I can see tears flooding Andrea’s eyes, and I feel like I got kicked in the gut. She spins around and heads for the door.

“We’re not done,” I find myself saying. I rush around her and block her from leaving.

“Yes, we are,” she spits out. A tear slips down, and she swipes at it furiously. “I’m tired of you treating me like garbage. Why did you hire me anyway if you were just going to be such a dick to me?”

I scrub the back of my neck in frustration. Dammit. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve been so cruel to her in the effort to force distance. I can claim all I want it’s to protect her, and myself, but that isn’t true.

I’ve hurt her.

My jealousy, my emotions, have been overwhelming me. I haven’t allowed myself to feel this way about anyone, not since…since I was a kid and was left bereft and alone.

I sure as fuck don’t want to feel this way now. But I do.

“I thought it would be best if we maintained a professional distance,” I find myself saying quietly.

She sniffles and looks up at me with those wounded eyes, and it stabs me in the chest. “I…look, I didn’t mean for any of that to happen between us either. But you can’t just treat people that way.”

“I don’t know what the fuck to do,” I say bluntly. “I fucked my junior agent.” She flinches at my words but doesn’t move. At least she’s staying and listening. “It was a huge mistake. Should never have happened.” Liar, some deep-down part of me says. It wasn’t a mistake. And I know it. I connected with her in a way I never have before. That night unlocked something in me, and this whole time since then, I’ve been struggling to get it back.

“I see.” The words are barely above a whisper. She looks away and I can tell the moment she shuts down. And now I’m the one being pushed away, and I feel the savage pain of it. What I’ve done to her for two weeks. Fuck.

“I didn’t…” I reach out and take her by the wrist. Draw her closer. Cup her chin. I just need to touch her. “Fuck. Andrea, don’t you know what you’re doing to me? I’m losing my mind trying to not be near you because every fucking moment of every day, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She swallows and peers up at me. Confusion is ripe in her eyes. “I…I don’t understand you. You can barely even stand to look at me.”

My blood is rushing in a furious pump through my veins. “You have no idea what you do to me. All I want to do is strip you naked and make you scream my name.”

Her lips part, and she drags in a startled gasp.

“That’s right, lovely,” I continue in a silken voice. The words are flooding out of me. I can’t stop myself now. “I’ve sat in here, stroking myself thinking about you just a few rooms down. About the taste of you. I want more.”

“God,” she breathes, and her body sways toward mine, even though I can still see wariness in her eyes. Can I blame her? I’ve shoved her away. Why would she trust me?

Trust.

I’ve given her no reason to. I know what I feel, but she doesn’t.

I loop my arm around her waist and tug her flush to me. “Tell me what you want, Andrea. Because so help me God, if you don’t tell me to walk away, I’m going to fuck you right here in this office, right now. I’ve been denying myself of your succulent body for far too long.”

She swallows. “I…”

I press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. I want her to give in to me so badly. But she has to want it. I won’t coerce her. Her head tilts as I drag my lips down her throat.

“Oh God, I missed this,” she says, gripping my upper arms and melting against me.

I can feel the moment she gives in to this hot, repressed desire between us. I want to take her, drive away all the wounded feelings and the agony of the last two weeks. I don’t know if this is crazy or a mistake. But I don’t care.

I don’t fucking care.

All I know is I’m overwhelmed by what I’m feeling for this woman, and I’m tired of trying to ignore it.

I grab her head and possess her mouth, and she sighs and opens to me. Jesus, I missed this. I feel an odd familiarity as I taste her. She moans into my mouth, and I swallow the sound.

“You have to be quiet, do you understand me?” I whisper against her lips.

She nods.

“I’m going to make you come for me. Right here.”

Her soft whimper is answer enough.

I spin her until her ass is against my desk and then lift her up on it. Deepen the kiss until I don’t know where I end and she starts. It’s erotic, flooding me with lust, hunger. My cock is raging to escape.

But not now. This is about her. About easing the ache I caused through my harshness these past two weeks. I took away some of her vibrancy. That’s not acceptable.

I unbutton her blouse and watch in pleasure as her breasts spill forth, barely contained in the white cotton bra. “You have incredible tits,” I say as I cradle them. Savor their weight in my hands. I lean down and draw one out of the cup, then suck the tip.

She gasps then bites her lip to quieten herself.

I want to get her as turned on as I can just by playing with her breasts. I take her shirt off and toss it to the floor, then flick the bra open and fling it as well. Yes. Then I alternate licking and sucking each breast, feasting on her like a starved man.

I’ve never wanted someone so much. She’s so strong, vulnerable, earnest, beautiful. I don’t know how to handle what I’m feeling, but pushing her away wasn’t working. Not at all. It just made us both miserable.

Soon, she’s squirming on the desk, writhing against me. “I’m so wet,” she whispers. “I want you so much.”

“This is about you, lovely,” I tell her hotly. “Get up and take those pants off. But leave the panties on.”

She doesn’t hesitate and does as I tell her.

