I must've spent a good ten minutes staring at myself in the mirror Monday morning. The holes where my eyebrow ring had gone were barely visible and I knew they'd grow over in hardly any time at all. Next to the eyebrow ring on my sink was the one from my bellybutton. I'd kept the ones in my ears. Those felt like a part of who I really was. Same with my tattoos. I hadn't gotten those for anyone other than myself.

I was wearing my favorite pair of dress pants, a flowing pair that almost looked like a skirt, but were much warmer and more appropriate for early January than a skirt would've been. My top was a sleeveless vest, buttoned up so that only a hint of cleavage showed. My arms were bare, but my coat would take care of that. Finishing things off was a pair of mid-calf leather boots. Nothing about my wardrobe had changed. I liked how I dressed.

I nervously smoothed down my hair. That was the big one and I knew it would attract the most attention. For the first time since I was thirteen, my hair was the shining ebony black I'd been born with. The dye matched my natural color enough that I doubted anyone would notice the difference when my own hair started to grow in.

Right after I'd done it, I'd been too afraid to look at my reflection, wondering if I'd see the girl I used to be staring back at me, accusing me of abandoning her. To my relief, however, when I'd finally worked up the courage to look, I'd seen only me. I hadn't realized that I'd still thought of myself with black hair until I saw it again.

Now came the next step and I didn't doubt it'd be hard, but I'd already taken the most difficult step by actually dying my hair back. No matter what anyone else thought, I finally felt like I was back in my own skin.

When I walked into Archer Enterprises, I smiled as the security guards started to stand, obviously not recognizing me. I watched as their expressions went from surprise to admiration to professional all in a matter of seconds. I appreciated that neither of them said anything. I doubted most of the others would do the same, especially when I knew a lot of them would be figuring out things about Christophe and me, maybe even Rylan and me.

I was in the elevator alone, which gave me an extra couple minutes to compose myself before I stepped out onto the floor where my office was. I kept my head up but didn't look at anyone in particular as I walked. I was still able to tell, however, when people saw me. The usual murmur of chatter, which had been louder than normal, faded until the place was absolutely silent. Only as I sat at my desk did I hear it resume.

“Wow, Jenna.”

I looked up. “Emmaline.”

“You almost look normal.” She gave my outfit a clear once-over. “Almost.”

“And that was almost nice.” I gave her a sugary sweet smile. “Almost.”

Her turquoise eyes flashed as she smiled at me, and then walked away. Emmaline Kent hadn't liked me from moment one, maybe because she'd sensed the connection between Rylan and me even though, as far as she knew, we were only employer and employee. I'd wondered what she'd do if she knew Rylan and I were dating. I had the sudden urge to tell her where I'd spent New Year's and exactly what I'd been doing and who I'd been doing it with. I wouldn't, of course, but it was definitely tempting.

Focusing on work wasn't as easy as I'd hoped it would be. I knew it'd be easier if I closed my office door, but I didn't want anyone thinking the gossip was getting to me. I heard enough snippets of it to be distracting. It was equal parts about my hair and Christophe, which I found strangely amusing.

“...think she was told to change it or she'd get fired?”

“...I heard he broke into someone's house, tried to rape her...”

“...must be tired of getting called a freak...”

“...someone from work; I wonder who...”

“...is it possible...”

“...do you think...”

I was still in the process of answering emails and noting issues with certain programs when my phone rang.

“Jenna, could you come up to my office when you have a minute?”

“Of course.” I hung up and tried to quiet the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I hadn't told him what I'd done and now I wondered how he would react. I didn't think he'd be mad or anything stupid like that. He wasn't that kind of man. No, I was just hoping he'd like the color. He knew what my natural color was, but he'd never actually seen it on me.

When I stepped off of the elevator and into his office, his back was to me, his attention focused on some paper he had spread out across the conference table.

He started to speak even as he turned. “I just wanted to apologize for...” His voice trailed off, eyes widening as he saw me. “Jenna?”

I gave him an almost shy smile. “Do you like it?”

He crossed the distance between us quickly, raising his hand as if to touch my hair. He dropped it, frowning. “I didn't want you to do this.” He shook his head. “I didn't want you to feel like you had to change.”

