office Suspense Romance (Dirty Hot Resistance Series Book 4)

Page 6

by Emelia Blair


  I realize that I’m truly losing my mind when I mutter, “It doesn’t have to be a stranger.”

  Her eyes grow wide as she opens her mouth and closes it, as if she’s unable to form the words. “Y- Are you volunteering?”

  “No!” I want a sinkhole to open up under my feet and swallow me whole.

  “Then what the hell are you saying?” There’s an odd quality to her tone.

  My mind is a jumble of feelings and ideas with contradictions and desires. I can’t seem to sort them out with her standing in front of me. “Nothing,” I growl, running frustrated fingers through my hair.

  “So you want me to have sex with a random stranger?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Then why would you say that?”

  Fearing that my mind is seconds away from exploding, I jab a finger in her direction. “I’m taking you home whether you like it or not! Either you walk or I throw you over my shoulder and we go!”

  Halley’s eyes widen at my statement and her cheeks flush.

  It takes me a second to realize the implication behind my words and I rub my hands over my face, groaning, “That’s not what I meant!” When she just stares at me, her entire face red, I bark out, flustered, “Just get your goddamn stuff!”

  Halley obeys, uncharacteristically obedient.

  I snatch my bike keys and open the door for her.

  She doesn’t meet my eyes, her ears red, as she walks past me.

  I have a feeling this is going to come bite me in the ass.

  In the parking garage, Halley stares at my bike. “We’re going home on that?”

  I run my hands over my monstrous beauty, and feel defensive. “What’s wrong with it?”

  Halley blinks. “That’s a death trap.”

  “It’s my baby.” I stroke the gleaming metal, cooing, “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t mean that.”

  “First of all, I do.” Halley sniffs. ”And second, you’re weird. Who talks to their bike?”

  I ignore her and climb on. When Halley doesn’t move, I give her an impatient look. “Well, get on.”

  She wraps her arms around herself. “I don’t like bikes.”

  I sigh. “You’re not going to fall off. Just keep your arms around me at all times.”

  When her face flushes and she steps back, I groan again. “Just get on the bike, Halley!”

  She shoots me a dirty look.

  When she slips behind me on the bike and wraps her arms around me, I tense.

  This was clearly a bad idea.

  The way her arms are gripping me with her small body pressed against mine; it’s making it hard for me to focus.

  “If you kill me, I’m reporting you to HR,” she squeaks out.

  My lips twitch, and in retaliation, when we roar away, I apply some extra pressure to make the bike go faster. Her scream makes me grin.

  But she grabs on to me even tighter and I bite my tongue.

  By the time we reach the building and I park my bike, she is shaking, her face white, and I immediately feel guilty. But before I can say anything, she points towards the bike and says with unconcealed hatred, “I’m never riding that again!”

  “I got you home in one piece, didn’t I?” I retort.

  Halley glares at me then marches past me.

  I follow at a leisurely pace.

  As we enter the building, she blurts out, “Just so you know, I’m not going dancing because of you. I just changed my mind!”

  When I give her a long look, she adds hotly, “Of my own volition.”

  I try to feel guilty about enforcing my decision on her but I can only find satisfaction inside. “Fine.”

  My answer obviously pisses her off because she hisses like a little kitten. “Don’t get too smug. There’s always tomorrow.”

  Her renewed fighting spirit makes me feel a bit relieved that she seems to have come out of that subdued behavior that had me so much on edge. “I thought you had shopping plans tomorrow.”

  “Well, I’ll go on Sunday then.”

  “Don’t you have dinner plans with those friends of yours?”

  She stops and narrows her eyes at me. “How did you—?”

  I smirk. “Because you never stop talking, Halley.”

  She glowers at me now.

  I have to fight the urge to laugh. As we reach the elevator, I pat my pockets for my keys and my grin fades as I realize that I don’t have them. “Fuck!” I hiss out the expletive.

