1 Month Ago

I sit back in my seat at the head of the table, silently organizing my thoughts.

“So? You like it?” There’s triumph in Leslie’s blue eyes, and it has a right to be there. She’s put together an amazing concept and a very persuasive presentation on the direction she thinks Bold & Co. should take our marketing.

But something is off.

I don’t want to cut her down, but I can’t pretend that the campaign feels right for us.

“It feels…hollow.”

Her smile drops, but she regroups quickly, determination settling into her expression.

That is exactly why we chose her, because Leslie isn’t a quitter and she doesn’t believe in her ego so much that she refuses to take direction.

That was very important to us when deciding who we’d allow to pitch us, and then, who we wanted to work with.

I can deal with a lot of things, but excessive ego? Spare me.

“Well then darlin’, tell me what’ll give you all the feels.” She clicks off the screen and drops into her chair at the other end of the table, shaking out her blonde curls and flipping open her laptop. “What didn’t you like about it?”

“It feels too polished, too cookie-cutter. Cookie-cutter is fine, Bold is for all types of women…but I don’t want those women to be the only ones represented. Where’s the diversity? Where are the stretch-marks and the women with unruly curls and bare faces right next to the polished ones?”

“So you want some of the models to be more natural, more true-to-life?” She scribbles in her notes, and I nod absently.

“I agree.” Sienna, my business partner, and friend nods. “The Bold woman is comfortable being herself, being whatever makes her happiest, whether that’s all done-up or just rolled out of bed in the morning.”

“Exactly.” Sienna and I are usually always on the exact same page, which is why we founded Bold in the first place.

We both used to model when we were a little younger, and we didn’t like the ideals the industry pushed.

There’s no one-size-fits-all. There’s no one beautiful type of body. Health is important, taking care of yourself is important, but slim and curvy aren’t the only body types out there.

We wanted to make sure that not only did we create something that finds ways to flatter all kinds of women, but that we created a company for women.

To support their growth and their lives and never take away anything.

From our factories to our hiring to our benefits, I’ve worked damn hard to have my hand in every part of the process and make sure we practice what we preach.

It’s finally something I can be proud of. That my family can be proud of.

I have my shit together on all fronts, and I’ve never felt better.

Or more sexually frustrated.

“Alright ladies, I’ll re-work things, send over some stuff as it happens and then we can run it by the advisory team at the next meeting.” Leslie closes her laptop and stands, and Sienna and I get up too.

“I have the utmost faith in you.” I hug her and so does Sienna, then I step back into the heels I’d kicked off. Sienna slides out because she has a brunch meeting to get to.

“Knock, knock.” I don’t recognize the voice, so I focus on buckling the slim strap on my red pumps.

“Hawk! I just finished up.” I wonder if this is the man Leslie’s seeing. We asked her about the nice bling on her finger, and she blushed and said it was just a promise ring.

I didn’t even know people still did that.

“This is actually just perfect, because I wanted y’all to meet.” I straighten and turn, and immediately wish I hadn’t, as Leslie’s phone rings.

“Well if it isn’t a little birdie that flew away.” He enters the conference room and I lean against the edge of the table and cross my arms. Partially to hide my nipples because they’re beaming like a lighthouse.

“Uh,” Leslie looks between us like she has questions, “I have to take this call, but Hawk, introduce yourself please.”

“Yes ma’am,” He drawls, deep grey eyes twinkling as he walks further into the room. When the door closes behind Leslie, I suddenly wish that I’d gone for glass windows for this space.

I wouldn’t feel so trapped then.

Which, I have to tell you, is a very unfamiliar feeling for me.

“I guess I don’t need to make introductions after all. It’s nice to put a name to the body.” Hawk raises a challenging, dark brow.

Why does he look so damned good? His deep blue suit is tailored to skim over his body perfectly, and the taut way his crisp shirt lays over his abdomen just reminds me that I know exactly what the body underneath looks like.

I’ve always known I should’ve moved out of New York. For such a huge place, the circles run entirely too small.

“That’s the only thing you’ll be putting to the body, so get that look off your face.” I move further away from him under the guise of pouring a glass of water.

“I do believe I at least deserve an explanation on why you disappeared.” He has the audacity to sit in my chair at the head of the table, as casual as can be. Toned thighs spread and skilled fingers rest on top of them, his jacket falling open to reveal a wide chest framed by broad shoulders.

His dark hair is longer than before. Now the length is more Matthew McConaughey in How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days, and less Brad Pitt in Mr. & Mrs. Smith.

“I’m not a fan of coincidences. How did you find me if you didn’t know my name?” I’m so damn horny that I can’t think straight. I have been so careful, so damn careful to keep a safe distance from situations where I could get myself in trouble.

Situations that would derail all of the growth I’ve made. I haven’t slept with anyone, I haven’t had weed in months, and I haven’t gone to a single club or party.