I reached out and took his hand between mine. “I didn't do it for you. Not really. I did it for me.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, 'not really'?”

“I mean, I realized I had been hiding, using my appearance as a wall, not being myself.” I released his hand and then reached up to run my fingertips along his cheek. The stubble on his cheek was rough against my skin. He hadn't shaved this morning. “I needed to be myself. For me, but also for you.” I lightly touched the corner of his mouth.

“Because of what I said?” He caught my hand and pressed his lips against my palm. “You didn't need to do anything, love.”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “I did. You said that I was worth the risk, and I'm going to do my best to deserve that faith. Part of that means working on accepting who I am. Really accepting it.”

He ran his fingers through my hair, an expression of awe on his face. “You're amazing, you know that?”

I flushed and started to shake my head, then his mouth was on mine. It was gentle at first, one arm snaking around my waist to draw me to him, the other hand moving to cup the back of my head. He held me firmly in place as he thrust his tongue between my lips, pushing them open. I made a sound in the back of my throat as he plundered my mouth. He ground his hips against me and I felt him hardening against my hip. My pussy throbbed in response. Damn, I wanted him.

When he finally broke the kiss, I was gasping for air. He still held me close, his eyes dark with arousal.

“I'm going to take that to mean you like the color?” I teased in a breathless voice.

“I don't give a damn what color your hair is,” he said roughly. “I want you.” He leaned forward and nipped at my bottom lip. “Fuck. I want you so much.”

I glanced towards the elevator door. This was definitely one of those times that his open-door policy would bite him in the butt.

I let out a squeak of surprise as he picked me up, his hands cupping my ass. My legs automatically went around his waist, pressing us together in a way that made us both moan.

“I love you.” He kissed my jaw. “Blonde, brunette, red-head. Blue hair, green hair. Doesn't matter.” His lips pressed against my throat. “But yes, I like this color on you.” He gently sucked on the skin, releasing it before he could leave a mark. “You know what else I like on you?”

“What?” I let my head fall back to give him easier access. I was glad he'd had enough control not to give me another hickey. I'd already had to cover up a couple on my neck and one on the top of my breast that the vest I was wearing didn't hide.

“Me.”

I chuckled, gripping more tightly onto his shoulders as I leaned back, enjoying the sensations of his teeth and tongue making their way across my skin. “I definitely like you on me...and in me.”

He set me on the edge of the conference table, putting us at almost the same height. I kept my legs around him but loosened my grip, hooking my feet at the back of his knees. He quickly unbuttoned my vest, the heat in his eyes sending a jolt of arousal straight through me.

His hands slid underneath, stoking the fire inside me. I gritted my teeth. I wanted nothing more than to succumb to his touch, but I knew we couldn't. I had to remind him of where we were.

“Rylan.” I put my hands on his forearms. “We can't. Not here.”

His eyes turned to that deep purple that was almost black. “I'll stop if that's what you really want.” He cupped my breasts through my bra. “You know what to say.”

Fuck. He was going to go there. I knew that if I said it, he'd stop and he wouldn't hold it against me. He would be disappointed though. My body screamed in protest at the thought of walking away, unfinished. I'd be more than disappointed. There was no way I'd be able to concentrate wound up the way I was.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his chest. I felt the heat of his skin through his shirt. I tilted my head back and let him read my consent on my face. When he took a step back, I opened my mouth to clarify, thinking he'd misunderstood.

Then he spoke in that low, authoritative voice that twisted things low inside me. “Take off your pants.”

I stood up immediately. It probably wasn't smart to do this here, but there was no way I was backing down now. The pants slid off easily, going over my boots without any problem. I left on my panties, a pair of plain black silk ones that matched my bra.

“Back on the table,” he ordered.

I sat on the edge, spreading my legs in anticipation.

He stepped between them, his hands moving under my shirt and around my back to unclasp my bra. I moaned as he brought his hands around, palming my breasts. His thumbs moved over my nipples, sending ripples of pleasure through me. I arched my back, pushing my breasts against him, wanting more. His hands dropped away and I made a sound of protest.