  Alarmed, Halley freezes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I forgot my keys at the office! Shit!” I growl. “I’ll have to go back.”

  As I turn around, a small hand stops me. “Can’t you get the spare from the landlord?”

  “At this hour?” I frown. “He won’t be awake.”

  “But it’s already so late. And you’re tired.” She runs her fingers through her hair. “Why don’t you crash at my place, and you can get your keys from the Landlord in the morning?”

  The idea is practical but I find myself hesitating, “I don’t think that’s—?”

  “Oh, come on.” She looks annoyed. “It’s not like anything’s going to happen. I have a perfectly functioning couch. And I have an extra blanket and a pillow.”

  The thought of going all the way back and then returning sounds tedious and, reluctantly, I find myself agreeing.

  Halley’s place is a clear representation of her personality.

  It’s loud and colorful with mismatched furniture and weird little figurines that look out of place but oddly, bring the whole place together.

  There’s a large den, which opens to a kitchen, a bedroom, and a toilet. There’s a folding couch in the center of the den, placed behind a long coffee table and two arm chairs. There’s a flat screen facing the couch.

  “Wait here. I’ll get you the extra blanket and pillow.”

  I watch her leave the room and then move to the faux fireplace across the room from the flat screen. There are framed pictures on it.

  One is of an Asian girl, a young man, and Halley. Both have their arms around Halley who’s beaming. Then there is a picture of Raymond, Halley, and two other people who I assume are his deceased wife and child.

  They all look happy.

  There is one of Raymond and Halley which seems to be taken a few years later.

  There is no picture of Halley’s mother and I wonder if she has any.

  “Here.”

  I turn around.

  My host walks in then dumps a blanket, which has little puppies drawn on it, and a fluffy pillow.

  “Thanks.”

  We stare at each other, awkwardly, and I recall the scene from the office where I had nearly lost my mind.

  “Well, uh…” Halley pats the pillow. “I don’t have guys over, so I think I’m supposed to tell you to keep your hands to yourself and some other stuff.” She coughs, discreetly. “Uh, but I won’t do that because I’m sure you know that, and well, um—”

  “Got it!” The atmosphere is getting more and more uncomfortable and I grab the pillow.

  She can’t get out of here fast enough.

  When I hear the door close behind me, I fluff the pillow, unbutton my first few buttons, and tell myself that I can come out of this unscathed. All the inappropriate thoughts I’ve been having about my intern are simply because I’m overworked.

  I put my head down on the pillow.

  Yeah, that’s it.

  I just need a break.

  I don’t know when I fall asleep but I do know what wakes me up.

  I like to sleep in complete darkness, so when I feel the heat behind my eyelids, my eyes open, blearily, and I see the gleam of light coming from what I assume is the kitchen.

  Did Halley get up for water?

  Thinking about water reminds me my mouth is pretty dry and I wouldn’t mind a drink myself. I get up and pad over to the kitchen, barefoot and yawning.

  However, while Halley is in there, she’s not drinking water.

 
She’s sitting on the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a mug as she stares absently at the table, as if lost in thought.

  It looks like she’s been up for a while.

  Lately, it seems I’ve been glimpsing different sides of this woman and my initial presumption about her is shattering. But I don’t quite know what to make of her yet.

  I can always walk back out since she hasn’t noticed me yet but part of me wants to understand that expression on her face and why she’s sitting here alone in the kitchen so early in the morning when the sun hasn’t even risen.

  “Is that coffee?”

  Halley jerks as if she’s been slapped and gives me a dazed look before her expression clears. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

  “I was thirsty. What are you having?”

  She looks down at her mug as if she’s forgotten then gives me a sheepish smile. “Hot chocolate. But it’s cold now.”

  “My mom used to make the best hot chocolate,” I tell her, all the while wondering why I discuss my mother with her so much. I don’t even discuss her with Kendall.

  Halley smiles in a way that tells me that she’s not upset. “Mine is really watery.”

  I lean against the doorway, my hands in my pockets. “Want a cup?”

