Easton
I don’t regret yesterday. Not one sexy moan, sweet tasting bit. She was titillating as hell with her parted lips, panting breaths, right up to when her eyes rolled and her skin flushed. She buried her head to try to drown out her erotic moan. Seeing her lose herself against my hand was unbelievable. Gorgeous as it murdered my nuts. Choked them so tightly, I almost lost my fucking load in my pants as she squirmed with the shudders. My dick throbbed so hard for her. I knew I’d have her ass on the desk, driving into her.
That’s until she got into her head.
After she darted out of the office, I rushed behind her and drove to her apartment. I parked where she wouldn’t notice me and waited until I watched her enter about twenty minutes later.
I went home—alone—with her on my mind. The normal hustle and bustle of my life has transformed into quiet. My standard friend-saturated life replaced by the noiseless end of the night. Fleeting moments of emptiness have ambushed my thoughts like a neverending void, one that has started consuming everything. I cherish the quiet, but I relish the loud.
I had hoped the urges, the aches for her would’ve dissipated over time, but instead, they intensified. She holds a spell binding power and it reaches into my chest. She’s already got so much of me it’s threatening…
She’s the perfect blend of spicy and sweet, bold and reserved. She’s got a heart of gold, and a melodic laughter. The little things are catching my attention. My attraction to her isn’t just purely physical—although fucking her on my desk is my top fantasy. Whatever this shit is, it’s got a damn death grip on me. I don’t know what it is about her, but deep from within the depths of my soul, she fucking excites every fiber of my being. I need her, to feel her, to have her. I want her as mine.
I step out of the elevator, fully anticipating seeing Zoey, except I’m only greeted by an empty desk. A heaviness falls on my shoulders, tumbling into my chest, and exasperation laces my sigh. I shrug out of my jacket, toss it over the back of my leather chair, and drop into it like a log. I drag my hands over my face. Between my long night of thinking about her, and still buzzing from the thrill of seeing her explode on my hand, I didn’t sleep for shit.
Out of the corner of my eye, steam catches my attention. I grin at the full coffee mug with elation spreading throughout me. She’s here.
As I lay in bed last night thinking of her, I devised a simple plan—embed myself into her thoughts. Wedge myself into her life. Wear her down and somehow, show her this playboy bachelor hasn’t playboyed himself around town for a long time. I’m desperate for her to see that her optimism, generous, soft and tender hearted ways have awoken something deep inside me.
I busy myself for an hour before emerging at her desk. Her head is down as she writes and she freezes when she senses my presence. Her back snaps tight, her hands still when I place my palms on her desk.
She doesn’t look up and it makes me chuckle. “I think we need to talk.”
Her body deflates, her shoulders slumping before ever so slowly looking up to me. Immediately, she blushes past the anger in her eyes. “If it isn’t about work, there won’t be a conversation.”
Narrowing my eyes, I challenge her. “It is.”
She bites a smile. “You have a two o’clock appointment with Mr. Calloway and a three o’clock with Mr. Derwent.”
I match her grin. “I have a right now with Miss Campbell,” I jerk my hand toward my door, pointing. “As in right now.”
Quietly, she huffs before ambling her sexy mad ass into my office and sits in the chair across from my desk.
I take a seat in my leather throne. “Did you think of what might have happened if you didn’t run out of here yesterday?”
Her cheeks fire up and she tucks her chin, dropping her view to her lap. “You said this was about work.”
“And I wasn’t lying. Everything that happened, happened right here.” I tap my knuckles against the wood. “In my office. I assure you it’s work related.”
“Please don’t do this to me,” she whispers, lifting her pleading hazel eyes to me. “It shouldn’t have happened. I’m embarrassed down to my soul.”
I scrape my teeth along my bottom lip. “You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.”
I watch her throat work as she swallows hard. “You’re my boss, Easton. My boss… You employ me. Last night shouldn’t have happened.” She closes her eyes. “Please, Easton…”
My name falls from her lips with so much pleading anguish, it cramps my chest. She blinks back tears, her face wilted with shame.
And it pisses me off.
“I’ll need a refill soon.” My tone drips bitterly cold. “Zach’s coming for a business lunch. Call in the meatballs you’ve ordered before. If I loved them, so will he.”
She never looks up as she nods and starts to leave.
Urgency snaps in my chest. An imperativeness to show her how much I need her courses my soul. I spring out of my seat in a flash and grasp her elbow. “Zoey. I’m a tenacious sonofabitch when I set my mind to something. I don’t know what it is about you or why I want you so fucking enormously, but I’m determined to find out.”
Her eyes are red from her tears when she snaps them to me. “It’s the chase, Easton. I’m not falling at your feet and begging you to be with me. I don’t need the bragging rights. I’m not interested in late night phone calls for sex. It’s not who I am.”
“Precisely, Zoey. I’m not out to hurt you.”
She removes her arm. “It may not be your intention, but we all know you will and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that heartache.” Her bottom lip quivers as she speaks and then she hurries out, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Two hours later, she doesn’t knock, just barges in with the bouquet of pink lilies and purple irises I sent. She sets them in the middle of my desk, on top of everything and right in front of me. Her thinned eyes carry enough spite it causes my skin to hurt. She storms back out and my amusement turns into a chuckle. I should’ve thought the flower thing through.
