Chapter Nineteen
Ryan whipped the car into the parking garage entrance. He came to an abrupt stop before the gate, his jaw clamped beyond tight when he swiped his badge before the card reader. His pulse thrummed with the resentment and annoyance—and fear—boiling in his veins.
He hit the accelerator the second the flimsy wooden arm rose. His tires squealed around the turns as they plunged into the gray depths of the garage.
Had she really asked that? Since me?
A large majority of the parking spots were empty with the flight of the nine-to-five crowd. He gripped the steering wheel, slowing as a car eased past them on its way out. The steam simmering within him worked its way out to cover his skin in a clammy sweat that had his shirt clinging to his back.
Brie was pushing. Hard.
For what?
His mind raced to the most unlikely yet probable reason. She wanted to go back to the Boardroom. And what the hell was he supposed to do? Ignore her? Answer? Shove her firmly back into Ms. Wakeford status?
He pulled into his reserved parking space, slammed on the brakes, shoved the gearshift into Park before twisting in his seat to nail her with a hard stare. Her quick inhalation cut through the air. Her eyes widened as she met his intensity head-on. No flinching. No backing down.
“What are you getting at?” He waited a beat. “Brie.”
Her nostrils flared slightly, her lower lip curling in. “It was just a question.”
“Wrong. It was more than that.” Way more.
“Was it?”
She actually had the nerve to quirk a brow. At him. When he was ready to...
He bit back the thought before it could form. It’d do no good, however it ended. He burned now. Raged. It coiled in his chest and gnawed at his gut with a fierceness he didn’t recognize.
His emotions never got to this level.
Ever.
Even that cold empty space in his chest was filled with heat.
He leaned in, refusing to be bested. “Then tell me. Would you go back?” Her brow lowered, and a hitch of victory laced through his anger. “To the Boardroom?”
Her eyes darkened in incremental shifts that he shouldn’t notice. Shouldn’t.
“Answer my question first.” Her voice was hushed, yet it seemed to scream through the tension. Her steely resolve was layered into her steady stare and tugged on that damn admiration he continued to pile on her.
Admiration. Right. That’s all it was.
His response wavered on the thin edge of charge or fall back. Her lips were, God, just inches away. She’d edged forward as their standoff dug in. So had he.
“No.” His admission snapped out on a flat note. No. He’d had zero desire to go back. Not even to get her out of his thoughts.
And he wasn’t analyzing that.
He caught her swallow in his peripheral vision. There was no way he was tearing his eyes from hers. None. Her pupils grew bigger, the blue richer until the thought of basic blue was gone.
“With you,” she whispered.
It took a moment for her admission to sink in. With you. Understanding slammed in with a punch to his restraint. With you.
A vision of her splayed on a table, engulfed in passion, eyes locked on him, burst into his mind with ease. The burn of want sunk to his groin to free the desire he’d been incapable of quenching. Not when it came to Brie.
He worked to keep his careening thoughts from showing, but he honestly had no clue if it worked. “Is that an invitation?”
She bit her lip, let it slide out. “Would you accept?”
Would wasn’t in question. “I don’t think would is the right word.” Should, though? That screamed at him in an attempt to hammer home the answer—which he couldn’t decipher.
“We know the answer to should.” Her lids lowered. A hint of a smile lifted her lips. “That’s unrelated to would.”
He could’ve debated that. His rebuttal was already formed before it slid away. Here, in this secluded cocoon away from the world and work and every possible consequence, he had only one answer. “Yes.”
Her eyes closed on a soft fall, cutting off the want that’d burned in them. He sucked in a breath. It got lodged in his chest when he tried to expel it, tried to resist the desire hauling him closer—to her.
It didn’t work.
His lips found hers on a crush of yes. Fuck. Finally.
Her low moan cried of indecision, of longing and that same, anguished finally.
A burst of echoing voices penetrated the car with a slap of harsh awareness. He sat back, cursed. He tensed, gaze locking on the three women as they crossed the garage to a minivan parked down the row. He didn’t recognize them.
He scanned past the empty parking spots to the glass doors that led to the elevator foyer. The threat prickled over his nape and struck up a beat in his chest.
They could’ve been caught.
And then what?
He looked to Brie. That same awareness blazed back at him.
Of the danger. The risk. The want that shouldn’t be there.
He eased back until he was fully in his space, not crossing the center or intruding on hers. Yet his desire still raged. It clawed at his restraint and shoved his entrenched calculation to the side. This wasn’t logical—whatever it was.
Neither was his intent.
His tongue slicked over his lips, the imagined remnants of her taste swarming inside his mouth. He slid his phone out of his pocket and opened the Boardroom app. Each click dismissed every reason for why this was wrong. Why he should stop.
There. He glanced at the time.
“Tell me no, Brie.” He didn’t lift his gaze from the Active Scene screen. A knot twisted in his stomach and fought against the compulsion driving him forward.
He waited.
Her breath hitched. “I don’t want to.”
Her whispered admission was his undoing. Hell.
He scanned the list, found one that fit. He added their names to the players, along with their limits. His thumb hovered over the Add button. This wasn’t smart.
He turned to Brie. She watched him with those big eyes of hers. There was little hint of her thoughts displayed on her face. Was her pulse racing like his? Did she ache for his touch? Would she cry out when he drove into her? Toss her head back and dig her nails into his shoulders?
Was this a wild dive into tragedy? Was he consciously throwing away everything he’d worked for? For one more night of sex?
Her single slow nod finished his irrational descent.
He let his thumb fall, the scene reposting to the active board.
He turned off his phone screen. “You can change your mind at any time.”
“Okay.”
That was it.
His chuckle was empty and dry. What was he doing? He honestly couldn’t remember if he’d ever gone into something without knowing precisely why he was doing it. The only answer he had now was the unrelenting need to feel her again. To have that passion focused on him, surrounding him, pulling him in until he felt nothing but her.
Felt her.
He thrust the car into Reverse and backed out of his spot on that enlightening thought. He hit the brakes, her gaze meeting his when he glanced over. Her emotions were locked down behind that professional mask he usually appreciated but now despised.
No. This was good.
The Boardroom was not connected to work. It had boundaries, rules and limitations. And she’d agreed to each one.
He took a breath, locking his own flailing emotions behind the wall of correctness. He looked back to her. That same fucking wall was erected around her, and he wanted nothing more than to kick it down.
And he would. Soon.
“Do your rules still stand?”
Her brows dipped, lifted. “I’ll let you know.” She looked away, chin raised, back straight. Her fingers were laced on her lap, feet crossed at the ankles, the hem of her skirt rising just above her knees in a prim facade that brought a crazy-assed smile to his face.
He was so fucked—and she could never know exactly how much.