  “It’s five in the morning.”

  I straighten up and move into the kitchen. “There’s never a wrong time for hot chocolate. The key to it is adding loads and loads of melted chocolate in your drink. That gives it its flavor.”

  Halley rests her chin on the palm of her hand, grinning, as she watches me use the ingredients she’s still left out. “You mean along with diabetes.”

  “Exactly.” I smirk. “Now shut up and let a master show you how it’s done.”

  Two over boiled cups of milk and a broken mug later, we’re both sitting at the table, dipping marshmallows into the thick cup of steaming hot chocolate.

  “This tastes so good,” Halley moans.

  I see the frothy chocolate moustache on her upper lip. Without thinking, I reach over and wipe it with my thumb.

  Both of us freeze and then Halley turns completely red. “W-What are you doing?”

  I sit back down, slowly, not knowing what to say. “Ah…” My mouth opens and then it snaps shut. “My bad?”

  “Do I need my pepper spray?” She narrows her eyes at me even as her cheeks remain red.

  “Of course not!” I exclaim, and when she just gives me a suspicious look, I point out, “Why’re you blushing?”

  She immediately slaps her hands on her cheeks as if they will hide the evidence. “I am not!”

  I scoff. “You totally are! Admit it, you liked it!”

  She splutters and then tosses out, “Well, you offered to sleep with me tonight!”

  I immediately stand up. “I did no such thing!”

  “Did too!” She glares at me.

  “Well…” I try to deny it but no words come out, so I cross my arms and sit down, a mutinous expression on my face. “Better me than some random asshole on the street.”

  “I…” She gapes at me.

  I stare back, stubbornly, not wanting to back down. It’s a matter of pride for me now.

  “Y-you want to—you…” Halley can’t even form a single sentence.

  Right now, even I don’t know where I’m going with this. “It’s not like I’m suggesting we get into bed!” I try to climb out of this hole I’ve dug myself only to slip down even further. “All I’m saying is that at least you know me and—”

  “We don’t even have any chemistry!”

  Where did that come from?

  And once again, I find myself falling down a few feet, as I scowl. “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes I do!” Halley is half shouting now, looking both flustered and agitated.

  I’ve never seen her like this, and even as this whole situation is deteriorating faster than I can control, I still feel a sadistic pleasure from seeing her so riled up. “How would you know that?” I taunt. “You can’t establish something like that from halfway across the table.”

  I expect her to throw something at me or to curse at me, but what I don’t expect her to do is stand up, reach out to grab a fistful of my shirt in her hand, and yank me towards herself, planting her mouth on mine.

  The first thought that enters my mind when her soft lips press against mine, almost clumsily, is that she’s very inexperienced.

  The second thought is that her lips taste like hot chocolate and I would like nothing more than to have them wrapped around my cock.

  The third thought is that I have zero idea what chemistry is but I want to wrap myself around this girl and kiss her until I can’t breathe.

  Her lips are pressed tight and her eyes are slightly open. The dazed look in them tells me she’s not accustomed to something like this, and while that makes me curious, it also satisfies my arrogant side.

  My lips sealed against hers, I move towards her, around the table, and Halley doesn’t protest. Pressing her back against the table, I use one hand to grip her jaw gently, while the other is pressed against her back in a firm manner, keeping her imprisoned between my body and the piece of furniture.

  I brush my lips against hers, teasingly, nibbling on her lower lips, softly biting it, enjoying the way she tenses and then lets out a helpless moan. The spark of electricity that thrums between us is addictive and my cock hardens.

  When my hand tightens on her jaw, she almost slumps into me, as if her knees are giving way, and it makes me think that Halley might like control to be taken from her in the bedroom.

  Deciding to test it out, I order, “Open your mouth.”

  When she obeys almost instantly, I have to suppress my groan.

  I thrust in my tongue, tasting her sweet mouth and moving my tongue against hers, I make a humming sound of approval. My hand reaches down from her jaw to caress her neck, my thumb tracing her collarbone, feeling her melt under my touch.

