________________
Kane
It felt like a boulder sat on his chest. He couldn’t move, could barely breathe. He didn’t talk about himself, his personal life, with people. With anyone. Not with the blonds in the lobby or the guys at the shop. In fact, the last person who he’d really talked to was his father.
He’d opened the shop for his father, to follow a dream for his dad.
But Alexis was truly listening to him. She wanted to know.
And then she licked her lower lip, and his composure broke. He grabbed her around the waist and backed her into the door. Her breath rushed out when she hit the surface, and her hands came up to his chest to steady herself.
“Why do you want to know this?” he asked, voice low.
Her eyelashes fluttered when she blinked up at him. “About your dad? About you?”
He squeezed her hip, and brought his other hand to her cheek, a moment of gentleness. “Yes.”
“Because I want to know you. I want—”
The word was on her lips. You. I want you.
He pressed his body against hers, feeling every soft curve, every thump of her heart, and the heat. Oh, God, she was on fire. He’d wondered what she’d feel like against his body. In his bed. Wrapped tight like a vice around his cock.
But she was an employee. Damn it, no—she was more than that. Which was why he should keep his distance. She wasn’t one of those blonds in the lobby, she wasn’t one of the women at the bar he could just lose himself in. They’d drone on about their lives and he could drink a few beers and zone out. Or admire their curves and their smooth voice. Those kind of women were a dime a dozen, as his father would say.
“Kane,” Alexis murmured.
His name on her lips was more than he could handle. He shoved his knee between her legs, holding her in place against the door, and devoured her mouth.
Like the little fighter she was, she gave as good as she got. Her tongue invaded his mouth, soft and warm, driving him on. When her hands started to wander, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the door.
“If you touch me, there’s no stopping this,” he growled.
Her mouth opened, and part of him wanted her to argue, to give him an excuse to take her inside and have his way with her. The other part, the part that was far more sober than her, knew he couldn’t lose it.
Before she could answer, he lowered his head, tracing his lips down her jaw, to her collarbone, and then lower. Her breasts swelled with each breath she took. He could feel her heartbeat with his lips.
“I want to touch you,” she said.
Damn it. The girl didn’t give up. He wanted her hands all over him, too. He wanted those petite fingers wrapped tight around his dick, taking him where he wanted to go. He gripped both her wrists with one hand, holding them against the door above her head.
“It’s a bad idea.”
But even as he said it, he slid his knee higher and her body moved forward against his, riding up his leg. Even in his jeans, he could feel the heat of her pussy through her skirt. He could feel it touching the head of his dick, and the motion made her moan.
“Kane—”
“Alexis. Damn it.”
His cocked ached, needing to be buried deep in her. Why hadn’t he had a few more beers like the rest of them? Then maybe this wouldn’t be so hard.
He shifted his body against hers, and her skirt hiked up further, so her panties were the only thing separating her from his clothes. Then he used the friction to get her off, dry humping her against the door like a teenager who was afraid to get caught with his pants down.
Her breath hitched. “Oh, God—”
And it just drove him further. He moved faster, loving the way her breasts bounced under her shirt.
Loving the way each breath was like an exhale of pleasure and she couldn’t stop saying his name. None of the other women did that.
Finally, he released her wrists, and she immediately reached for his shoulders. Her head bowed and a quiet sob escaped her lips as she came.
It wasn’t enough. He didn’t just want her against the door. He wanted her in her house, on her bed. He wanted her on his bed. He wanted her everywhere and over and over again.
And he was just about to tell her this when her head lifted. When her eyes locked on his. When she spoke.
“I guess this means you’re not going to fire me.”
He lowered his leg, letting her feet touch the floor fully again. She used his shoulders to steady herself, and it was too much. The throbbing in his cock, the need to shove her against the door again. He wanted it all—and more.
And then she had to remind who they were. Boss. Employee.
Fuck.
“Alexis.” He forced himself to step back. It was physically painful, knowing he wasn’t going to get her tonight. “No. You’re not fired. I shouldn’t have done this.”
She blinked, confused. He was sure it was partly the alcohol, but still—he hated the quick flash of hurt in her eyes.
“I’m not a kid,” she said. “I knew what I was doing—and it’s not going to affect my work.”
“I know it’s not because I’m walking away.”
Her hands dropped to her hips, but to his surprise all she did was huff out a breath. “Of course. I should have known better.”
Then she turned, shoved her keys in her lock, and slammed the door.
She should have known better? Why? Because they worked together or because it was him?
Shit. What the hell?
And why was he still standing here like she’s the one who had stopped things between them.
Kane swiveled and walked back to his bike. He’d done the right thing and they both knew it.
Why, then, did he feel like shit?
When he reached the bike, he shrugged into his jacket. It smelled like her. Fresh. Clean. Like soap or shampoo. Simple but powerful, just like Alexis.
Screw that. It was the beer, the night, the fucking hormones. All of it added up meant they’d taken a step over the boundaries. No problem. Things would go back to normal at work tomorrow and everyone would be fine.
With that mantra repeating over and over in his head, he tried to ignore Alexis’s smell and rode home, his cock still half hard for her.