I’ve been good. And things have been thriving because of it since I’ve had the extra energy to give.

I’ve been hanging out more with my family and getting to know Keyra and Kaija’s boyfriends better and their friends. My life is full of more things now than just things that please me.

And it looks less frivolous from the outside.

It feels like this man could undo all of that. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

“This is pure coincidence, actually. Maybe it’s you who orchestrated this. After all, you did hire my sister.”

“Who is your sister?” I blink. I haven’t recently hired anyone new besides Leslie.

“Leslie Rose, whose given name is Leslie Rose James. She’s the woman in the picture you took out of context.” So he already knew why I left. He’s enjoying the fact that he’s ahead of me in something if the slight tilt of his lips is any indication. Or maybe he just wears his arrogance so much that it’s permanent now.

“That woman had dark hair and smaller lips.” I narrow my eyes, bringing up the picture in my mind.

“It’d be mighty rude of me to divulge a woman’s secrets.” He winks, and I scowl in reaction to that smooth as butter accent of his. I’ve bounced around to so many places that I don’t have a discernible accent to my voice. “But if you come sit on my lap, I might give it a little bit more thought.”

All playful charm, and if nothing else, that’s something he and Leslie have in common. I’d never heard so many endearments in my life until I met her.

“Not happening.” At my refusal, he gets that same look in his eye that he had when he came into the bathroom. The look that says he’s decided to stop playing any games, and whatever happens next is exactly what he wants.

Lord.

He rises from the seat and I pull my lip between my teeth, carefully sitting the glass of water down.

In this room, I’ve always been in control.

This is one of the rooms where I make the decisions, where I get the last word, and what I want is what people defer to.

This is fine.

I can handle this.

This is my domain.

And Leslie should be back any second to save me.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were nervous.” He rumbles, and I force a casual stance, crossing one leg over the other and leaning against the wall.

“What would I be nervous about?”

“You tell me.” He moves entirely too close to me, and even though no parts of our bodies are touching, I can feel his heat.

There’s a scar following the line of his jaw that I didn’t notice before. He blinks long, decadent lashes at me, those grey eyes flaring with need and I lose my train of thought.

“Why didn’t you give me a chance to tell you I wasn’t being a cad?” He places his hands against the wall, on either side of my hips.

Still, no touching.

“People lie. All I knew then was that we hadn’t exchanged any information, which was incredibly stupid by the way.”

“It didn’t seem like it was your first time behaving in such a manner.” He drawls, his head lowering as he looks me up and down slowly, taking his time so that I almost feel his gaze trailing up my legs and over my chest.

I’m not even wearing anything revealing today, yet I feel completely exposed.

“My eyes are up here.” I throw out, tipping his chin up with my finger so that he meets my eyes again.

I made the first contact, and we stare at each other wordlessly, wondering what the next move is going to be and who’s going to make it.

“That door isn’t locked.” We’re both completely still, there’s no other sound in the room other than our quiet breathing and the very subtle tick of the glass clock on the wall.

“Thankfully. Maybe that southern upbringing will remind you to behave properly.” I lower my hand, resting it on my thigh.

“Don’t you know that when you grow up conservative, you learn to love breaking the rules?” He leans closer, his lips mere centimeters from my body, following over all the places he would go but never making contact.

Over my jaw, down my neck, around my collarbone and to the other side until he stops at my right ear and I just barely keep myself from moaning.

“I’m not going to touch you until you ask me to.” He murmurs.

His scent surrounds me, subtle but powerful, just the faintest hint of spice and tobacco. That woodsy, slightly burning smell that just screams heat with a bottom layer of something barely sweet.

It’s enough to drive a woman mad. To be so close to something, and know that you can’t have it.

“And if I don’t?” I say.

“You will.” So close that I can feel his breath coast across my lips, and he moves his hands up the wall until they’re next to my head and bends his arms as he shifts closer…closer…

I really regret not wearing a bra today.

My dress fabric is too silky, too tantalizing against my nipples. Every brush when they’re already hard is torture.

Where the hell is Leslie?

“I…”

“Just one word, Michaela. All you have to say is please.”

“Please…” His hands immediately spear into my hair and his hips come flush against mine, and it’s that final touch that gives me the little strength I need.

“Don’t. Please don’t.” I whisper.

He freezes immediately and I swallow hard, looking at the carpet as he releases me and moves back.

I’ve only ever felt this vulnerable with one other man before, and it makes no sense to me that I’d feel this way with a man I know next to nothing about.

That’s what makes him more dangerous to me than any other fling, any other one-night or however many night stands.

The door opens and Leslie walks in, looking down at her phone, so Hawk has time to drop down into a chair and I pick up the water glass again.

The water ripples slightly because my hand is trembling.

“Sorry about that, it was one of my project managers. So, what do you think Mickey? Are you on board?”