  God, how is she so responsive?

  I suck on her tongue as she lets out a small sound of need and I swallow it. Licking inside her mouth, I listen to her soft moans and the way she’s clinging to me with her fingers clenching in my shirt as if holding on to a lifeline.

  My blood rushes downwards when I pull away momentarily to study the way her lips are parted ever so slightly, her face flushed, eyes filled with desire, a helpless expression of arousal on her face.

  My willpower snaps and this time, my hands reach out to grip her hair tightly, as I ravage her mouth, plundering her secrets as my wet tongue seduces her, my body pressed against her so I can feel every inch of her.

  My hands ache to fill them with her but I hold myself back.

  The heat between us is undeniable. It burns savagely, searing our bodies, as I brand her mouth with mine, forcing her to submit to me.

  I’ve never wanted a woman so desperately, and as she comes undone in my hands, I have to pull away to catch my breath, to regain some control.

  My breathing is harsh, as I stand there pressed against her, my eyes drinking in the dazed expression on her face, greedily. “So much for not having any chemistry.” I smirk, my heart hammering in my chest.

  When she blinks, there is a hint of frustrated anger in Halley’s eyes and I don’t avoid the elbow in my gut.

  As I groan, letting her slip my hold, I point out, “You kissed me first.”

  She marches into the living room.

  I follow her. “Halley.”

  “Don’t,” she says, sharply, before pushing my blanket to the side and sinking onto the couch.

  I tuck my hands in my pockets, knowing she’s upset but not knowing how to fix it. My experience with women is very limited. It’s usually a bam, wham, thank you ma’am, kind of thing.

  “I kissed my boss!” She looks devastated.

  Guilt hits me like a boulder. “Look…” I run my hands through my hair, agitated. “Don’t get upset. It’s not—we don’t have to do anything about it. It was just a kiss.”
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br />   When she looks up at me, I realize that I have to force the words out of me, “If you want, that’s all it will ever be. I’m not—I don’t force myself on women nor will I push you if you’re not comfortable.”

  “You don’t get it!” She exclaims looking torn. “It’s not just that—I mean it is that but—That was my first kiss!”

  Her words seize me by the throat and I choke out, “W-wait, what?”

  If that was her first kiss then that meant, she’s a—a—“But, Halley.” I blink, shaken by the revelation. “You kissed me.”

  “I know!” She wails. “I was trying to prove a point. Because you pissed me off. I didn’t know you would be so good at it!”

  I’m trying not to feel flattered even as I try to understand the situation seeing as she’s jumping from corner to corner. “How’s that a bad thing?” I sit down next to her. I’m starting to understand what has her so upset. She’s overwhelmed by what’s happened and all the feelings it roused in her.

  “I don’t know.” She looks so miserable and confused.

  I find it adorable even though it would be the worst thing to be feeling at this moment. I seem to have a terrible bedside manner. I take her hand. “Look, we’ve both been worked to the bone this past week. So we were tired and exhausted and this was just a mistake. If it makes you feel better, we can pretend it never happened.”

  She’s silent for a few long seconds as she stares at the way I’m caressing her knuckles with my thumb. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “I’m always nice to you.”

  “No.” She sniffs. “You’re a dick to me half the time.”

  “I am not!” I protest in indignation.

  “You are!” She glares at me. “Just yesterday, you told me to get you a caramel latte and then you made me run back because you forgot you hated caramel latte.”

  I shift my gaze away, guiltily. “Well, I do hate caramel latte.”

  “Jace!”

  “Fine.” I laugh. “I was waiting for you to say no. But you still went and it was pretty funny when you got mad and threatened to dump it on my head.”

  “I didn’t say that out loud!” Halley looks horrified.

  I nod, gravely. “You did. I was hurt. But I got over it because I’m a big boy.”

  Her lips twitch. “You’re still a dick.”

 

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