The next to enter my office isn’t the blonde bombshell I was hoping for. Instead, I’m greeted by the arrogant smile of Zach.
“Someone sent you beautiful flowers.” His laugh is flavored with sarcasm. “Thought you were dead set on Z?” He throws his thumb over his shoulder toward the door.
I tip my chin to the vase. “They’re hers.”
“The point is to give them to her. Not admire them yourself, you narcissistic dickhead.” He smirks like a smug ass.
I lift a brow and blow out a breath.
Realization registers in his peanut brain. “She gave them back?” he sputters with a belly laugh, shaking his head and slapping his leg. “What the hell have you done that caused her to give back the flowers? Must’ve been something big.”
“She’s just leery of me,” I answer honestly, moving to the table.
Zach spreads out a set of blueprints. “Do you blame her?”
“She’ll come around.”
“Or you’ll find another interest,” he says casually. “You’ve been celibate for too long trying to prove a hopeless point. Your dick will go in search for something to dip into soon.”
I snap a glower at him and then tap the table to change the course of the subject. “Provident?”
He shakes his head. “I was propositioned with Mid-City last week. Estimation of renovation completed in eight months. They want to gut the entire building down to its studs and revamp. There’s no security, burglary, or fire. Figured I’d let you take a peek before it hits the desks of everyone else. You’d be contracted through me. Oh, and fair warning. The architect is a prickly bastard, vain and just a plain asshole.”
I don’t mind assholes. “Start date?”
“We roll in two weeks from Monday.”
“My crew wouldn’t begin for another few months. They’d get a floor done every two to three days, depending on the design,” I think out loud.
“If you don’t think you can do it, I can always go to Edgerdale Alarms.”
Jesus, he’s being a smug shithead.
“I need to get with the PMs.” I slap his shoulder. “Give me until tomorrow afternoon to give you a definite answer.”
He rolls up the set of prints and grabs the one I’m excited for. Spreading them down, we begin to go over the details when there’s a light tap on the door. Zoey carries four large Styrofoam containers and sets them on the opposite side of the table without casting a glance to us. She disappears into my closet and returns with two bottles of water.
“I included salad too. Do you need anything else?” When she finally looks at me there’s a whirlwind of perturbation.
I grin in an attempt to ease her. “No. Thank you.”
Zach pivots to her. “Do you like working here?” I jerk my head toward him, but he continues. “My assistant isn’t nearly as nice and thoughtful as you. She doesn’t do the considerate gestures and she sure as fuck wouldn’t grab me something to drink when it’s in the same room. We’ve already established you work for an asshole. You could come work for me. I’m positive you’ll be more appreciated. In fact, I’d probably kiss the ground you walk on.”
“What the fuck?” I scathe, squaring him up with my fists balled.
He levels me with a cold sly smirk.
“Thank you, Zachary,” Zoey rushes out trying to diffuse the tension. “I’m happy with my job. But if things get weird, I’ll call you.” She blinks back to me.
Rage is boiling just under the surface of my skin, but I remain composed until she leaves. I’m going to snap his neck. “What the fuck, man?” I slam my palms into his chest.
He laughs…fucking laughs. “Calm your tits. You needed to hear that. Whatever has her unable to look at you hasn’t made it to her head. The fact she’s not considered quitting should make you happy.”
“Fucking smartass,” I grumble, opening the food.
Placing two of my meatballs and a part of my salad on an extra plate, I leer at Zach’s stupid grinning face. “I’ll be right back.”
She’s typing, her face toward the computer screen when I place the food on her desk. “I know you like these too and I’m positive you didn’t order yourself a thing.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but I don’t stick around to hear it. It’s only going to be an argument laced with every excuse as to why she shouldn’t accept it. And I’m not in the mood to hear any of it.
“Aw. Easty pooh is seriously crushing,” Zach quips, flippantly. “Tell me. What has happened to have her beet red and unable to look at you?” He shoves a bite of meatball into his mouth.
“A slip up.”
Both his brows jump high. He yanks his plate up, his eyes bulging at the table. “Am I eating on Z juice?”
I want to punch the fuck out of him. “No, you dickhead.”
“Oh. It didn’t get that far. So close yet so far away,” he says like he knows. “And judging by your attitude, I’m certain your dick is begging for attention. You don’t do well when you’re undersexed.”
“If you don’t shut the hell up…” I trail off and pinch the bridge of my nose.
He releases a hefty laugh. We finish eating in silence, my mind racing on all things Zoey. Afterward, Zach tosses his box in the trash, gathers his things and grabs the flowers.
I eye the vase.
He grins like he’s got the best idea ever. “Maybe she won’t return them if I give them to her.” He lifts a shoulder. “Stay put, Casanova. You’ve never been good at this part.”
Twenty minutes later, the flowers are back on my desk and I’m laughing. Zach’s right. I’ve never had to pursue a chase. It’s fresh and new. She’s what I want and I’ll do what I have to do to break her walls one way or the other. I need a different angle. She’s not typical and neither should my plans be.