I shove papers off the nearest side of my desk. “Lay down. Right here. Heels on the top, thighs open for me. The way I like you to be.”

Her breathing is erratic as she completes the task. Her panties are white cotton too, and I can see the wet spot at her crotch. Fuck. That’s so hot.

I don’t wait. I dive in. Suck her through her panties until the crotch is soaked and I can taste her come leaking through the fabric.

Her fingers bury in my hair, and she pulses against me, vibrates with tension. “Please,” she begs me. “I…I need…”

I give her what she wants. Grip both sides of her panties and rip them off her. Her responding gasp of pleasure is so darkly satisfying to me. Mmm, so she likes clothes ripped off. Good to know.

I lick that soaking-wet cunt and thrust a finger inside her pussy. It’s so drenched that it makes a slick sound as I glide in and out. Touch her pussy with both hands.

Then I press a finger of my other hand to her back entrance.

She freezes.

“Trust me,” I soothe against her. I lick her clit. “I won’t hurt you…or at least not in a way you don’t like. This will feel so good.” I want to shatter her apart.

I spend a few minutes licking her, teasing her, swirling my finger at her hole, the other in her pussy. I maintain steady and even pressure as she relaxes bit by bit. Then I press into the entrance.

She stiffens for a moment and I use the chance to suck her clit between my teeth. That gets her attention. She bucks wildly, and I fuck her pussy, stroking her G-spot.

“Oh God,” she pants.

I press into her ass deeper, bit by bit, knuckle by knuckle. She spasms around my digit but doesn’t stop me. Instead, her pussy gets wetter until the juices are dripping onto my desk and my hand. Fuck, that’s so sexy.

Finally I’m fucking her with two fingers, one in each hole, eating her pussy as she bites her lip to avoid crying out. Her whole body starts to tremble, and she squeezes around my fingers.

“Yes, yes,” I coax her. “Come all over my hands, baby. I want that so badly.” The sight of her with her chest and throat flushed, thighs wantonly open for me, my fingers fucking her…I can feel precum leaking into my boxers. I’m so raging hard.

This woman is incredible.

She freezes for a moment and then a cry slips out. She clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Her whole body is convulsing, and I’m relentless, not stopping until I’ve taken every last bit of her orgasm from her.

When she finally relaxes and slumps on the desk, I withdraw from her. Press a soft kiss to her brow. “You did so good,” I soothe her. “Did you like that?”

“It…” She gives a lazy grin. “That was… Yeah.” Her soft, pleasure-laden chuckle stirs me deeply. “I liked that.”

She puts on her clothes like nothing happened. When she bends down for her panty scraps, I stop her.

“Those are mine.”

She hands them to me without a word, and I stuff them into my pocket. Her hair is mussed, lips swollen, and she looks thoroughly satisfied. “Um.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ears.

“Andrea.” I come to her side and pull her against me. Kiss the top of her head. “I have feelings for you. I…I don’t know what this means. I don’t have any experience with this. But I wanted you to know.”

She gives a small gasp against me and pulls back. “What?”

“You heard me,” I grumble, and that makes her chuckle. “I’m not gonna do that thing where I say it twelve times.”

“You really do suck at this.” But she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses my mouth, and I realize that I lied. I’d say it twelve times if she needed to hear it. I want this woman to open up to me. Trust me.

As much as it scares the shit out of me to want that from her…

We sit down on the plush green couch against the far wall. I cradle her against me. I don’t want to let her go, not right now. I have this intense need for her that goes beyond sexual. She challenges me, pushes me, and I find it exciting and scary as fuck.

“So, we should talk about this Cade thing,” I tell her. “I have serious doubts about us signing him.”

Andrea blinks at me with wide eyes, aghast. “Why wouldn’t you want to sign the hottest player in the league? Especially when you need something like this more than ever?”

“Because of you,” I say baldly. “I can’t help but feel like Cade is going to throw us a curveball. I know he acts like a good-old Texas boy, but there’s more to him than that. He sets me off somehow.”

She elbows me. “It’s because you think we were flirting with each other.”

“Oh, he was definitely flirting with you. Don’t kid yourself,” I tell her.

She frowns. “You’re wrong. Don’t let jealousy cloud your judgment. I think he is exactly as he portrays himself. I’ve been around men like him before. He’s harmless. Signing him would be a huge boost for our company, and I made this deal. My first one.” Passion rings through in her voice. “I can do this, Ryker. Believe in me. Trust me. Please.”

Fuck. All my Spidey senses are tingling about Cade, and signing him goes against my own gut instinct.

“I’ll vouch for him,” she says. “I give my word that he’s a good client for us, and I stand behind my instincts.” Now that steel is back in her voice. The challenge. I like that she stands up to me, even if it frustrates me. I don’t agree with her.

But she wants this. “Fine. We’ll make the deal. But I want you to know I don’t feel good about this. And I expect to be involved—I’m still mentoring you, and there’s a lot you have to learn—”

“Oh, thank you,” she rushes out as she hugs me. “This is going to be incredible. You wait and see. I’ll make you so proud.”