“Shh.” He nipped at my bottom lip. “You have to be quiet. Don't want anyone coming up here, thinking I'm in trouble or something.” He scraped his teeth along my jaw. “We both know how I can make you scream.”

He dropped his hand between us, his fingers skimming along the crotch of my panties. I shuddered at the sensation, pressing my lips together to keep in a moan. I didn't think anyone would hear that, but he'd told me to be quiet.

“I'm going to make you come,” he promised. “But if you make a sound, I'm going to spank you until you can't sit for the rest of the day.”

I mimed locking my lips and throwing away the key.

He reached down and unzipped his pants before moving back between my legs. I looked down, my pussy growing wet as I watched him stroking himself. Damn, he was hot.

“I'm going to fuck you.”

I recognized that slight shift in tone. He was telling me what to expect so I could use our safe words if I needed to.

“No prep, so it's going to be tight.”

That was an understatement, but the thought made me even more wet.

“I'm going to make you scream.” He lowered his voice until it was just above a whisper. “And when you do, I'm going to spank your ass until it's red.”

A muffled whimper almost escaped.

“Now, put your hands on your breasts.” His hand was still moving lazily over his cock. “I want you to play with your nipples while I fuck you.”

He smiled as I obeyed. My fingers rolled the sensitive flesh, tugging and pinching just the way I liked. He took another step forward, cock nudging at my entrance. I looked up at him, our eyes meeting as he put his hands on my hips. My back arched as he buried himself inside me in one quick thrust, my lips pressed tightly together to hold back a scream. My fingers tightened involuntarily, sending pain through my nipples, mingling with the pain and pleasure of him stretching me too fast. My breathing came in harsh pants as my body tried to adjust.

“Let it go.” He drew back and snapped forward again, sending another jolt through me. “Scream for me.”

The words made my stomach tighten as the memories of other voices came forward. Other men, some women, telling me to scream.

He froze, looking down at me with an expression that told me he'd seen something on my face that worried him. “Red?” He made it a question.

I felt him inside me, so hard that stopping like this had to be almost impossible. His eyes, however, were only full of concern for me.

I shook my head. “Just what you said.”

“We can stop...”

“Don't you dare!” I squeezed his cock with my pussy and he swore, eyes closing for a minute.

When they opened, they were almost black. He reached up and buried his hand in my hair. “You're sure?”

I nodded and he yanked on my hair, making me gasp. The gasp turned into a cry as he began to move again, pounding into me.

“Quiet!” He bit my jaw hard enough to hurt, but not to leave a mark “Or do you want me to spank you?”

“Yes!” I felt the climax coming, building inside me. “Please, please.”

“You really don't know how to be quiet.” His voice was strained. “We're going to have to work on that.”

I nodded without really paying attention to what he was saying. I didn't care about anything but coming. I was close, and I knew he was too. I let go of my breasts and grabbed onto his arms, my nails digging into his forearms as he drove into me.

“Are you going to scream?” he whispered in my ear. “Call my name?”

I shook my head, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip to hold back the sounds. I'd prove to him I could do this. As my climax crashed over me, I fought the urge to cry out and heard him make a sound of pain as my hands tightened on his arms. I felt like I would explode, every cell in my body screaming as I held in the sounds that wanted to escape. My head fell forward onto his shoulder, air escaping in almost pained pants as Rylan buried himself inside me. I felt him coming, filling me, and I shuddered, pressing my face against the side of his neck.

“I've got you,” he murmured in my ear. “I've got you.”

We stayed joined, holding each other, until his phone rang. He sighed as he stepped back and I hissed as he slid out. I would be a bit sore, but it was worth it. He did up his pants as he walked over to the desk. I grimaced as I stood and looked around for some tissues. There was definitely a disadvantage to the whole no condom thing.

“Yes, she's here.”

I looked up, surprised. Rylan turned towards me, his expression serious. He reached behind him and picked up a box of tissues, tossing it towards me.

“Send him up.”

He hung up the phone, a curious look on his face as I cleaned myself up.

“I guess the spanking's going to have to wait. The FBI's here to talk to you.”