I wrap my arms around her. My chest aches. Not just because of my fear over this deal, but because this woman is going to break me into a thousand pieces, and I may just let her.

* * *

“Fish sticks. They’re unnatural,” Andrea says as she blanches. She looks over at me from across my desk. “And you?”

“There’s a lot of food I find repulsive,” I tell her drolly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m rather selective.”

“Picky,” she teases.

I give her a mock glare. “Selective. And I’d have to say…mustard.”

She quirks a brow. “Wait. People actually hate mustard?” The soft glow from my desk lamp illuminates the warmth in her eyes.

“I don’t know about people, but I do. That shit is revolting.”

We’re alone at the office on the Monday evening following our sexual encounter in here. Though I didn’t see her this past weekend, we did communicate via text. I kept pretending it was for work reasons. But really, I just wanted to talk to her.

We’ve been pulling double duty, reviewing all the notes she took for me, plus finalizing our plan for Cade. True to his word, he scanned and emailed the contract in Saturday morning. Andrea officially has her first client.

Andrea frowns and scratches something quickly off on her page, then writes in more text. “Okay, so you hate mustard. What foods do you love then?”

“Lasagna,” I say quickly. “Ribs. Burgers. Steak.” I pause and pretend to think. “Did I mention ribs?”

Her mirth is evident in her smile. “A real meat-and-potatoes guy, huh?”

“Hold the potatoes,” I quip.

We work in silence for another few minutes, and I marvel at this. A month ago, I never would have thought I’d be here. Flirting with a woman I work with. Someone I’m developing feelings for. Maybe there’s a little hope for me after all. Maybe I’m not the total lost cause I always assumed I was.

“And you?” I prod.

She nibbles on that sexy lower lip. “Um, I like curry a lot, in pretty much anything. Sushi. Fried chicken. And I have a soft spot for chicken and dumplings.”

“You’d love how my grandma makes it.”

“Oh?” She quirks her head. “I bet she’s a character. She’d have to be a strong woman to raise a guy like you.”

My mood dampens a bit. I don’t really want to talk about her. I give a generic shrug in response.

“Sorry.” She flushes. “Didn’t mean to touch on a sore subject for you. I mean, I’m guessing it’s sore by the way you’re reacting.” She fiddles with her fingers on top of the desk then returns her attention to her papers.

Silence stretches out for several minutes. I’m both relieved at the drop of the topic and feeling like a heel for not opening up. Finally I say, “Look, I’m a closed-off person by nature. Shit happened to me when I was a kid, and I never adapted well.”

The sadness in her eyes makes my chest hurt. “It’s totally okay. You don’t have to talk about it. Or anything you don’t want to.”

When have I ever had such understanding? I can tell she genuinely means it. But then again, how can I earn her trust if I don’t start dropping my guard? Maybe I can offer something small. “They raised me when my mom died. I was too wild for them—they’re old-fashioned people and hadn’t planned on having another kid in the house.”

She nods. “My brothers are pretty wild and goofy. My dad is too though, and they all egg each other on.” An emotion similar to longing flashes across her face.

“They’re the reason, aren’t they,” I observe.

“For what?”

“For why you’re so stubborn and strong. You probably had to be if they were anything like me. Just to make your own voice heard.” I have a new insight into her, a new understanding of her motivation. No wonder she pushed back at me when I tried to dismiss her during the interview. She’s a fighter.

I’m filled with renewed admiration. She’s young, but she knows what she wants. And she won’t take shit from people. I can respect that.

“My dad and brother thought I’d be slinking back home by now with my tail between my legs.” She gives a proud smile that is filled with confidence. “I proved them wrong. I can do this job.”

“Yes, you can,” I agree.

And suddenly I’m glad I could be a part of her journey. That I can see this woman blossoming into the fearless person she’s meant to be. That backbone will serve her well in the coming years as she claws her way toward being a senior agent.

She’ll have to be relentless.

And I want to help her. Be there with her.

Fuck. Once again I’m overwhelmed by where my head is. Where my heart is veering. The impulse to shove it aside is strong. I give in to it, but not fully. I let some of that emotion sit in me. Aversion therapy, I’ve heard it called. Being forced to face your discomforts.

Something tells me Andrea is worth it.

“The story is breaking in the news tomorrow about us representing Cade. We should celebrate,” I say. “You earned it.”

“Maybe we can find a place with steak and curry,” she says with a laugh.

“I’ll try curry, I guess,” I grumble.

“Mister Generosity,” she teases.

“Oh, I can be even more generous,” I say in a low tone. And I know she’s thinking about me eating her out on this desk by the way her cheeks glow. She’s so beautifully responsive. I love seeing what I can pull out of her.

“Um.” She plays with her hair, looking flustered. “Okay, dinner sounds like a plan. Should we invite any of the other agents?”

“This isn’t a work dinner,” I tell her.

“Oh.” The flush deepens. “So, is it…like…”

“Andrea,” I say, putting my pen down. “Will you go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

The shy smile she gives me chips away at something in my chest. “I’d love to.”